Orion tore his gaze away from Yandelf's imposing silhouette outside and turned to Frieda, his voice caught between confusion and disbelief.
"I don't know… I just asked Mother Rosen to send someone who could pull us back if the Abyss tried to keep us. That's it…" His words slowed as the realization struck him, his pupils shrinking.
"…Mother Rosen. She did this on purpose didn't she? And here I thought—I was finally having a peaceful moment for once."
He sighed, pressing his hand to his forehead.
Felix crept closer, lowering his head like a nosy little brother poking at a fresh bruise.
"What do you mean? Did something happen between you and Lady Yandelf? …Wait—did she bully you?"
Orion's shoulders sank. His sigh carried a weight Felix couldn't understand.
"…Maybe not in her perspective."
The door creaked before he could finish. Yandelf stepped in, both hands pushing it wide like she owned the space. Her eyes locked onto Orion immediately, and a smile curled sharp across her lips.
"Nice to see you again too, Orion…" Her voice lilted with a smirk, words heavy with meanings only they shared.
Orion instinctively took a step back, heat crawling up his neck. He turned his head aside, bashful and cornered.
Before Yandelf could advance, Frieda slipped in front of him, her posture firm, her frown sharp enough to cut steel. Her eyes burned as her aura flared—a silent warning.
"Don't hurt him."
Yandelf chuckled low, raising her palms in mock surrender, but her grin only widened.
"Relax, Frieda. I'm not here to pick fights—or steal hearts. Not today, at least." Her smirk curved with mischief. "We'll get to… unfinished conversations later. For now, I'm here on Mother Rosen's orders. So I'm trying very, very hard to act with a little restraint."
Her tone dripped with teasing, but her eyes gleamed with intent.
Citlali stepped out of her room, hands on her hips, a frown pulling at her face.
"So this is the 'help' you mentioned? Finally decided to show up, huh?" Her gaze slid to Yandelf. "And YOU! I don't care who you are—no one, and I mean no one, walks into my house without wiping their feet. You're dragging mud all over my floor!"
Yandelf chuckled low, leaning lazily on her lance. "Looks like this little girl is mad."
Citlali's frown deepened. "Little girl? Excuse me—I'm over a hundred years old."
Felix leaned in close to Citlali, his frosty breath tickling her ear. "Lady Yandelf is over ten thousand years old…"
Citlali froze, her eyes going wide before she coughed and looked down, cheeks puffing out. "...I apologise for being rude. But you still need to wipe your feet before entering." She pouted as she turned away, striding over to the desk and picking up the lavender flower like a queen reclaiming her dignity.
Yandelf sighed, then deliberately scraped her boots against the mat until the mud smeared away.
"There. Happy now?" She muttered, before turning her attention to Felix. She ruffled his head with the ease of an elder patting a wayward cub.
"Felix, little boy. Noctharn is outside. He wants to talk to you."
Felix stiffened, his frills twitching. "Ugh… I don't like the feeling of this…" He grumbled as he reluctantly slid off the couch and began lumbering toward the door.
As he slithered past Orion, he whispered conspiratorially, "Chief Noctharn… Frost Lieutenant… The nest calls him by another name too." He leaned in closer, voice dropping to a hiss.
"HardAss Oldie."
Then, with the flick of his tail, Felix shut the door behind him.
Outside, the air turned colder—thick mist curling in with every breath the ancient dragon exhaled. Noctharn's massive form blotted out the pale light, his wings folded like cliffs of ice, his gaze glowing with a quiet fury.
"You are here…" His voice rumbled low, a weight that pressed on Felix's chest like stone. "Do you know how worried your comrades were? Not contacting back. Not returning. Disappearing without a word to the nest… And leaving with Orion without so much as a proper farewell."
Felix froze under that glacial glare, his scales trembling despite himself. His voice came out small, almost childish.
"I had Lady Yandelf's permission…"
Noctharn's eyes narrowed, mist curling tighter, his frown carving into something that felt older than mountains.
The mist thickened until Felix could barely see past the tips of his claws. Noctharn's massive head lowered, each breath a gust of icy air that rattled Felix's frills. His voice cut through the silence, not loud—worse. Calm. Cold.
"Permission?" Noctharn repeated, like the word itself was filth on his tongue.
"You think permission from one gives you the right to abandon all?"
Felix shrank, tail curling around himself, but Noctharn pressed on, his tone sharpened to a blade.
"Six years. Six years of silence. Six years where your nestmates searched the skies, calling your name. Do you know how many thought you were dead? Do you know how many stopped sleeping, waiting to hear the scrape of your claws at the roost? Even hatchlings who looked up to you… asked if Felix the Bright would come home."
Noctharn's eyes narrowed, glowing with an old grief that hit harder than anger. His voice rumbled lower, heavier.
"And yet you stayed away. Not a word. Not a farewell. Only absence."
Felix trembled, his scales paling. His mouth opened, but no excuse dared crawl past his lips.
"Tell me, hatchling," Noctharn continued, his wings shifting with the slow menace of a glacier cracking. "Do you think the nest is a place you can leave… until you're bored? Until you feel like returning? You are Frost-born. Blood of the peaks. The moment you forget that—" his teeth bared, white and cruel as jagged ice "—you are nothing."
The air itself froze solid between them. Felix's little breaths came shallow, shaky. His claws dug nervously into the earth, but he did not dare raise his head.
Back inside the atmosphere was different.
Citlali extended the Lavender Flower towards Orion, her tone flat, curious rather than kind.
"Are you sure you want to go in alone?"
"Yes," Orion said as his arm slid around Frieda's waist, pulling her close like a shield against the storm ahead. "I think I alone will be enough to bring our son back."
Frieda tilted her head, her pout dangerously charming. "I want to accompany you too, you know."
"I'm sorry… but no. I don't want to lose you again." His voice was gentle, but there was iron beneath it.
"That's not fair." Frieda's pout sharpened into a dagger. "Do you really think I'll just sit pretty on the sidelines while you hog all the glory? Just a few years ago you were a helpless prince who couldn't even fight off a slime without me holding your hand." She leaned into him, her gaze a challenge and a promise all at once.
"But—" Orion began.
"I am coming." Frieda cut him down with absolute certainty, her arms locking around him like shackles. "Unless you'd prefer me nagging about this one moment for the rest of eternity."
And then—it happened.
A vision, unbidden, ripped through Orion's mind. His blood froze. He heard voices not his own.
"Well, I'm glad I wasn't there to be blamed when you ruined our family."
"I warned you, didn't I? You never listen."
"You never learn, do you? Don't you remember what happened last time?"
His mother's voice. Her fury. The endless arguments that echoed through gilded halls. His father, proud once, reduced to a man praying for silence. The cycle burned into his bloodline: the husband errs, the wife remembers, and history sharpens its blade for every repeat performance.
Orion staggered, his breath caught in his throat. His hands trembled as if chained by ghosts.
"Oh, heavens no," he whispered, wide-eyed. "I am not dealing with that. Please—please—come along."
Silence fell for a heartbeat.
Then, from the corner, Yandelf's laugh. Low, throaty, merciless.
"Ha… you really are your father's son." Her smirk cut sharper than any blade. "The poor man never won a single battle at home either."
Orion shot her a glare, red creeping up his ears, but the damage was done. Frieda blinked between them, eyes narrowing suspiciously, her hand tightening on Orion's arm.