The forest seemed quieter after their conversation, but not calmer.
Aizen sat beneath a thick oak tree, his knees pulled to his chest, his eyes fixed on the silver-haired girl sitting across the stream. Lyra Subaru. A Dragonkin noble. An enemy by blood… yet she hadn't attacked. Hadn't mocked him. Hadn't run.
> Why is she really here?
He still didn't trust her—not fully. But she knew something about his people. About him. That was enough to keep him from leaving. At least for now.
Lyra sat cross-legged, cleaning her blade—a narrow, curved dagger engraved with dragon script. Every movement was graceful and controlled, like she'd been trained since birth.
> "You stare a lot," she said without looking up.
> "I don't trust you," Aizen replied flatly.
> "Fair," she said with a small smirk.
Silence again.
The light filtered down through the mist above, dancing across Lyra's pale skin and golden accessories. She didn't look like someone who belonged in a forest. She looked like royalty lost in the wild.
> "How did you know my last name?" Aizen asked quietly.
Lyra's smile faded.
> "The Black Lion Clan used to be one of the Twelve Beast Thrones. Ancient, powerful… feared by the old empires. But something happened over a hundred years ago. Your race vanished—erased from history. The Empire doesn't speak of it anymore. Not even in libraries."
> "So why did the Dragonkin destroy my village?" Aizen asked, gripping the dirt. "We didn't even have soldiers."
> "Because your bloodline shouldn't exist anymore."
That silence returned, but now it was heavier.
Aizen's heart thudded painfully. His hands trembled. Anger swirled in his chest.
> "Then what am I supposed to do?" he snapped. "Run forever? Hide? Wait until they finish the job?"
Lyra finally looked up. Her violet eyes were firm.
> "No. You train. You grow. You survive long enough to find the truth."
> "And then?"
> "You make your own decision. Revenge. Justice. Or… something else."
Aizen stared at her.
> She's serious…
Even though she was his age, her presence carried weight. Like she had seen the ugliness of her own people—and chose to stand apart.
> "Why are you helping me?" he asked.
Lyra looked away.
> "Because I hate being part of something broken. The Dragon Empire pretends it's perfect, but underneath… there's rot. Lies. And I want to know why someone like you was seen as a threat."
She stood, brushing dust off her robes.
> "You can come with me if you want. I have a map. Supplies. I know how to avoid scouts. But if you'd rather stay here…"
Aizen stood up slowly.
His legs still ached. His body was tired. His heart was confused. But his mind… was clear.
> "I'll come."
Lyra gave a single nod. "Then we move before sunset. This forest is calm, but we're close to the Northern Patrol routes. If they find you…"
> "They won't," Aizen said. "Not again."
Lightning crackled faintly in the sky. Lyra turned to look at him.
> "You can feel it, can't you? The storm inside."
Aizen's eyes glowed faintly gold as a breeze lifted his black hair.
> "I don't know what it is yet… but I'll master it."
They began walking, side by side but still distant in silence, as the mist started to part before them. The world was vast. Dangerous. Broken.
But together, two children—one of the Black Lion, the other of Dragonkin blood—took their first steps down a path that could burn kingdoms and rewrite history.
One step at a time.