A few days had passed since that horrific night, but the shadow of fear still weighed on Rio's heart like a heavy burden. He tried to keep himself busy with his training—swordsmanship and magic—as if he could erase the tales of the Star people and the chosen ones from his mind. But every time he closed his eyes, Nadia's words echoed in his ears like a sinister whisper:
"They vanished from this world as if they never existed."
So, instead of drowning in this nightmare, he focused on his family and training, even if it was just a mask to hide his terror.
Despite his wariness toward Maria and Setia, Rio didn't want his suspicion of their cryptic glances at the compass to shatter his bond with his family. He spent hours with Maria, helping with simple household chores—washing a pan, folding a cloth, or fetching firewood for the fireplace. These tasks felt strange to him, but they carried a quiet calm. Since Rio's identity was revealed, the palace had no servants, only a few trusted soldiers of William who moved like shadows. It was as if his family had deliberately isolated themselves from others, and this seclusion was a thorn in his heart. There were no restrictions on him, but the loneliness, the absence of even a single friend, sometimes made breathing difficult. He didn't know what having a friend was worth, but he felt that if he could live like ordinary people, he might escape the shadow of his past—whether from the old world or this one.
Sometimes, to seem normal, Rio played with Setia—wooden card games or small races in the courtyard. But Setia's mask-like smile, her cold and mysterious gaze, lingered in Rio's mind like an unhealing wound. Still, he tried his hardest to love her, to believe she was his little sister, not something he feared. At times, he thought Setia was after the compass, so one day, with a heart full of doubt, he showed it to her and Maria. He even said they could take it, just to put their minds at ease. To his surprise, neither accepted. They acted as if it didn't matter, They avoided touching it, with looks that seemed to say nothing had happened.
Rio was confused, like someone trapped in a room with no exit. He didn't know what to do to satisfy them or uncover the secret behind their gazes. So, as always, he carried on, acting like an ordinary dragon—or at least, that's what he thought.
Weeks passed, and on one cold day when snow blanketed the ground like a white curtain, Rio sat in the palace courtyard. Cross-legged, eyes closed, his breathing slow and deep. Snow settled on his white hair and froze, but he didn't notice. He was trying to connect with the cold, the way William found peace in fire. For Rio, winter and ice felt like a familiar embrace, a home he didn't know why he belonged to. The feeling was strange but so strong it dissolved his questions after a moment.
Rio thought of William's teachings, how he needed to control the frost wave with his emotions and release it precisely. But it was like grasping mist with his hands. The frost wave surged from his fingers, chaotic and erratic, impossible to direct. His progress was slow, in both magic and swordsmanship. Sometimes he wondered if he lacked talent, or if, because his soul didn't belong to this world, he could never be like Nadia, Adrina, or William. Still, he tried with all his being to meet his family's expectations, to prove he was worthy of their trust.
Rio spent long hours in the courtyard, immersed in cold and focus, when suddenly a shadow fell over him, and a breeze colder than the snow brushed his cheeks. It was Nadia, in a fur coat of red and black, like a flame unextinguished in the snow. Her red, cold eyes, as always, seemed capable of piercing the soul. But, as ever, Rio saw a spark of anger in them—a constant fury that seemed part of Nadia's essence. She stared at him for a while, as if reading something in her brother's face. Then, with a voice laced with mockery and curiosity, she said:
"What are you doing, monster?"
Monster. The word was a familiar blade Nadia often wielded against Rio. It didn't matter to him as long as she spoke to him—Rio still held hope. Hope that one day he could make Nadia love him, like Adrina did. With a faint smile, more to hide his exhaustion and fear, he said:
"Just training. Trying to control the cold."
Nadia raised her eyebrows, her gaze still cold and merciless, as if searching for something in Rio—perhaps a weakness, perhaps a secret he didn't understand. Rio's heart beat faster, but he kept his smile. He didn't want Nadia to see that deep within, the fear of the Star people and the chosen ones still flowed like poison in his veins. But under her gaze, he felt that this fear might be something he could never hide.
Nadia paused for a moment, then stepped back with a slow, menacing grace. She shed her red-and-black fur coat and tossed it aside carelessly, as if preparing for a deadly performance. With a taunting tone that spread like venom in the air, she said:
"Alright, let's see how strong you've gotten."
Rio, shocked by the sudden shift, leapt to his feet. His heart pounded, and his voice trembled with anxiety. "What are you talking about, sister?"
Nadia didn't react. Her gaze grew colder, and her voice now rumbled like a growl from the depths of hell, terrifying and ruthless: "Death or life?"
Rio, with fear coiling around his heart like a serpent, stumbled back a few steps. "I'm not ready! I don't want to fight you, sister!"
Nadia shook her head, as if disappointed by his weakness. Sparks of fire ignited in her palms, like stars burning in the dark. With a voice that seemed to rise from the underworld, she repeated: "Death or life?"
Rio, now consumed by terror, shouted, "No!"
But before he could move, Nadia lunged at him like lightning. She was so fast that Rio didn't even see when she closed the distance. Her flaming hands came within inches of his face, and suddenly, a ferocious, blinding fire exploded before his eyes like a solar flare. The flames danced in the air like golden and red waves, beautiful but deadly, and threw Rio back with savage force. He tumbled across the ground, his clothes burning. Frantically, he tore them off and cast them aside, gasping as he looked at his body. To his astonishment, his skin was almost unscathed—just a few small scratches. He didn't know how it was possible, but there was no time to think.
Nadia raised her palms toward him again. Massive flames, like a sea of fire gleaming in the snow's light, surged toward Rio. The fire's beauty was breathtaking—red and gold, like a crown of light and heat that seemed alive. Rio dodge to the left with all his strength, and the fire roared past him, so powerful it melted the snow in an instant and turned the earth beneath into molten lava. The air filled with the stench of burning and smoke.
Nadia, her glowing red eyes like two suns blazing in the dark, growled with a voice rough and full of contempt:
"You have no balance!"
Rio, now paralyzed by a cold, icy terror, screamed, "Please, stop, sister! I don't want to hurt you!"
Nadia sneered, her smile like a poisoned blade. "Hurt me? interesting!"
Her hands ignited again, and this time, a wave of fire, like a red and golden ocean swallowing the sky, rushed toward Rio. The flames danced in the air, beautiful and terrifying, as if possessed by a living spirit that burned only for destruction. Rio started running, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't control the frost wave to fight, and he had no sword. He just ran, like prey fleeing a predator's claws.
But as he ran, Rio's foot slipped on a patch of ice, and he fell to the ground. His breath caught, and his body trembled with fear and exhaustion. Nadia, now standing like a living sun amidst the snow, melted the snow around her with every step. The heat of her body weighed down the air, and the flames surrounding her glowed like a deadly halo. She stood over Rio, her eyes filled with contempt and rage. With a voice like a whisper from hell, each word striking Rio's heart like a blow, she said:
"All this time training, and still nothing. You're worthy of nothing—not our parents' love, not our sisters'. Why are you alive? Why don't you just leave us alone, monster? Why don't you just die?"
Her words were like venomous daggers, heavy and terrifying, as if they meant to tear Rio's soul apart. Nadia stared at him for a moment, her gaze full of disappointment and hatred, then turned her back on him without another word and walked heavily toward the palace, her flames gradually fading.
Rio, now with anger and pain swirling like a storm within him, rose from the ground. His breath was quick and ragged, and with all his strength, he shouted:
"You think I'm not trying? I'm always pushing myself! Always! Always! Always!"
His voice echoed through the empty courtyard, so loud it stole his breath. For a moment, he lowered his head, his hands trembling. In a broken whisper, he murmured, "But it's never enough… not for you, not for myself."
Nadia didn't even glance back. Her footsteps continued through the snow, and she vanished into the darkness of the palace. Exhausted and broken, Rio trudged toward one of the garden's trees. His body still burned from the heat of Nadia's fire, but his heart was colder than any winter. He leaned against the tree and sank to the ground, his face etched with despair and fatigue. His eyes stared at the snowy sky, but he saw nothing but darkness.
On the other side, Nadia entered the palace with heavy steps. She passed William, who stood in the hallway. Without looking at him, she said in a cold, emotionless voice, as if drawn from the depths of despair, "I told you he's not ready. We shouldn't take him with us."
William paused for a moment, his red eyes fixed on Rio in the distance. But in his gaze was something—not just concern, but a deep fear, a fear that seemed to come from an uncertain future.