The dawn had not yet broken. Dark clouds stretched across the edge of the sky like a veil of shadow. The wind carried a biting chill, but heavier than the cold was the weight that pressed on every breath.
In the northern wing of the palace, Noa opened his eyes.
His eyes had turned pale—white irises rimmed by a crimson ring, with a black vertical slit cutting through their centers. These were no ordinary eyes. They were the mark of a dragon, the seal of a power yet to awaken.
Noa rose slowly from his bed. Rolling up the sleeve of his tunic, he stared into the mirror. What he saw filled him with both fury and grief. His eyes spoke of power—power none would dare mock. And yet, still no wings. He remained trapped in the Niva form.
"Tomorrow at dawn," he whispered, fists tightening. "Tomorrow, I'll prove everything."
But deep within, he knew the truth: this was no simple trial. It was his fate—the fate of the empire itself.
---
The vast corridors of the palace were silent, save for the crackle of torches lining the walls. As Noa walked forward, an inner voice gnawed at him, tearing him between two forces: fear, and a fierce, unyielding desire.
At the end of the hall, he found his mother—Sylvia. Her long white hair spilled down her back as she looked at him with a sorrowful smile.
"Mother…" Noa halted, his voice low. "I know you want to stop me."
Sylvia stepped close, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"I want to protect you, Noa. This is no ordinary test. Your father is sending you to death, even though your wings have not yet awakened."
Noa shook his head.
"I cannot run. If I flee today, the whole empire will brand me as weak. No one will ever respect me again."
Her eyes trembled, but she said nothing. Noa forced a smile.
"I'll return, Mother. Trust me."
With that, he walked on.
---
By the time dawn broke, the great square before the palace was already filled. Dragons and Nivas, elders and children—every eye was fixed upon the trial about to unfold.
The Emperor stood tall before his throne, his gaze sharp and cold. When he raised his hand, silence swept across the crowd.
"Today," his voice thundered like stone splitting in the mountains, "the heir shall be tested. If he succeeds, the bloodline continues. If he falls… then we cast him aside."
Murmurs rippled through the assembly. Doubt clouded many faces. How could a wingless prince hope to stand against a wild beast?
Noa stepped forward. His heart pounded, but his eyes shone with unshaken resolve.
---
The northern valley lay shrouded in darkness. Fog coiled thick among the trees, and from the depths of the forest came a guttural growl.
Noa drew his sword. It was plain in design, yet balanced and steady in his grip.
Suddenly, a massive creature burst forth from the trees—its scales black as night, its eyes blazing red. Smoke curled from its belly, and the earth trembled beneath its steps.
"There it is," Noa thought. "My trial."
The beast roared, striking the ground with crushing force. Trees split from their roots and fell. Noa leapt aside, barely escaping the shockwave.
His heart hammered. Each breath dragged fear deeper into his chest. Yet a fire burned inside him, urging him forward.
"You are not ordinary." His mother's words echoed in his mind.
He gripped his sword tighter and lunged. Light flickered along the blade as he struck the creature's flank. Blood spattered, but the monster did not fall. It only grew more enraged.
The beast's tail whipped around, hurling Noa into the air. He slammed into a tree, pain searing through his body. His vision blurred, but he ground his teeth and forced himself back up.
His eyes gleamed—the crimson ring burning brighter, the black slit darkening.
The beast lunged again. This time Noa did not evade. Raising his sword high, he shouted with all the strength in his chest:
"I AM THE HEIR!"
He swung down, but the beast's claw met him head-on. The blow sent him crashing back, the impact shaking the ground.
---
The valley fell silent. Dawn's light spilled across the trees.
Noa knelt on the earth, breath ragged, his body trembling.
---
In the palace square, the crowd was struck silent. Murmurs spread, sharp as whispers of doom:
"He… he couldn't do it."
The Emperor's eyes narrowed, his voice as cold as iron.
"This is failure."
Sylvia's lips parted, a whisper breaking through her breath:
"So this is it? Am I to abandon my son? Or… is this… something else?"
---
"What happens next? Will the prince be stripped of his title? What is Zagn truly thinking, and what has Sylvia just realized? The answers will be revealed in the next chapter... 📖 Don't forget to save it to your Library, drop a Power Stone, and share your thoughts! ✨"
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