The next morning, Rio woke with a weary, aching body. The faint sunlight, filtering through the snow and massive tree branches, seeped into the cabin, casting gentle shadows on the wooden walls. Rio lay on the small bed in the corner, wrapped in an elven silk blanket, but its warmth couldn't melt the chill that had settled in his heart since the previous night. The soft sound of molten material burning in stone bowls was the only thing breaking the heavy silence of the cabin. Rio slowly rose from the bed, his white hair disheveled across his forehead, his silver eyes still swollen from the exhaustion and sorrow of the night before.
Rio turning her head, saw her father. William sat by the cabin's small window on a simple wooden chair, staring at the bowl of molten material. Orange flames reflected in his red eyes, and his face, now etched with deeper lines of fatigue, seemed as still as a statue. His black-and-red coat hung heavily on his shoulders, as if bearing an invisible burden. In another corner of the cabin sat Elian, his black armor gleaming faintly in the dim light. His head was bowed, his metal helmet casting a shadow over his face, but Rio could sense he was lost in deep thought.
Rio pushed the blanket aside and climbed out of bed, but his gaze suddenly fell on Nadia. She lay on another bed, Her brows were furrowed, and her lips muttered incomprehensible whispers—broken words, full of pain. Her hands clutched the sheets tightly, as if trapped in a terrifying nightmare. Rio paused, his heart aching at the sight of his sister's suffering. He reached out, intending to wake her from her torment, but the furious memory of the previous night flashed in his mind like lightning. His hand froze in midair and withdrew with hesitation. He knew that waking Nadia would only earn him another scream, perhaps even harsher than before. With a heavy heart, he stepped away from her and walked toward his father.
His steps made a soft sound on the wooden floor, and William, ever attuned to everything, tilted his head slightly to the left at the noise. His red eyes glanced at Rio for a moment—a brief but piercing look, as if he could read his entire soul in an instant. Then he returned his gaze to the flames of the molten bowl and said in a quiet but weighty voice:
"Did you sleep well son?"
Rio glanced at Elian, who still kept his head down, as if unwilling to join the conversation. Then he looked at his father and the dancing flames of the molten bowl. With a tired voice that couldn't hide the sorrow within, he replied:
"No, Father."
William nodded slowly, as if he'd expected this answer. In a voice that seemed to rise from the depths of his exhaustion, he said:
"Neither did I."
A brief silence fell between them, broken only by the sound of the burning molten material and Nadia's occasional murmurs in her sleep. Rio hesitated, his fingers unconsciously gripping the edge of his clothing. Something within him—perhaps courage, perhaps desperation—urged him to speak. With a voice that tried to be respectful but resolute, he said:
"Father please don't be angry with Nadia."
William rested his hands under his chin, his fingers slowly brushing against the rough stubble on his face. The light of the flames cast strange shadows on his face, and his half-closed eyes seemed to conceal something. In a voice neither warm nor cold, but mysterious said:
"I'm not angry with anyone my son. I'm just… surprised."
Rio raised his eyebrows, his heart beating faster. William's words were like a key that half-opened a door, but he couldn't see what lay beyond it. With a voice full of curiosity but cautious, he asked:
"What are you talking about Father?"
William fell silent for a moment, then cast a brief but sharp glance at Rio from under his eyes—a look that seemed to pierce into the depths of his soul. In a voice like a whisper in the wind, he said:
"We've been invited to a gathering today. After that, we'll return to the tribe."
William stood up after finishing his words, his long coat rippling softly with the movement. He walked toward the cabin's exit but suddenly paused. He turned back to Rio slowly, and this time his gaze was cold—not with anger, but like ice trapping a dangerous secret. His red eyes locked onto Rio's, and he said:
"Show her she's wrong."
Rio felt his breath catch. William stared at him for another moment, as if waiting for a reaction, but then, without another word, he walked to the door. The wooden door opened with a soft creak, and the cold morning breeze rushed into the cabin, making the flames of the molten bowl dance for a moment.
Rio was left alone, his heart brimming with unanswered questions. His father's enigmatic gaze, cryptic words, and that final command—they were like puzzle pieces he couldn't fit together. The cabin, with the warmth of the molten bowls and the soft glow of white crystals, now felt constricting, like a cage holding William's unspoken secrets captive. Rio glanced at Nadia, still lost in her restless sleep, and felt a deeper chasm than ever forming between them. He didn't know what awaited him at today's gathering, but one thing was certain: William, with his red eyes and intricate mind, had a plan—A plan that Rio knew nothing about.
Hours later, a cool breeze wove through the massive branches of the elven forest, and the faint sunlight, peeking from behind gray clouds, cast soft, dancing shadows on the suspended bridges and intricately carved wooden cabins. The sound of small bells hanging from the bridge railings mingled with the songs of forest birds. In this magical setting, several elves appeared before the Kalimor family's cabin, dressed in shimmering green and silver silks that gleamed like ocean waves in the morning light. They carried engraved wooden trays laden with vibrant fruits—purple grapes sparkling like jewels, glossy golden apples, and red and blue berries that seemed to trap dewdrops within. Wooden buckets of steaming warm water, accompanied by soft elven cloths adorned with delicate patterns, were brought for their use.
Rio, still weighed down by the exhaustion and sorrow of the previous night, washed his face with the warm water. For a moment, the heat caressed his cold skin, and the steam brushed his cheeks like the breath of the forest. But this fleeting calm couldn't quell the turmoil within—Nadia's harsh words, her disappointed gazes, and the guilt that shadowed him relentlessly.
He took a few fruits from the tray and ate; the sweet burst of grapes and the crispness of apples briefly distracted him, but when his eyes fell on Nadia, his heart lurched again.
Nadia stood in the corner of the cabin, nervously arranging her long red hair. She looked at Rio, not with the fiery anger of the previous night but with eyes filled with deep disappointment. Her red eyes, once burning like wild flames, were now dull and cold, like ashes left from a great fire. This look was worse than any scream—like a dagger slowly piercing Rio's heart. He couldn't bear it. He quickly grabbed his white coat from the bed, pulled up the collar, and rushed out of the cabin with hurried steps, as if fleeing from Nadia's gaze. He couldn't stand another second under those eyes. He wasn't sure why, but an inexplicable guilt, like a cold wave, flooded his being—guilt he couldn't explain but that dragged his soul into the depths of emptiness.
William stood at the edge of the cabin's balcony, his hands clasped behind his back, his red eyes fixed on the suspended elven city. His long red-and-black coat rippled in the morning breeze, and the faint sunlight cast strange, mysterious shadows on his red hair. As always, he seemed impenetrable, as if he'd become part of the magical forest, but Rio could sense that behind that stony face, deep and unspoken thoughts were stirring. The elven city below was alive—wooden cabins with stained-glass windows glowed like lanterns among the branches, suspended bridges swayed in the breeze, and elves in delicate attire with flowing hair moved silently among the trees.
Rio stood beside his father, took a deep breath, and tried to sound eager, though his heart was in turmoil.
"Father, is this gathering going to be a big one?"
William glanced at him from the corner of his eye, a sharp and probing look. He paused for a moment, then took Rio's hand. Unlike Rio's, William's fingers were warm but firm, as if conveying something without words. In a quiet voice, he said:
"I'm not sure my son. But we'll find out soon enough."
His words were like a riddle, laden with meaning but indecipherable. Rio sensed something hidden behind them—a plan, a secret, or perhaps a warning.
Minutes later, the Kalimor family boarded a wooden elevator. The thick, sturdy ropes creaked softly as the elevator gently lowered them through the massive tree branches toward the forest floor. Sunlight filtered through the branches, casting golden flecks on the carved wooden panels of the elevator.
When they reached the ground, they found Selria waiting for them. Her golden armor gleamed like a small sun in the morning light, and her black hair rippled in the breeze, as if part of the forest itself. With a polite smile, she bowed to William and said:
"Lord William, I'm honored to guide you and your family to the king's gathering."
To Rio's surprise, Selria didn't look at him. Gone were the mysterious and unsettling glances from recent days in her emerald-green eyes. She gestured toward the path with smooth, confident movements, as if Rio were just another guest. Though small, this change let Rio breathe a sigh of relief, but he still felt something unnatural in Selria's demeanor, like the calm before a storm.
They passed through the vast forest, where colossal trees pierced the sky like ancient pillars. Their trunks were covered in glowing moss, and the soft sound of small streams flowing among the roots rang like gentle music. Elves in shimmering silk robes gathered in small groups, chatting or working—some carried baskets brimming with fruit, others wove delicate fabrics. Elven soldiers in gleaming silver and gold armor patrolled the paths. Some rode strange, magnificent creatures Rio had never seen before.
These creatures resembled enormous tigers but were the size of elephants, with long legs seemingly built for racing through the forest. Their white, woolly hides were streaked with golden lines that glowed like veins of light. Their faces were tiger-like, with shining eyes and sharp teeth, but short horns protruding from their foreheads gave them the air of mythical beings. When they moved, the ground trembled beneath their feet, yet their motions were graceful, as if in perfect harmony with the forest. One turned its head and looked at Rio, its yellow eyes flashing for a moment.
Awestruck, Rio glanced at his father and asked:
"Father, what are those?"
William paused, as if Rio's question had caught him off guard. He shook his head and, with a voice blending wisdom and caution, said:
"They're Gomara. Herbivores, but extremely difficult to tame. Usually, only elves can manage it. They're incredibly strong for carrying loads and fighting."
Rio, eager to learn, spoke with his father about the Gomara for a while. He asked about their history, how they were tamed, and even the legends the elves told about them. Though fascinating, the conversation was, for Rio, a way to escape his thoughts—the memory of Nadia's disappointed gaze. William answered patiently, but Rio sensed his father's mind was elsewhere, as if calculating something far greater.
A while later, they arrived at a vast clearing where the elven hall stood, a place devoid of trees, its ground paved with white stones. The gathering was at the height of its splendor. The clearing was like a sea of color and light. White elves with snow-like skin and golden hair that shone like solar crowns glimmered, while dark elves with silver hair that rippled like moonlight danced in vibrant attire. Their garments, woven from silk and magical fabrics, sparkled in the sunlight. The music—a blend of small bells, delicate wind instruments, and soft elven songs—flowed through the air like magic, as if setting the heart of the forest beating.
Large tables were scattered across the clearing, laden with exotic fruits, fresh breads scented with forest herbs, and dishes Rio couldn't name—bowls of colorful soups, roasted meats adorned with edible flowers, and desserts that gleamed like jewels. Smaller tables in the corners held carved wooden goblets filled with drinks ranging in hue from emerald green to ruby red. The aroma of food and drink mingled, infusing the space with life.
As the Kalimor family entered, all eyes briefly turned to them. The elves looked at William, Nadia, Adrina, and Rio with curiosity, but the attention was fleeting. They soon resumed their dancing and merriment, as if the presence of the dragonkin had only momentarily distracted them. Rio felt like an outsider, as though he didn't belong. His heart raced, and for a moment, he glanced at Nadia, who stood with a cold expression, her hair tied, beside Adrina. Their eyes met briefly, and Rio saw that disappointment in her gaze again. He quickly turned away, searching for an escape from the feeling.
After a few minutes, Rio and William reached Talandril, who stood at the center of the clearing with Kato, Ayhan, and several dark elves in dark armor and long hair, engaged in conversation. Talandril, clad in a deep green robe adorned with delicate golden patterns, was like a king carrying the forest in his heart. His smile was warm and inviting, but his eyes, green as spring leaves, seemed to conceal a secret. Upon seeing William, he spoke in a loud, joyful voice:
"Welcome, William! I hope you and your family enjoy the gathering."
William thanked him politely, bowing his head slightly and responding in a calm but respectful tone:
"Thank you for your hospitality, Emperor."
He then joined the conversation with Talandril, Kato, and the other elves. Feeling out of place, Rio looked for a way to distance himself. His gaze fell on Elian, standing in a corner of the clearing, away from the bustle and dancing. Elian's black armor glinted in the sunlight, his metal helmet casting a shadow over his fiery red eyes, but Rio could sense that he, too, felt uneasy at the gathering.
Rio walked over to Elian and stood beside him, staring at the white stones beneath his feet. Elian, surprised by Rio's presence, glanced at him occasionally, then at William, Nadia, and Adrina in the crowd. Nadia and Adrina stood by a fruit table, Nadia listening coldly to something Adrina was saying. William, conversing with Talandril and Kato, appeared as confident and composed as ever. Elian remained silent for a while, the sounds of music and elven laughter filling the air. Then, in a quiet, slightly curious voice, he said:
"Not a fan of big gatherings?"
Rio looked up and met Elian's gaze. His red eyes, glowing beneath his helmet, held a quiet understanding. Rio paused, searching for words. In a slightly trembling voice, he said:
"It's not that. I just… I just feel…"
Elian sighed and finished his sentence:
"Like you're different?"
Rio didn't respond, only nodded. Something in Elian's words struck at the core of his feelings. Rio had always felt like a puzzle piece forced into the wrong spot. Elian paused, then nodded toward Ayhan, who stood alone in another corner of the clearing. Ayhan, in a dark coat with disheveled hair, held a goblet and seemed preoccupied with his drink, though his eyes scanned the crowd, suggesting discomfort. Elian said with a soft smile:
"Looks like you're not alone."
Rio, now anxious, looked at Elian. His heart beat faster, sensing something amiss at the gathering—perhaps Nadia's gazes, his father's hidden secrets, or something larger he couldn't yet see. In a voice that tried to stay calm but was laced with doubt, he said:
"I don't think this will go well. Shouldn't we be cautious around them?"
Elian shook his head in mild frustration, his voice a mix of patience and seriousness:
"I'm not sure what you took from your father's words. Kato's a dangerous man, but he's never been a bad one. Like master William, he does what's best for his family and tribe. Does that make him a bad person?"
Rio glanced at Ayhan, who was now sipping his drink, lost in thought. Then he looked back at Elian and shook his head, unsure how to respond. Elian's words made sense, but something in Rio remained unsettled. He felt this gathering, this moment, was a facade hiding something deeper, perhaps dangerous. The clearing was filled with joy and light, but for Rio, an invisible shadow loomed over everything—a shadow he couldn't see but felt with every fiber of his being.
Rio shook his head and, with a deep breath that seemed to gather all his courage, cautiously walked toward Ayhan. His heart pounded like a drum, not just from the anxiety of conversation but from the strange unease enveloping him in this lavish gathering. The vast elven hall was a sea of light and color. The polished white stones beneath their feet gleamed in the sunlight, and crystals hanging from surrounding trees, adorned with intricate patterns, refracted light into a thousand hues. White elves with snow-like skin and golden hair that rippled like solar crowns in the breeze, and dark elves with silver hair that seemed to trap moonlight, danced in synchronized grace. The music—a blend of small bells, delicate harps, and elven songs that seemed to rise from the forest's depths—flowed like magic. The scent of fresh fruits, warm breads, and exotic drinks filled the air, but for Rio, all this beauty was a thin veneer hiding something restless and mysterious.
When he reached Ayhan, Rio tried to smile, but his face flushed with embarrassment and anxiety. In a slightly shaky voice, he said:
"Hi."
Ayhan was staring at the wooden goblet in his hand, lost in thought. The emerald-green contents shimmered like liquid jewels in the sunlight, and he gazed at it with curiosity, as if seeking a secret within. Hearing Rio's voice, he looked up. His dark eyes widened in surprise for a moment, but he quickly offered a calm, friendly smile that eased Rio's nerves.
"Hi Rio."
Rio paused, his fingers unconsciously gripping the edge of his white coat. His gaze darted around—to the elves dancing with fluid, wave-like movements, to the soldiers in gleaming silver and gold armor standing at the clearing's edges, and to the massive Gomara in the distance, their glowing eyes fixed on the gathering from beneath the shade of giant trees. In a voice that tried to sound casual but carried a hint of worry, he said:
"It's a pretty crowded gathering, don't you think?"
Ayhan nodded, took a sip of his drink, and held the goblet as if it lightened the weight of his words. In a calm but meaningful voice, he replied:
"Yeah, I think the elves really went all out to make everything look perfect."
Rio raised his eyebrows and asked in surprise:
"What?"
Ayhan took a deep breath, as if choosing his words carefully. He twirled the goblet, and sunlight danced on the drink's surface, casting green and golden flecks on the white stones. Then he glanced around—at the soldiers, whose numbers seemed greater than before, standing in the shadows with long spears and gleaming helmets; at the half-built defensive towers peeking from behind massive trees at the clearing's edges; and at the elves, who, despite their dancing and joy, occasionally cast cautious glances around. In a lowered voice, as if not wanting others to hear, he said:
"Look around. There are more soldiers now. The number of defensive towers the elves are building has increased. It's clear they're preparing."
Rio's heart raced at these words. His mind flashed back to the summit two days ago—a meeting he'd left in haste, without learning its outcome or even trying to ask William about it. Now, Ayhan's words made him feel something larger than he'd imagined was unfolding, like a shadow cast over this joyful gathering. Anxiously, he looked around—at the soldiers, now seemingly overly alert; at the Gomara, whose yellow eyes seemed to sense something; and at the elves, whose smiles seemed to carry an invisible burden. In a voice that couldn't hide his worry, he asked:
"What happened at the summit?"
Ayhan took another sip of his drink, as if buying time to think. Then, in a voice blending exhaustion and seriousness, he said:
"No alliance was formed. Not yet, at least. The representatives decided to return to their countries and report Lord William's words. Another summit, this time with each nation's leader, will decide the final outcome."
Ayhan continued, speaking of the tensions between tribes, old disputes, and the possibility of a war gathering like storm clouds on the horizon. But then he looked up at Rio's face. Rio's silver eyes, now filled with fear and anxiety, screamed his emotions like a mirror. His skin had grown paler, and his fingers gripped the goblet so tightly it seemed he might crush it. Ayhan mentally scolded himself—he'd forgotten he was talking to a kid, someone perhaps not ready for such heavy truths. He quickly shook his head and, with a smile meant to be reassuring, said:
"Of course, we dragonkin can handle ourselves, so there's no need to worry."
To shift the mood, he grabbed a wooden goblet from a nearby table and handed it to Rio. The drink inside was a ruby red, with a sweet, floral aroma that seemed to come from unknown forest flowers.
"Want some? No idea what it is, but it doesn't taste bad."
Rio trying to seem normal, took the goblet from Ayhan. His fingers trembled slightly, but he managed a smile and brought the goblet to his lips. The drink was sweet and cool, with a hint of forest herbs that briefly distracted him, like a breeze clearing the dust from his mind. But his thoughts remained tangled in Ayhan's words—the elves' preparations, the unresolved summit, and the shadow of a threat lurking beneath the surface of this joyful gathering.
Elsewhere, Kato and William had stepped away from Talandril and the group of dark elves. They stood in a corner amid the crowd. William, in his red-and-black coat that rippled softly in the breeze, was like an unyielding rock, his red eyes fixed on a distant point as if lost in another world. Kato, in dark armor that fit like a second skin and short hair glinting in the sunlight, rested his hand on a short metal rod attached to his belt—a gesture more habitual than threatening. A heavy silence hung between them, like a storm waiting for a spark to erupt, the air thick with the weight of unspoken words.
But Kato finally broke the silence. In a taunting tone, as if challenging William, he said:
"What's happened to you William? You used to be a lively, cheerful man."
William glanced at Rio, who was talking with Ayhan in a corner of the clearing, holding a goblet. His red eyes flickered for a moment, like a flame wavering in the wind, but his face remained as still as stone. In a cold tone that seemed to rise from the depths of his being, he replied:
"I suppose, whether we want it or not, change happens."
Kato followed his gaze to Rio and Ayhan, a cryptic smile curling his lips, like a wolf eyeing its prey. In a quiet but pointed voice, he said:
"Is it because of your son?"
He paused, as if waiting for William's reaction, then continued with a smirk:
"Come on William. The last time we saw each other was a decade ago. and you didn't have a son. Now you've got a seventy-year-old boy?"
Kato's eyes narrowed as he studied Rio, taking in his features, silver eyes, and white hair.
"He's his son, isn't he? The resemblance is undeniable.That boy is Rio Astroid son, isn't he?"
William clasped his hands behind his back and looked away, as if unwilling to answer directly. This gesture, seemingly indifferent, made Kato's smile grow more enigmatic, like someone certain they'd uncovered a secret. In a slightly louder voice, he said:
"So I'm right! Well, that man led a tumultuous life. A kid showing up isn't that strange."
But William, still looking away, had a faint, cryptic smile on his lips—so subtle and hidden it seemed meant only for himself, not Kato. He remained silent, offering no response, letting Kato spin the story himself. This silence intrigued Kato more than any words could, but he said nothing further, only staring at Rio and Ayhan.
Meanwhile, Nadia and Adrina stood by a fruit table, where wooden trays brimmed with purple grapes, golden apples, and glistening berries. Nadia, her face tired and hair disheveled as if she hadn't slept all night, stared at a golden apple in her hand, as if seeking answers within it. Her red eyes, now ringed with dark circles, were filled with a deep sorrow that seemed to have taken root in her heart years ago. Adrina, who always played the mediator between Nadia and Rio, looked at her with concern. Her long red hair gleamed in the sunlight. After a moment, she gently brushed Nadia's messy hair and, in a kind, compassionate tone, said:
"Didn't sleep well last night?"
Nadia sharply pushed Adrina's hand away, as if even this small gesture of affection was too heavy, like a weight she couldn't bear. In a low, cold voice that seemed to rise from the depths of her exhaustion and despair, she said:
"I'm fine."
Adrina shook her head sadly and stepped back, not wanting to press Nadia further. Her eyes were filled with worry and understanding, but she knew Nadia sometimes needed space. But Nadia, now regretting her sharp reaction, sighed, her breath trembling. Before Adrina could walk away, she said:
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm sorry for blaming Rio for everything again. I'm sorry if I upset you. I'm sorry for everything."
Her voice quivered, each word drawn from her heart with pain, like a reopened wound. Adrina turned back, her eyes full of empathy, her lips parting to say something—perhaps words to comfort Nadia, perhaps a promise that things would be alright. But Nadia raised her hand gently, her face heavy with sorrow and her eyes cold, and said:
"But don't ask me to love him. That creature, whatever he is, isn't my brother and never will be."
Nadia lowered her head, her red hair falling like a curtain over her face, her shoulders trembling slightly, as if an invisible weight was pulling her toward the ground. She braced for Adrina's usual gentle but firm reprimands, words meant to nudge her toward reconciling with Rio. But to her surprise, she heard nothing. Not the music that had filled the air like a soft current moments before, not the elves' laughter, not the murmur of conversations, not even the gentle breeze rustling the branches—everything vanished in an instant. The silence was so deep and heavy it felt like the world was holding its breath.
Nadia slowly raised her head and looked at Adrina's face. Absolute terror rippled across her sister's features, like someone who had seen death itself. Adrina's red eyes, usually calm, were wide and trembling, her skin paler than snow. Her lips quivered, and her body seemed frozen in place. She was staring to the left, toward a point in the center of the enclosure, her face showing nothing but pure fear. Nadia's heart pounded like a drum, her hands growing cold. Cautiously, she turned to look in the same direction, and her breath caught in her chest.
In the corner of the enclosure, Rio and Ayhan were still talking, their words lost in the elven music and the crowd's laughter. Ayhan held his wooden goblet, sunlight dancing on its emerald-green contents, while Rio, still anxious from Ayhan's talk of the summit and the elves' preparations, tried to maintain a shaky smile. But suddenly, Ayhan fell silent. His face, calm and curious moments before, froze in an instant. The goblet slipped from his hand, crashing onto the stones with a sharp clatter, its contents scattering like broken stars. His hands began to tremble, as if gripped by an invisible force. His brown eyes, always full of confidence, widened, filled with silent terror.
Rio, startled by the sudden change, looked at Ayhan with concern.
"Ayhan? What's wrong?"
But Ayhan didn't respond. His gaze was locked on the center of the enclosure, like someone witnessing a living nightmare. Rio, his heart now racing, followed his gaze, and in that moment, the entire world stopped.
***
Over the years Rio had lived in this new world, he'd faced many fears—fear of magical creatures with glowing eyes and sharp teeth, fear of being lost in a past he didn't understand, fear of falling short of his family's expectations. He'd endured countless pains—the pain of separation from his old world, the pain of Nadia's reproaches, the pain of guilt he couldn't explain. But in that moment, a new fear, an absolute fear, swallowed him like a cold, black wave. It was so powerful it stripped the world of meaning, like a spell turning reality to ash. The sound of the breeze, which had caressed the branches moments before, vanished. The crowd's voices, the elves' laughter, the soft growls of the Gomara, even the faintest hum of insects—all fell silent in an instant. The silence was a monstrous, invisible force that engulfed the clearing, and the air grew so heavy it felt tangible.
***
No one moved. The white and dark elves, who had been dancing and reveling moments ago, now stood like frozen statues, their silken garments motionless in the breeze. The Gomara, their yellow eyes fixed on the gathering, were still, their short horns flickering in the dim light. Many didn't even breathe, as if fear had paralyzed their lungs. Talandril, resplendent in his dark green robe, now had a pale face, his green eyes wide with shock. Kato, always cool and confident, gripped the metal rod at his belt, and Ayhan, beside Rio, was like a puppet with its strings cut.
Rio, trembling with fear, looked at his father—William, the unyielding rock, the man who hadn't flinched at countless threats. Now his face was a canvas painted with terror. His red eyes, always brimming with secrets and authority, were wide and quivering, like flames flickering in a storm. His hands, usually steady and sure, trembled faintly, and his red-and-black coat seemed to weigh heavier than ever on his shoulders. Nadia and Adrina, standing by the fruit table, were like stone statues staring at the center of the enclosure, their faces mirrors of pure fear. This sight terrified Rio more than anything—if William, the pillar of their family, the one he trusted most, was this shaken, what hope was left for him?
And there, in the center of the enclosure, stood a figure—a man so tall it seemed he could touch the sky, his black cloak like a pit of absolute darkness that devoured all light and warmth. The cloak did not stir in the breeze, as if even nature dared not approach him. His silver hair, like strands of moonlight, rested motionless on his shoulders, yet it seemed alive, as if each strand were a silent galaxy. His face was hidden beneath a hood attached to the cloak, revealing nothing but two star-like, gray eyes. Those eyes, like twin cosmic black holes, did not merely look—they pierced, as if they could tear the soul from any being's body. His presence poisoned the air, like a toxin that slowly paralyzed mind and body. The temperature in the enclosure seemed to plummet below zero in an instant, and Rio felt an unnatural cold, like living ice, coursing through his veins, gripping and squeezing his heart.
Rio had heard brief tales about them—people from another continent, warriors who dragged death behind them like a shadow. His entire being was submerged in fear. He could not think, could not move. His feet were rooted to the ground, like roots embedded in stone, and his breaths came short and ragged, as if the air no longer held oxygen. The glass in his hand trembled, and a few drops of red liquid spilled onto the stones, like bloodstains screaming in the silence of the courtyard.
Everything that had mattered to Rio until that moment—his family, the dragon within him, even the hope he held for the future—became worthless in the face of this terrifying presence. The man with star-like eyes, who had appeared so suddenly, seemed not just a being but an embodiment of the end, a force that had emerged from the depths of the void to consume everything.
Moments passed until, suddenly, the star-like man slowly drew his left hand from beneath his cloak. A hand utterly black, like the darkness of night, with long, slender fingers—not like those of a human, but as if crafted from living shadow, each movement erasing a fragment of reality. When his fingers twitched, Rio felt the air around him condense, like the moment before an explosion. The man did not fully raise his hand; he merely moved his index finger with a soft, almost soundless motion, like a musician playing a deadly note. In an instant, a young elf standing before him—a man with golden hair that shone like the sun and eyes full of life, who had been smiling at his friend just moments before—vanished. No sound, no scream, no trace. Only a terrifying black shadow remained on the white stones, like an ink stain that seemed to have swallowed the elf's soul. The shadow quivered for a moment, as if still resisting, like a spirit unwilling to surrender, then faded, as if it had never existed.
Rio's heart pounded so fiercely he thought his chest would shatter. He was the only one who noticed this annihilation. The others—even Talandril in all his splendor, even the elf soldiers in their gleaming armor, even William with all his authority—seemed plunged into a deep sleep. Their eyes were vacant, but Rio, for reasons he could not fathom, remained aware. Perhaps it was the dragon's blood in him, or something within his being he did not yet know, but he saw, he understood, and this understanding drove him to the brink of madness. He blinked, and in that moment, a horrific truth struck him like lightning. He realized who this man was.
But the worst was yet to come. The star man, with his celestial eyes, slowly turned his neck toward Rio. The movement was so smooth and deliberate, it was as if he were toying with time, stretching each second to let terror take root in Rio's soul. His gaze was like an arrow aimed straight at Rio's heart. Those star-like eyes, which seemed to imprison entire galaxies, locked onto Rio, and in that moment, Rio felt his very existence unraveling. These eyes did not merely look—they searched, as if pulling every secret, every hope, every fragment of his soul into their darkness. His body froze, as if the blood in his veins had turned to ice. His breath caught in his chest, and his mind emptied of everything but fear. A sound rang in his ears, like a bell tolling the end, and then came the man's voice—a voice from the depths of the void, from a place beyond the stars, where even death dared not tread. It was deep, terrifying, as if it shattered the walls of reality itself…
"i found you."