After Lilya soared into the sky, Noa stood motionless for a long time. The fire slowly died down, its embers fluttering in the wind before vanishing into the dark. Only the chirping of insects and the distant wail of the wind filled the silence.
Noa rested his elbow on his knee and lowered his head. A heavy weight pressed in his chest —
> "Why does everyone hate me for no reason? They mock me, and if they could, they'd kill me. But why… even my father hates me now."
He slowly rose to his feet and looked around. In the dim half-light, shadows stretched down from the cracks in the walls; rats scurried across the ground, squeaking sharply. Noa closed his eyes, exhaled deeply, then bent down and picked up a stone.
With a quick motion, he slammed it down — the rat squealed beneath it, then fell silent. Noa lifted the limp body into his hand and stood quietly for a moment.
— "Disgusting…" he whispered. "But I've done worse to survive."
He tore open the creature's body and bit into the raw flesh. Warm blood burned his tongue, the metallic taste of iron spreading through his mouth. Yet he didn't hesitate — he swallowed. His expression didn't change; it only hardened.
> "Once, I dined from golden plates, savoring the finest delicacies. Now I chew on rat flesh. But there's one difference — back then, I wasn't independent. Now I'm learning how to live. This taste isn't filth… it's strength."
He pressed his palm to his forehead, smiling faintly.
> "Heh… maybe I'm going insane… Hahaha!"
Then he grabbed another rat, slammed it to the ground, and ate it. Then another. Warmth spread through his veins, heat filling his body, muscles tightening.
> "I won't lose again. No matter how vile this gets… I'll live. And the more I eat, the more my body learns to endure it."
---
When the sun began to rise
Noa returned to the dormitory. The others were already asleep. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the ceiling,
When dawn came, he was the first to wake. As he stepped outside, the cold air stung his skin. The courtyard was empty.
He took a deep breath, stretched his body, and began his training. Since the third month, his body had begun to change. Once, a single blow would knock him down — now he could withstand it and stay standing.
> "That day… that boy struck me once and I fell. But now? I wonder how it would end if he tried again…"
His fists sliced through the air, each strike sharp enough to whistle. Every blow carried hunger, pain, endurance — and the bitter taste of blood from rats, insects, even snakes.
> "I'm better now. I've mastered the art of survival. I think… I've grown more than I realize. And I'm curious — how far can I go?"
After training, he returned for breakfast. Fate's irony — what once seemed meager now felt like a feast: bread, a bowl of thin broth. No one spoke, though curious eyes followed him.
Later, he went to the library. Few dragons ever entered this place, but for Noa it was a treasure beyond measure. He devoured book after book — dragon anatomy, pressure points, combat techniques — memorizing every page.
> "Knowledge is another form of strength. To know the body is to defeat it. I may not be very strong, but if I know where the tendons lie, how blood flows, where the muscles weaken — no matter their size, I can bring them down."
Day after day, he lost himself in the silence of ink and parchment. Others mocked him, calling him "the fallen prince" or "the cursed child."
Noa only smirked inwardly.
> "Fallen prince… cursed child. Perhaps they're right. But that doesn't matter.
To me."
And he continued on his path.
Days passed this way. Lilya hadn't visited in a long time. The castle lords had prepared a special training chamber for the princess in another wing, and her schedule left no time to spare.
When the sun set and the sky burned crimson, Noa returned to his room. His body was weary, but his eyes still burned with quiet fire. The door creaked open.
Lilya stepped inside. Her face showed fatigue, but her eyes sparkled with concern.
— "Brother…" she whispered. "I came to see you."
Noa looked at her. His cold gaze softened slightly, but he said nothing.
Lilya sat at the edge of his bed.
— "You've changed," she said.
Noa shrugged. "Maybe."
— "No," Lilya said firmly. "You've definitely changed. You've become colder… stronger."
They fell silent. The light of Siamond streamed through the window, painting the room in silver glow, while the wind whispered outside.
Inside, Noa thought:
> "I can't see her as just my sister anymore. She's the closest dragon to me. But if I get too close… she'll get hurt. Her reputation will suffer. I must stay cold — even though it's hard for me."
— "Lilya," he said quietly. "Don't come here again. Being seen with me will only bring you harm."
Lilya shook her head.
— "I don't care. Let them talk, let them whisper. You're my brother."
Noa closed his eyes. Pain tightened his chest.
— "Since when… did you become so talkative? You're getting really annoying," he said, his pupils narrowing.
Her gaze fell to the floor. A faint smile touched her lips, but her eyes filled with tears.
— "Maybe… since you began to change."
Slowly she unfurled her crimson wings. Their light filled the room before she lifted gently through the window into the quiet night.
Noa remained still. His heart ached, but his face showed nothing.
> "Have I changed? No — you all forced me to. Your causeless hatred, your mockery at every turn, your desire to see me dead. But I didn't deserve it. Now you will be worthy of the new me."
The night deepened. The wind howled. The embers turned to ash. Noa lay down, closed his eyes, and waited for another dawn.
But as he slept, a faint mana seeped from the seal on his hand — black mist curling into the air. It filled the room for a moment, then slowly faded away.
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