After Lilya soared into the sky, Noa remained still for a long time. The fire slowly died down, embers drifting upward in the wind before vanishing into the darkness. Only the chirping of insects and the distant wail of the wind filled the silence.
Noa rested his hand on his knee and lowered his head. A heavy weight pressed inside his chest. The words Lilya had spoken as she left, the glimmer of pain in her eyes, cut through his heart like a blade. Yet his face showed nothing—only coldness.
"Who am I now? Not a prince. Not a friend. Nothing more than a beggar left behind. Even the weakest soldiers see me as worthless. And yet… I must live. No matter what it takes, I must live."
He rose slowly and glanced around. In the dim half-light, shadows stretched down from the cracks in the walls, while rats skittered along the ground with shrill squeaks. Noa closed his eyes, exhaled sharply, then crouched and picked up a stone.
With a swift motion, he smashed it down, pinning a rat beneath. The creature squealed and went still. Noa lifted its limp body into his hand and fell silent for a moment.
— "Disgusting…" he whispered. "But I've done worse to survive."
Tearing open its body, he bit into the raw flesh. Warm blood hit his tongue, bitter with the taste of iron. Yet he swallowed without hesitation. His expression didn't waver, only hardened.
"Once, I dined from golden plates, savoring the finest delicacies. Now I chew on rat flesh. But there is one difference: back then, I was weak. Now, I am learning how to survive. This taste is not filth—it is strength."
He seized another rat, slammed it against the ground, and devoured it. One after another, until the warmth of blood coursed through him, heating his veins, hardening his body.
"I will not lose again. No matter how vile it becomes—I will live. And I will prove that I can."
---
Dawn
Noa returned to the dormitory. The others were already asleep. He sat at the edge of his bed, eyes half-closed as he stared at the ceiling. At last, he lay down and sank into dreamless sleep.
When dawn came, he was the first to rise. The cold morning air stung his skin as he stepped outside. The courtyard was empty.
Drawing a deep breath, he stretched and began his routine drills. Since the third month, his body had begun to change. Once knocked down by a single punch, he now endured blows and stood firm.
"That day… that boy struck me once and I fell without resistance. But now? If he tried again, he would be the one on the ground—and I would remain standing."
His fists cut through the air, each strike sharp enough to whistle. Every blow carried hunger, pain, endurance—and the bitter taste of rat flesh.
"I am not strong. I am ordinary. But I have mastered survival. And survival… is greater than any strength."
---
The Day
After training, he returned for breakfast. Fate had its own irony—what once seemed meager now felt like a feast. Bread, a bowl of thin broth… and the rats he hunted. No one said a word, though curious eyes followed him.
Later, he walked to the library. Few came here, but for Noa, it was the greatest treasure in the world. He devoured book after book—anatomy of dragons, pressure points, arts of combat. He memorized every page.
"Knowledge… another form of power. To know the body is to defeat it. I may lack strength, but if I know where the tendons lie, how blood flows, where muscles fail—then no matter their size, I can bring them down."
Day after day, he immersed himself in the silent wisdom of ink and parchment. Others mocked him, calling him the "lazy, fallen prince." Yet he knew: knowledge would be his sharpest weapon.
---
Evening — Lilya Returns
As the sun set, painting the sky crimson, Noa returned to his room. Weariness tugged at his body, yet his eyes still shone with quiet fire. The door creaked open.
Lilya stepped inside. Her face carried the trace of 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 remained silent.
Lilya sat on the edge of his bed.
— "You've changed. Yesterday, I saw you defeat that soldier… it was incredible."
Noa shrugged.
— "It was only knowledge. I'm not strong. I simply found his weakness."
— "No," Lilya said firmly. "Your patience… your resolve—that is true strength."
They fell silent, the room bathed in moonlight streaming through the window, while the wind whispered outside.
Inside, Noa thought: "I cannot see her as just my sister. She is the closest person I have. But if I let myself draw near, she will be hurt. I must stay cold… even if it breaks me."
— "Lilya," he said quietly. "Don't come here again. Being seen with me will only harm you."
Lilya shook her head.
— "I don't care. Let them talk, let them whisper. You are my brother. My closest bond."
Noa closed his eyes. Pain gripped his chest.
— "Since when… did you stop listening to me?"
Her gaze dropped to the floor. A faint smile touched her lips, but her eyes shimmered with tears.
— "Maybe since you began to change…"
Slowly, she unfurled her crimson wings. The glow lit the room before she lifted herself gently into the night, vanishing through the window.
Noa remained, wrapped in silence. His heart ached, though his face betrayed nothing.
"I must protect her. Even if it tears me apart."
The night deepened. The wind howled. Embers faded into ash. Noa lay down, closed his eyes, and waited for another day to come.
But as he drifted into sleep, a faint darkness seeped from the seal etched upon his hand. Black energy whispered into the air, unseen, unnoticed—yet alive.
(What do you think this black energy seeping from the seal truly is?
Is it a curse, a hidden power, or a forgotten memory clawing its way back?
What fate now awaits Noa—
will it lead him to salvation, or to ruin?
🔮 Power Stone: +1
📖 Saved to Library