The next day, Noa's mood was ruined by the harsh reprimands from the previous day, and he hadn't been able to sleep well at all.
Noa rose slowly from his bed. Folding the blanket over his arm, he stood motionless before the mirror.
The reflection staring back at him filled his chest with rage and pain. In his eyes there was not confidence in himself, but deep uncertainty about his future.
"At dawn," he whispered, cracking his knuckles, "I will prove everything."
But deep in his heart, he knew the truth.
This was no ordinary trial — it was destiny.
A destiny intertwined with the very existence of the empire.
---
The palace corridors lay in utter silence, lit only by enchanted lanterns that flickered and trembled.
As Noa walked, his thoughts collided violently within him — torn between fear and a burning, unyielding will.
At the end of the corridor, he saw her — his mother, Arya.
Her long silver hair cascaded down her back, and in her eyes sorrow and warmth were inseparably mingled.
"Mother…" Noa stopped. "I know… you're worried."
Arya stepped closer and placed a trembling hand on his shoulder.
"I want to protect you, Noa. This is no simple trial. Your father is trying to strip you of your title as prince."
Noa lowered his head, his eyes growing dim with despair.
"I know, Mother. Even if Father had no reason at all, fate still forced him to have a failure of a son like me."
Arya fell silent. Her eyes trembled.
Noa forced a small, strained smile. "I will come back, Mother. Believe in me."
And without looking back, he walked away.
---
The palace courtyard was already packed to overflowing — dragons, Nivas, elders, even children — every gaze locked on one single point: the trial of the heir.
Before the throne stood the Emperor, his eyes cold, his voice like honed steel.
When he raised his hand, silence swept across the entire square.
"Today," he declared, his voice echoing like thunder above the mountains,
"the heir will face the trial.
If he triumphs, he remains prince.
If he falls… it is all over."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd — shouts of approval rose from every corner; the entire empire seemed delighted by the Emperor's words.
Noa stepped forward.
His heart pounded wildly, yet his gaze remained resolute — no hesitation, no fear.
Noa drew his sword from its sheath — simple, perfectly balanced, steady in his grip.
Suddenly the courtyard exploded toward him.
A colossal creature burst forth — scales black as the depths of night, eyes blazing crimson, smoke curling from its chest.
The ground shook with every step it took.
"There it is," Noa thought. "My trial."
The beast roared and charged, slamming its claw into the earth.
Noa leaped aside, barely escaping the shockwave.
His heart raced with panic; every breath burned with fear — yet inside him something fiercer burned even brighter.
An unquenchable flame.
"Not for myself… but for Mother — I must win," his mother's last words echoed in his mind.
He gripped his sword tighter and charged forward.
Light flashed along the steel as he struck the beast's flank. Blood sprayed — but the creature did not fall.
It roared louder, its fury shaking the entire courtyard.
With a powerful sweep of its tail, it struck him — sending Noa flying through the air.
He soared twenty meters, tumbling across the ground several times before coming to a stop. Pain tore through his body.
Yet still, he clenched his teeth and rose again.
Now his eyes blazed — crimson rings flaring brightly, the black slit at their center deepening.
The beast lunged once more.
This time Noa did not retreat. He raised his sword high, every ounce of his will igniting within him.
"I… AM… THE HEIR!"
He brought the blade down — the beast's claw met his strike in a thunderous clash.
The impact hurled him backward. His sword flew from his hand, spinning far away.
Noa crashed hard into the ground — and silence swallowed the courtyard.
Noa knelt in the dirt, trembling, gasping for breath.
His pupils shrank, eyes wide open — staring fixedly at the ground before him.
The same oppressive silence reigned over the palace square.
Whispers spread among the dragons:
"He… lost… at last."
The Emperor's eyes narrowed, his voice calm and icy:
"This… is defeat."
Arya's lips parted; her voice came out trembling like shattered glass:
"So… is it truly over? Must I lose my son?
Will he now be exiled?"