Chapter 13: Blood of Ashkar
Present
Cinderella Palace...Second Princess's Personal Training Grounds
The vast training hall had fallen into silence.
The blade was still lodged deep into the marble wall, its hilt trembling faintly from the force of impact. Sunlight streamed through the enchanted skylight, casting long shadows across the polished floor. Dust floated lazily through the golden beam, untouched and weightless.
And at the far edge of the room, beside a low bench of carved stone and wood, two figures sat in quiet distance.
They didn't speak.
Aven DragonBlood sat upright, arms crossed, gaze fixed ahead. His crimson robes flowed over the edge of the bench like a dying flame, his expression unreadable, his aura calm but sharp... like a blade sheathed but never forgotten.
Aella DragonBlood sat beside him, only a few handspans apart... and yet the distance between them felt endless.
Her back was straight, her fingers resting loosely in her lap, but her gaze was tilted... softly turned toward him. Her red eyes shimmered with something quiet... happiness, guilt, and something else. Something buried deeper.
He didn't return her gaze.
Only after a long silence did he roll his eyes to the side, sharp and cold, meeting hers without flinching.
And then, flatly...
"What are you looking at?"
His voice was low, almost lazy, but the edge was unmistakable. A command, not a question.
Aella blinked. Her eyes dropped. She said nothing at first. Only the faint shift of her shoulders betrayed the way her thoughts drifted... to somewhere far away, somewhere painful.
Aven didn't look away.
"And why are you holding a sword?"
Still no change in tone. Still that quiet disdain.
"You always said magic was more convenient," he continued. "You used to say carrying a blade was a waste of strength."
Aella's voice was soft when she finally replied.
"...Yeah. But I think I should train my body too. We use magic to strengthen ourselves, but... I want my body to be strong even before I apply any magic."
Aven scoffed lightly through his nose.
"You're acting differently."
There was no accusation in his tone. Just observation. Sharp and emotionless.
Then, after a pause...
"Is something bothering you?"
Silence.
Aella didn't answer right away.
Her head lowered again, her expression flickering. Sadness. Hesitation. And then, when she lifted her face once more, she smiled.
"It's nothing, Brother."
But her smile didn't fool him.
And it didn't last long.
They both stared forward now. Not at each other. Just into the stillness.
The marble floor. The dust. The distant hum of magic in the walls. Time seemed to slow.
And then...
"Why don't you just take the throne already?"
Aella's voice broke the silence.
Softly spoken, but firm. It carried through the chamber like a ripple through glass.
"I mean... Father is ill," she continued, "and someone needs to sit on that throne. Even if just as a symbol."
Aven didn't reply at first.
He turned his head slightly toward her. But his lips stayed closed. His jaw tightened.
Then finally...
"Now I'm sure something's wrong."
His voice was quiet. Not angry. Just... knowing.
"The old you would never say something like this," he added, staring at her now.
"I'm serious," Aella cut in. Her eyes met his directly, and for the first time since they sat, her gaze was filled with clarity.
Determination.
She meant every word.
Aven said nothing.
He looked away, down at the stone floor. The sunlight cut across his face, casting one eye in gold and the other in shadow.
"I haven't thought about it yet," he muttered. "And besides... the First Queen and the Second Queen are already managing things fine. I'm not interested in..."
"You know that's not enough."
Her voice cut through him again.
"There must be a ruler to stabilize the Kingdom. Someone the people can see. A pillar."
A beat passed.
Then his voice rose, just slightly...
"Let's not talk about this."
He turned to her sharply. His eyes locked on hers.
And she… fell silent.
Aella looked down once more. The weight of the moment sat between them like a sword buried in stone.
Then... Aven spoke again.
His voice was calmer now. But a faint smirk tugged at the edge of his lips.
"Oh, right. I heard you went to that dwarf... tried to get something forged."
He leaned back slightly, arms folded.
"But he refused, didn't he?"
His smile widened faintly. There was no humor in it.
"Let's visit him together next time," he added, his voice almost playful.
But then...
His gaze shifted. And something flickered behind it.
Bloodlust.
It was subtle. A glint. A thread of something dark and deadly just beneath his calm exterior.
Aella didn't move.
And for a long moment, neither of them said another word.
The sword still trembled in the wall behind them.
And the training ground... remained still.
________________
King Palace
King's Quarters
Evening Light
The sky beyond the tall windows was awash in gold, the sun melting into amber streaks across the floor. Shadows lengthened across the bedchamber, brushing over the ornate columns and dark curtains.
A book snapped shut.
__________
Asharic's Pov
I exhaled softly and placed it beside me, the thick cover humming faintly with ancient aura. Its leather had darkened over time, the golden inscription on its front half-faded... Half-Dragons.
I leaned back against the headboard, closing my eyes.
So this is what it means... Half-Dragons.
The language was foreign... older than the Empire itself... yet I understood it all. Word by word. As if the letters spoke directly to my blood.
The book was filled with truths no one in this kingdom dared whisper. Secrets that even the nobles, cloaked in their pride, had long forgotten.
Apparently… there are realms.
Realms far beyond this one. One belongs to dragons. The other... ours... belongs to humans. And the two rarely, if ever, meet.
Dragons rarely cross into our realm, and humans? Almost none return from theirs.
But the book said something else.
Something stranger.
Half-Dragons are born with physical strength far superior to humans. Even without training, even from the moment they first cry... their bodies hold power.
A power that is quiet. Dormant. But still undeniable.
Dragons may be the strongest creatures in existence.
But humans... we possess potential. The potential to rise above even them. To reach the level of demigods.
Rare, yes. Unbelievably rare. But not impossible.
So how… how does this DragonBlood run in my veins?
Then came the truth.
Not from dragons and humans.
But dragons and angels.
A forbidden union.
A taboo even in their realms.
And yet, it happened.
A child was born between the two... something that could not be called human… nor dragon… nor angel. A being cast out from both realms.
That being fell here... to the very place where the Ashkar Kingdom now stands.
And at that time… a demigod, once human, was also here.
And from those two… came the true beginning.
The DragonBloods.
Blood that flows with the strength of dragons.
With the grace and the beauty of angels.
And the potential of men.
The first Emperor.
The founder of Ashkar.
The true source of this kingdom's pride.
No wonder the nobles speak of legacy.
They have no idea what it actually means.
I slowly opened my eyes.
The golden hue of the room had grown softer now. Evening was deepening. The light had dulled into a quiet orange, painting the edges of the chamber in warmth.
Across from me, seated neatly in the high-backed chair, Anevra read over a stack of documents. Her gaze sharp, her lips slightly pursed. She hadn't looked at me once since I picked up the book.
She still didn't know.
Didn't realize what I had just uncovered.
Didn't realize what she was.
Now it makes sense…
That heaviness when I lifted her.
I had blamed this body... thought it was still weak. But no… even newly awakened, I had lifted something that weighed a few tons.
Half-Dragons.
Their bones.
The density increases based on instinct... thickening in sleep, reinforcing under danger. They become immovable. Unbreakable.
A defensive instinct embedded in their very marrow.
And dragons… dragons were far beyond even that.
Anevra...
You're one too, aren't you?
And me…?
What exactly am I?
I looked down at my bandaged hand... the one that had sent that knight flying across the training field with a single strike.
So that's why he was pushed back so easily.
This body may be weakened, dulled, forgotten by the court…
But now I understand.
Now I know what I can do.
And yet…
I can't act. Not yet.
The kingdom remains in the same fragile state as it was in the novel. Even with this body, if I move without knowing the full picture… I'll end up dead again.
I have to gather more.
Quietly.
Carefully.
No one can know who I am yet.
But that woman... Anevra... she'll notice the moment I step out.
Her senses are sharp. Too sharp.
I need a way to slip past her eyes.
But how.
I sat still for a moment longer as the last of the sunlight faded beyond the mountains.