Not a Step Back
The sun shone upon the horizon for the last time.
Crimson streaks spread across the sky — as if the heavens themselves had been wounded.
The wind whistled through the ancient walls, carrying with it the breath of a cold night drawing near.
Noa tilted his head back slightly, his eyes fixed on the blood-colored clouds.
Every red glimmer reminded him of lost trust — of the days that had slipped away.
Rion stopped a few steps behind him, suspicion and alertness mingled in his gaze.
> "The sun is setting," he said in a low but steady tone. "Darkness will fall soon. It's the perfect time to enter the palace."
Noa tore his thoughts away and turned toward Rion. He bit his lip, unable to hide the ache buried deep in his heart.
> "The palace…" he whispered, the pain hidden beneath his calm voice. "Yes. That cursed place."
His hands clenched into fists.
> "I wish everything I've heard was a lie, Rion. Maybe this time… someone will actually be waiting for me."
Rion stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder.
> "Sometimes the truth hides in the most painful places," he said quietly. "But if you don't face it, it will never let you go."
Noa gave a faint, sorrowful smile.
> "I remember the palace as it was in my childhood — white walls, silver pillars, music that danced between the winds…
Now it feels like nothing but darkness."
Rion looked out toward the capital. The sun's final light gleamed on the empire's towers — like gold dipped in blood.
> "Every empire hides its own darkness," he murmured. "The difference is: some command it… others are devoured by it."
For a moment, silence. The wind brushed against Noa's hair.
> "Then I will command it," he said firmly. "This time, the past will not consume me."
Rion nodded slightly.
They walked on in silence. The sun vanished. The palace towers now stood tall in the shroud of night — like ancient dragons sleeping within the shadows.
Every step drew them closer to the palace, to the heart of their pain and secrets.
And the wind, like the whisper of the past, murmured behind them:
> "Those who return… never truly change."
---
Night had fallen.
The moon's pale glow hung above, while a faint mist revealed the silhouette of the capital below.
In the distance, the palace shimmered faintly — a lone light burning within the dark.
Noa took a deep breath. His legs ached with fatigue.
> "The palace… why does it feel so far?" he muttered. "We've walked four, maybe five hours — yet it's still distant."
Rion straightened his shoulders, eyes tracing the path ahead.
> "We teleported near the city's outskirts," he said calmly. "This is the old quarter. The dragons born here are weak — considered frail from the very moment they take their first breath."
Noa fell silent, glancing around.
The empty streets, crumbling walls, broken towers — this was a place where glory had long died.
Rion continued:
> "But the central district… it's a different world. Pure-blooded dragons live there — power, pride, wealth — all theirs.
To them, people here are nothing but refuse."
Noa bit his lip.
> "Yes, I know. But even when I lived in the palace, I never realized how vast the capital truly was…"
Rion gave a short nod.
> "Everyone sees the world through their own window, Noa. You used to look from the palace's glass."
Silence again. Their footsteps echoed softly on the damp path.
Then Rion suddenly stopped. Noa frowned — Rion's shoulders began to tremble.
A faint humming filled the air.
From between his shoulder blades, two crimson wings slowly unfolded.
As they spread wide into the sky, sparks of light shimmered in the darkness.
Noa took a step back, astonished.
> "Rion… those wings…"
Rion smiled faintly, though his eyes remained serious.
> "We're wasting too much time on foot. Flying at night is safer — no one can recognize us now."
Noa chuckled softly.
> "You could've said that earlier."
Rion laughed under his breath.
> "During the day, the skies are full of dragons. They recognize every shadow.
Now, night is our only disguise."
He reached out his hand.
> "Hold on tight."
Noa hesitated for a heartbeat, then grasped his hand. His palm was warm — a reassuring warmth that cut through the cold.
> "Alright…" he whispered.
Rion spread his wings wide.
The air roared, lifting them from the ground.
Their feet brushed the earth one last time — then they soared upward.
Below them, the old district vanished into darkness. Ahead — the golden towers, the blue-lit palaces, the faint silhouettes of flying dragons — all grew nearer.
The night embraced them, yet the palace's glow pierced straight through Noa's heart.
---
Rion angled his wings, gliding lower. The wind whipped across their faces, tossing their hair backward like waves.
Below — the city lights flickered; above — endless, silent sky.
Now the palace stood clearly before them: towering spires, golden roofs, protective runes spiraling along its walls.
Watchful dragons hovered nearby; layers of glowing shields shimmered across the air.
To approach this place uninvited was nearly impossible.
Rion's eyes locked on the palace as he adjusted his flight.
> "The aerial defenses are strong," he said gravely. "Crossing from above is suicide. But…"
He tilted downward, wings slicing the air.
> "…if we descend at a sixty-degree angle, weave like a serpent, then glide one hundred meters below at fifty degrees — they won't detect us.
It's a spy route built by the Emperor's own agents. I call it The Rift Path."
He smirked.
> "They built defenses to protect the palace — yet created a crack that could destroy it.
That's the greatest irony of all."
Noa stayed quiet, following his every move.
> "Rion," he said softly, voice heavy. "You're brilliant. We're nearly the same age, but between us… there's such a distance."
Rion smiled faintly without breaking focus.
> "High-born dragons are born with advantages, Noa. It's not surprising."
Noa looked down.
Beneath them, the city lights glittered like tiny stars.
He saw his reflection in those lights — always behind, always fading.
> "Yes," he murmured. "Not surprising. But what surprises me… is that I never had potential at all."
The words hung in the air, heavy as stone. The wind could not carry them away.
Rion glanced at him — long, silent, thoughtful.
In his eyes flickered a brief ache… then resolve.
He turned forward once more.
His wings cut through the night as they descended along the Rift Path, faster and lower —
blending into the city's shadow, unseen by the watchers above.
Noa clutched at Rion's waist as the wind grew fierce.
Each beat of those wings carried them between freedom and danger —
each second, one step closer to fate itself.
The palace was now within reach.
But neither of them knew what awaited there: destiny, blood… and betrayal.
---
The Palace Tower
The wind howled endlessly atop the tower.
Behind the black curtains, a dim, flickering light danced.
By the window stood a man dressed in a long, dark robe.
Half of his face was hidden in shadow.
His fingers traced the glass as his eyes followed two faint silhouettes flying toward the palace.
His lips curled into a slow, chilling smile.
> "At last… you've returned, little brother."
His voice dripped with cold delight — laced with mockery and hatred sharp as blades.
In the reflection of the window, two armored figures appeared behind him —
clad in black steel and long coats, the imperial dragon insignia gleaming on their shoulders.
They moved silently, their faces blank, their presence suffocating.
> "You saw them, didn't you?" the dark figure asked softly, each word heavy as iron.
The first guard bowed.
> "Yes, my lord. Two of them. One is a dragon — flying."
A silence stretched — then the man turned slowly, a faint smile curling on his lips.
> "So your eyes are sharp."
The guard gave a nervous smile.
> "Thank you, milord—"
He never finished.
A sharp, slicing sound — shhk!
His eyes widened in shock.
Silence. Then his head fell.
Blood sprayed across the wall; his body stumbled forward before collapsing lifelessly.
The severed head rolled to a stop on the marble floor.
The second guard froze, terror choking him.
> "H-how… when… he was standing right next to me—"
He couldn't even raise his hands.
> "M-my lord… please, I—"
The dark man stepped forward. His boots echoed — cold, deliberate.
He spoke softly:
> "Since when did you think you could question me?"
In his hand, he still held the severed head — gripping it by the hair, blood dripping onto the floor.
His icy eyes pierced through the trembling guard.
> "I am not merely the Emperor's shadow… I am his fear."
He hurled the head at the wall — thud! — the sound broke the silence like thunder.
The guard dropped to his knees, eyes squeezed shut.
> "F-forgive me…"
The man turned back toward the window, gazing out at the city below.
The last light of the sun had already faded from the empire's sky.
He whispered — words like frost on steel:
> "Hide while you can, little brother.
But remember — in this city, in this empire, even in this sky… there is no place for you."
From behind, one of the shadows stepped forward.
> "Your orders, my lord?"
The man didn't turn.
He faced the dark horizon — where the last ember of sunlight died.
Only night remained now.
Night… and the scent of blood.
Hey there, reader! 🌙
Did you enjoy this chapter? If you did, don't forget to give a Power Stone, save it to your Library, and add it to your Collection 💎
This time, the pace quickened — because Noa's hidden power is finally about to awaken.
But remember… this is only the beginning level. His real journey starts now.
In the next chapter, secrets within the Imperial Palace, the truth about Rion's past, and Noa's first real trial await.
Share your thoughts and theories in the comments — your ideas might shape what happens next 😉