After Ignarion's departure, Seraphyx let out a deep sigh. High atop the tower, Prince Orion stood in silent contemplation, struggling to process what he had just witnessed. So many words, so many revelations—yet so few answers.
'What is this 'VlastMoroz's Emblem'? And how is Lord Seraphyx one of them? There's so much I don't understand... but one thing is certain: I have to uncover the truth, Orion thought, his gaze fixed on the horizon.'
Seraphyx soon soared back to the tower, landing beside him. Without a word, he scooped Orion into his arms.
"Let's return to the ground and see what's happening," he said.
As they descended to the castle's sheltered grounds, a grim scene unfolded. Knights moved solemnly among the fallen, wrapping bodies in white cloth. Doctors rushed between the wounded—some missing limbs, others bleeding from deep gashes. A few clung to life, whispering final words, while others bore only minor injuries.
The moment the people in the shelter saw Seraphyx, a wave of relief swept through them. King Orion and Queen Minerva, who had been tending to the wounded, rushed forward and fell to their knees before the Sovereign.
"Lord Seraphyx," the King said, breathless and solemn, "we are eternally grateful for your protection. But please... we are in the dark. Who was that blazing man who moved like molten ice? What were those creatures? And who unleashed them?"
"You do not have the right to speak of Ignarion," Seraphyx said flatly, his tone devoid of warmth. "I forbid you from pursuing that matter further. As for the attackers… I am still investigating."
Silence followed. Then, Seraphyx's expression softened, his divine intensity melting into something far more tender.
"What are the casualties?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost maternal.
The King hesitated before answering, lowering his gaze.
"Three hundred and forty-five confirmed dead. Two thousand three hundred and sixty-six gravely injured," he said heavily. "We've yet to receive word from the countryside."
Seraphyx's shoulders sank. For a moment, the warmth in his eyes faded entirely.
"You need not concern yourself with the dead or wounded," he said solemnly. "Just keep the people calm. I will take care of the rest."
"Yes, Lord Seraphyx," the King murmured.
Without another word, Seraphyx turned and took Orion's hand. With a swift motion, he tore open a glowing rift and stepped through, pulling Orion with him. The rift sealed shut behind them.
Inside the void, time stood still—yet the air brimmed with life and love.
"Prince Orion," Seraphyx said, his voice sharp with worry. "You know about VlastMoroz's Emblem now, don't you?"
A shiver crept down Orion's spine.
"Yes," he admitted, lowering his gaze. "It must have been a closely guarded secret. When you first uttered its name to open the rifts around Arian, I didn't think much of it. But now… I know better."
Seraphyx sighed and stepped forward. The scenery shifted—now a tranquil pond shimmered under a celestial light. Birds chirped from nearby trees, and lotuses bloomed on the water's surface.
"Since you know this much," Seraphyx said, "it's better that I tell you everything. But you must promise—never speak a word of this to anyone."
"I won't," Orion said firmly.
Seraphyx chuckled softly. "Look at you… full of confidence just because I trust you."
He turned to the glowing pond. "Then listen closely."
"The truth is… I am not the Cryo Sovereign."
Orion's eyes widened, but he said nothing.
"It began long ago, when the true Cryo Sovereign—an entity of immense power—was attacked by the Heavenly Principles. Though mighty, she was ultimately defeated and forced into hiding. She retreated deep into Dragonspine."
"There, weakened, she created the Space of Arian. It became a sanctuary, where she birthed the people of this land. From her very essence, she forged VlastMoroz's Emblem—an artifact composed not of metal or stone, but of living beings."
"Each piece of the Emblem held fragments of her divine power. From them, the Frost Dragons were born. I am one of them—the second piece: the Plume of Drakon. My role was to carry her voice and safeguard her children."
Orion drew a sharp breath.
"You've likely noticed my shifts in demeanor," Seraphyx continued. "Sometimes cold and distant… other times warm and nurturing."
"That's because the Cryo Sovereign—VlastMoroz, or Lady Rosen—sometimes possesses my body. She does it to feel close to her children again."
"You… you're not the Cryo Sovereign?" Orion whispered. "Then all this time… the warmth, the divinity… that wasn't truly you?"
"It was… and it wasn't," Seraphyx replied gently. "My identity is shared. The love you felt came from both of us."
Orion stepped back, his thoughts reeling. "I bowed before you. I wept in your arms. I called you 'Mother'… and it wasn't just you?"
"No," Seraphyx said. "But I was always there. I chose to share her presence… and your love."
Orion clenched his fists. "Then… should I feel betrayed or honored?"
"Both," Seraphyx answered. "The truth is never easy. But now it belongs to you."
Orion looked up, meeting his eyes. "So what happens now?"
"For now, we must find the First of VlastMoroz's Emblem—Blossom of Prana. She governs all life within the Space of Arian. If we can earn her favor… the fallen may yet return."
Orion nodded, and the two walked toward a pond nestled in a lush glade—a rare oasis of green in a frost-bound world.
Floating at its center was Kaelyra, the Blossom of Prana. Her long black hair shimmered with frozen petals and silverleaf vines. Her warm, sun-kissed skin glowed like the light of a forgotten summer. Her eyes sparkled like dew on moonlit grass. She wore flowing robes woven from enchanted flora and glacial silk. Her presence was delicate and soothing—so unlike Seraphyx's sharp, regal grace.
"Is that you, Seraphyx?" she called, her voice playful. "Come to nap in my garden again?"
Seraphyx stepped to the water's edge, his usual confidence dimming under her radiant presence.
"Kaelyra," he said softly, "Arian is in mourning. Hundreds lie dead… thousands suffer. I ask you, as the Blossom of Prana… please, restore them."
Kaelyra's smile faded like dusk. She tilted her head and walked toward him, her bare feet stirring soft green ripples across the water.
"Still so dramatic, little brother," she said, brushing a vine-like strand of hair from her face. "It's been ages, and you're still running to me when the world crumbles."
Seraphyx lowered his gaze, shame flickering in his eyes. "They were innocent. They died protecting others. They died believing in me."
Kaelyra stopped just before reaching land. Her voice softened, yet it struck deeper than any reprimand.
"And you think that makes them more deserving of life than those who came before? That your guilt earns you the right to upend balance?"
Orion, standing behind Seraphyx, stepped forward. "Please… if you can save even some—"
She turned to him, her expression warm, like a sister meeting a beloved younger sibling. A faint smile tugged at her lips, but sorrow clouded her gaze.
"Oh, sweet child," she said gently, "you don't understand the cost. Life is not just breath and heartbeat. It's place. Time. A thread in a tapestry we were never meant to unweave."
"But you have the power," Seraphyx urged. "You are the First. The heart of her Emblem. If anyone can—"
"I could," she interrupted, her tone now firm. "But I won't."
Silence blanketed the glade. Even the trees seemed to hold their breath.
Orion stepped forward, voice trembling but resolute. "Then let me bear the cost."
Kaelyra turned slowly.
"I will take responsibility," he said, fists clenched. "If the burden is too great for Seraphyx, then place it on me. I'll carry it. Whatever it is."
"Orion—" Seraphyx warned, but Kaelyra raised a hand to silence him.