After buying Ico's daily essentials, Zack stood awkwardly in front of the public restroom, both hands weighed down with grocery bags. Ico had suddenly announced she needed to use the toilet and bolted inside, leaving him stranded outside the women's entrance.
"How long is she going to make me wait...?"
It had already been several minutes, and there was still no sign of her coming out. Zack sighed. To make things worse, there was no way he could check on her—this was the ladies' restroom, after all.
"Hey."
"Huh? What is it? Please don't bother me right now."
"Are you seriously loitering around the women's bathroom like some kind of creep?"
"I mean… of course I'm interested, sure. If I were allowed to, I'd probably even take a little peek inside—just once…"
"…So that's the kind of person you are. I can't believe I ever thought highly of you, Zack Blake!"
"Huh!?"
Zack snapped out of his thoughts, realization crashing into him. Wait—who was that voice just now?
Before he could fully turn around, a sharp heel slammed into his thigh.
"OW! What the hell?!"
He stumbled back, biting back another curse.
"What the hell are you doing? That's exactly what I should be asking you!" The voice was furious—and familiar.
Standing there, arms folded tightly beneath her chest, was none other than Princess Silva Steinert. Her expression was thunderous, golden hair flowing behind her like a blazing mane. Right beside her, smiling politely as ever, was her maid Shanon, hands neatly folded in front of her as if she hadn't just witnessed an assault.
"Why were you standing here like a weirdo in front of the ladies' room? From where I'm standing, you look like a textbook pervert."
"N-No, that's not it! Ico went inside and hasn't come out yet. I just got a little worried, that's all. Nothing pervy, I swear!"
"Why didn't you say so earlier? I can check on her for you if you're really that concerned."
Zack felt genuine relief. For once, Shanon's teasing smile felt like a blessing.
"Please—yes, that would help a lot!"
"Come on, Princess Silva. Let's go."
"Huh? Me too?"
"Helping those in need is the responsibility of royalty. That's part of the proud motto of the Steinert family, isn't it?"
"I-I know that already!"
Silva flinched, clearly caught off guard by Shanon hijacking the initiative. Her face flushed with embarrassment, but she quickly followed the maid into the restroom, her skirt swaying behind her with every indignant step.
.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.༄
Moments later, Silva and Shanon returned.
"We didn't find Ico," Silva said, slightly out of breath, "but in her place, we found this."
She held out a small, crimson beret—Ico's hat.
"This… this is definitely Ico's," Zack muttered, taking it with trembling fingers. "But why would it be lying on the floor…?"
He had been standing at the restroom entrance the entire time. If Ico had come out, he would've seen her. There was no way she could have slipped past him unnoticed.
"Besides the hat," Shanon added, stepping forward, "we also found these."
She held out a folded handkerchief, dainty and embroidered with floral lace. As she slowly opened it, a fine, shimmering dust sparkled within like crushed stars.
"What's this…?" Zack asked, his brow furrowing.
"In my opinion," Shanon said with a calm, ominous smile, "these are remnants of a Bright Dragon Crystal."
Zack's eyes widened.
Bright Dragon Crystals were the purest manifestation of a dragon's magic—rare, volatile, and often used to activate Oracles. Without them, humans couldn't channel magic at all. Dragons had been the ones to bestow such power upon the world, and crystals like these were their divine echoes.
"It's very possible," Silva said gravely, her voice tightening, "that someone used a magic-based Oracle to kidnap Ico."
Zack's blood ran cold.
"That strange feeling… I kept sensing someone watching us," he whispered.
"Then they've been after Ico this whole time," Silva concluded.
"Damn it! Why her?!"
"Stop panicking and use your head," Silva snapped, her ice-blue eyes locking with his. "Remember what you were taught in class."
Zack flinched under her gaze. It wasn't just commanding—it was... comforting.
"The bond between a Breeder and their dragon isn't something so fragile," Silva continued. "Even if you can't see it, you're connected by the Astral Flow."
"I know that, I just… I don't know what to do!" Zack admitted, frustration boiling in his chest.
"If she were a full Vaestro, you could summon her directly. But for a newborn… you'll have to find her the old-fashioned way."
"And how the hell am I supposed to do that?!"
"You have a way," Silva insisted. "You bear the fang mark, the brand given to you by the Mother Dragon herself. It's not just a mark—it's a conduit. A doorway into the Astral Flow."
Zack glanced down at his left arm where the fang mark was hidden beneath layers of fabric and a tightly wound bandage.
"I do remember… when Ico was born, my scar burned—like it was alive."
"Then focus on that feeling," Silva said, softer now. "And call out to her."
He hesitated, but nodded.
"…I'll try. Thanks, Princess."
Silva's cheeks flushed instantly.
"Th-There's no need for gratitude! Dragons are sacred beings—symbols of our kingdom. Helping them is simply my duty!"
With a huff, she turned on her heel, but the pink tint on her cheeks betrayed her usual pride. Behind her, Shanon giggled softly, clearly amused.
"Let's begin," she said with a wink.
Zack took a deep breath and rolled up his sleeve. Slowly, he began to unwind the bandage, revealing the intricate fang mark etched into his skin. It pulsed faintly, a rhythm buried in his soul.
Silva gasped.
"T-That's your fang mark…?"
"It seems so," Zack murmured.
He had always hated it. The mark was a reminder of something he couldn't understand, of a past that had been taken from him—memories of the Mother Dragon lost in a fog. But now wasn't the time for doubt.
"What do I do next?" he asked.
"It's hard to explain," Silva said. "Focus on the mark—really focus. Pour your thoughts into it. Let your desire to find Ico guide you."
"This all feels… kind of vague."
"Magic is never precise," Silva replied. "It predates language. The fang mark isn't something you control with logic—it responds to emotion."
"…Right. I'll give it a shot."
Zack lifted his left arm, steadying it with his right hand. Closing his eyes, he focused everything—his will, his worry, his longing—into that single point on his skin.
The brand began to burn—not painfully, but with a warmth that spread through his chest like firelight in the dark.
"Ico… tell me where you are…"
He whispered her name over and over, pouring memories into the plea. From the age of seven, Ico had always been there—her presence sleeping within him. She should have awakened sooner… but had remained dormant for three extra years.
Still, he had waited.
Even when others mocked him, even when his hope had dimmed… he had waited.
And now she was real. Tangible. His Par.
"…Please answer me…"
Suddenly, the scar blazed crimson, glowing like molten metal.
"Wha—?!"
From the center of the mark, a glowing butterfly emerged—delicate and radiant, its wings glimmering with astral light. It fluttered gently, then darted forward like a guide.
Zack's heart leapt.
"See! She's that way!" he cried, pointing.
Silva and Shanon exchanged confused looks.
"…See what, exactly?" Silva asked, squinting.
"You can't see it?" Zack asked, already stepping forward. "I don't have time to explain—just trust me!"
"I'm coming with you! It's too dangerous to go alone!" Silva smiled.
"And I follow Princess-sama wherever she goes," Shanon added cheerfully. "Even if it's into the depths of hell."
"Don't jinx it!" Silva barked.
Zack didn't stop—his eyes locked on the glowing butterfly ahead. He chased it without hesitation, drawn toward Ico's presence with everything he had.
He would find her.
He had to.