Rio moved through the cold, stone corridors of the palace toward the dining hall with small but determined steps. His white hair swayed slightly with each stride, and his silver eyes glinted in the dim light of the torches. Tonight was special for him—after a long time, the entire family had gathered around one table. The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread wafted through the air, and the occasional sound of Setia's laughter reached his ears from a distance. But his mind was elsewhere. Tonight, he intended to speak his piece—seriously, without backing down.
A few minutes later, as he entered the hall, his gaze first fell on the long wooden table. Maria, his mother, was setting the plates with a warm smile. William, his father, sat at the head of the table with his usual imposing presence, his fingers tracing the rim of his wine glass. Adrina, as always quiet and aloof, sat beside Setia, who was drawing strange shapes in her soup with her spoon. Nadia was also present at the far end of the table, her hair disheveled and her eyes seeming to hide something. When Rio stepped in, Nadia gave him a brief glance before lowering her head.
"Rio!"
Setia called out to her brother with excitement, waving her spoon.
"Come sit here by me! The cook made a new soup today—it's a little bland, but maybe some ice would make it tastier. You could help with that!"
She burst into loud laughter and glanced at Adrina, who merely raised an eyebrow.
Rio offered a faint smile and took the seat next to Setia.
"Maybe… if you teach me how to control it." His voice was calm, but a hint of curiosity rippled through it.
Maria said kindly, "You've always been talented, my boy. You just need patience." Then she gestured to the plate in front of Rio. "Eat. You've gotten thin lately."
William lifted his head from his glass and said in a deep voice, "Maria, he's five, not fifty. He's got plenty of time to fill out." A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but his gaze on Rio was heavy, It was as if he was measuring something.
Suddenly, Nadia spoke in a quiet but sharp tone, "Maybe if he stopped chasing strange things, he'd be more like a normal kid." She pressed her spoon hard into her plate and stared at her food.
Rio took a deep breath. He didn't want to start a fight, but tonight he was determined to voice his desires. He glanced at his plate, then lifted his head and looked straight at William. "Father… I want to learn to read and write."
A brief silence fell over the room. Setia froze with her spoon mid-air, Adrina cast a cold glance at Rio, and Nadia lifted her head with a scowl. William raised an eyebrow and said, "Read and write? Now? You're still too young, Rio."
"But I want to understand!"
Rio's voice grew a little louder, though it remained polite.
"Here, in the tribe, everything's beautiful and strange—the forests, the dragons, the magic… I just want to know what it all is. I don't want to always just look and not understand."
Maria placed a hand over her heart and said with concern, "Rio, sweetheart, those things are dangerous. We just want to—"
"Protect me, I know."
Rio interrupted his mother—something he'd never dared to do before.
"But I don't want to just be a kid who hides. I want to learn, like everyone else."
Nadia suddenly burst into a cold, bitter laugh.
"Like everyone else? You'll never be like everyone else, Rio. You think learning a few words will change that… that thing inside you?" She slammed her hand on the table, rattling her plate.
"Nadia!" Maria raised her voice, her face stern. "That's enough."
Setia tried to lighten the mood, laughing as she said, "Well, if Rio learns to read, maybe he can teach me too! I always mix up which letter is which!" But her voice was lost in the room's tension.
William raised a hand, silencing everyone. His gaze locked onto Rio, heavy and deep. "Why do you want this, Rio? Just for the forests and dragons? Or is there something else on your mind?"
Rio paused. His heart raced, but he had no intention of lying.
"I… I want to know who I am. This magic in my hands, this cold everyone fears… if I understand it, maybe I can…" His voice trembled, but he pressed on. "Maybe I can make it so people aren't so afraid of me. Even Nadia."
At the sound of her name, Nadia shot up from her seat, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I'm not afraid of you, Rio. I hate you!" Her eyes flashed, and her breathing was rapid. "You think reading a book will change you? You're the one who killed Uncle, the one who trapped us in this tribal cage!"
"Nadia, sit down!" William roared, slamming his fist lightly on the table. "This isn't the place for that."
Nadia glared at her father with fury but sat down after a few seconds, her hands clenched into fists as she stared at her plate. Meanwhile, Setia muttered softly, "Well… the soup's cold now."
Adrina, who had been silent until then, finally spoke. Her voice was icy but calm and measured. "If you teach him, maybe he can control it. Or maybe it'll get worse. I don't know. But he's growing up, Father. You can't hide him forever."
William glanced at Adrina, then at his wife Maria, whose face had paled. He took a deep breath and said to Rio, "I'll think about it, Rio. Not now, but I'll think about it."
Rio lowered his head, a small flicker of hope igniting within him. At least his father hadn't said "no." Maria placed a hand on his shoulder and said softly, "Eat, my boy. Dinner's not over yet."
Nadia muttered under her breath, "I wish it was."
But this time, no one responded. The sound of spoons clinking against plates filled the hall again, though the tension lingered in the air, as palpable as the cold vapor rising from Rio's breath.
A few hours after dinner, Rio stood with trembling steps in front of his father's study door. The large wooden door, intricately carved with dragons, had always seemed like an impenetrable wall to him—a place he wasn't allowed to enter without William's explicit permission. But tonight felt different. When he pushed the door open, the scent of old paper and leather-bound books hit him. The room was vast, lined with shelves of books stretching to the ceiling, a massive desk in the center strewn with open maps and scrolls, and a large window behind it letting in moonlight that cast long shadows across the floor.
William sat behind the desk, his fiery red hair glowing like dying embers in the moonlight, his red eyes—blazing as if flames danced within them—fixed on Rio. Adrina was there too, leaning against one of the shelves, her arms crossed and her expression hovering between coldness and curiosity. Rio hesitated for a moment but then took a deep breath and stepped inside, the door closing behind him with a sound that echoed like a bell in the quiet room.
"Sit, Rio."
William's voice was low and calm, but it carried a weight that compelled Rio to sit on the wooden chair in front of the desk. His small frame still looked tiny, though his feet now touched the floor—a strange growth for a five-year-old that couldn't be ignored. William stared at his son for a moment, his fiery eyes seeming to measure something.
"Why are you here?"
William began, resting his hands on the desk and interlocking his fingers.
"Dinner's over, everyone's gone to bed. But you're still awake, and it seems you've got more to say."
Rio lifted his head and met his father's gaze directly.
"Because I want to know, Father. Tonight you said you'd think about it, but I don't want to wait. I need to learn—the books, the magic, everything. I don't want to just be… a shadow in this house."
William raised an eyebrow, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "A shadow? You're five, Rio. Kids your age chase games, not books and magic. Where's this coming from?"
Adrina shifted from her spot, her voice cutting through the room like a cold breeze. "Maybe from the same place his growth comes from, Father. Look at him—he's not a normal child anymore. Yesterday, I saw his hand; when he was angry, ice dripped from his fingers. You can't ignore this forever."
William shot a sharp glance at Adrina. "I'm not ignoring anything, Adrina. But this…" He gestured toward Rio. "Is he an ice dragon or my son? I need to know before I give him something I can't take back."
Rio clenched his fists on his lap, his voice rising suddenly. "I'm your son, Father! But I can't just be that! If I'm an ice dragon, if that's what the legends say, then why won't you let me understand it? Why do you keep me away from it?"
William fell silent for a moment, his fiery red eyes narrowing as they fixed on Rio. "Because the ice dragon of the legends, Rio, is a merciless creature. It lives for thousands of years, freezes cities, and has a heart of stone. I spent months with Nadia and Adrina in the mountains and forests, tracking those legends. You think I'm distant because I want to be? I don't want to see that creature in you."
Rio's breathing quickened at those words, but he didn't back down. "Maybe I'm not that creature. Maybe I can be something more. But if you don't teach me, if you don't let me understand, how will you know? How will I know?"
Adrina stepped forward and said, "He's right, Father. If he doesn't control it, he might one day become truly dangerous—not just to us, but to himself. But if we teach him, maybe he can…" She paused, staring at Rio. "Maybe he can find himself."
William stood abruptly and strode to the window. The moonlight illuminated his fiery red hair, casting his shadow across the floor. "Find himself? Or lose himself? I can't take that risk, Adrina. You don't understand—I've seen the millennia-long lives of dragons, their growth, their power. He…" William pointed at Rio. "In five years, he's gone from a baby to this. That's not normal, even for us. A regular infant wouldn't walk or talk until thirty."
Rio stood from his chair, his voice trembling but firm. "Maybe it's not normal, but I'm here. You can't keep me in a corner and hope I never wake up. I'm awake, Father. And every day I don't learn, I grow more afraid—not of you, but of myself."
William turned and looked at his son, his fiery eyes filled with deep doubt. "You shouldn't talk like this, Rio. These words… these thoughts aren't those of a five-year-old. Who are you?"
His voice softened, but a trace of fear lingered within it—a fear he couldn't fully hide.
Adrina placed a hand on Rio's shoulder and said, "He's my brother, Father. And if you trust him even a little, maybe you'll see he's not the ice dragon of the legends—at least not yet." Then she looked at Rio and added more quietly, "But you need to be patient, Rio. You can't understand everything overnight. It's dangerous."
Rio glanced between his sister Adrina and his father William. "I've been patient. Five years of patience. I don't want to just be a monster everyone fears—even myself. If you don't teach me, one day those legends might come true. And then there'll be nothing left but regret."
William took a deep breath and leaned against the desk, his hand resting on a scroll as his fingers pressed into the aged paper. "You understand far more than your years, Rio. And that terrifies me—more than any dragon I've seen in the sky."
He paused and glanced at Adrina. "Maybe it's time I show you some things. But not tonight. Go to bed. We'll talk tomorrow."
Rio stared at his father for a moment before heading to the door. His heart pounded—he didn't know if this was a victory or just another failed attempt. But just before turning the handle, he looked back and said, his voice slightly shaky, "Father… who was my uncle? No one's ever told me anything about him. Nadia thinks I killed him. Why?"
The room froze in an instant. William, who had been gazing out the window, turned slowly. His fiery red eyes now seemed cold, like embers buried under ash. His voice dropped, heavy and foreboding. "It's not your fault, Rio. It never was."
He took a slow step toward him and continued, "That story isn't yours—not yet. When the time comes, I'll explain everything myself. But not tonight. Go."
Rio looked into his father's eyes and felt, for a moment, something burning deep within that gaze—a secret, a pain. Then he turned to Adrina and gave her a small smile. "Thanks for standing up for me, sister. I love you." His voice was soft, but it carried a depth that echoed in the quiet room.
Adrina froze for a second. Her eyes widened slightly, as if she hadn't expected those words. Rio nodded and opened the door, stepping out as it closed behind him, the sound reverberating through the hallway.
In the room, Adrina still stared at the door. A faint, subtle smile—so small it was barely noticeable unless someone looked closely—curved her lips. A hidden warmth flickered in her eyes, something even she couldn't fully conceal. William watched her, his fiery red hair casting a long shadow in the moonlight. His voice was quiet but laced with doubt and worry. "Adrina, keep an eye on him. Something's not right. I don't know if he's truly my son or an ice dragon trying to break free. We need to understand him—thoroughly. If we're a moment too late, we might not be able to stop what's inside him."
Adrina looked at her father, her faint smile now gone, though a shadow of it lingered in her eyes. "I'll watch him, Father. But what if he's just Rio? What if we're wrong and push him further away from us?"
William turned back to the window, staring at the moonlight. "Then I hope one day my son can forgive us for what we've done." His voice faded into the silence of the room, but the doubt in his heart remained alive.
Rio walked back through the stone corridors of the palace to his room with steady steps. His heart still raced, but a small spark of joy glowed within him—Adrina's support lingered in his mind, warming him slightly. But as he reached his door and touched the cold metal handle, an old anger flared in his chest once more. He opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it softly behind him.
His room was larger than a typical five-year-old's, an open space that seemed built for more than just sleeping. The walls were gray marble with white veins, gleaming faintly in the soft light of a magical lamp—a floating orb of pure light hovering above his bed, unsupported, casting a gentle white glow like morning mist that threw soft shadows across the walls. His bed was larger now, made of dark wood with a blue woolen blanket, its edges slightly frayed. A long wooden table stood against the wall, covered with strange ice stones he'd collected from the courtyard. A large arched window opened to the palace grounds, its stained glass breaking the moonlight into shards of blue and silver, framing the stars like a painting in the sky. The air in the room was cold—not just from the stones, but from the icy vapor that sometimes escaped his breath.
Rio stood still for a moment and took a deep breath. Then, with a slight frown, he muttered under his breath, "Damn you, X." His voice was thick with anger. "Why me? Why did you make me like this? An ice dragon… something everyone hates."
He clenched his fists and walked toward an old silver mirror in the corner by a shelf. "You threw me into this world, into this body, and now I have to deal with everyone's hatred. Nadia, the tribe… even my father."
He stopped in front of the mirror and stared at himself. His white hair shimmered like snow in the magical light, and his silver eyes flashed for a moment, a spark of ice flickering within them, startling him briefly. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut. For an instant, a blurry image flashed in his mind—his old face. Back when his name was Christopher Ryde. Black hair like the night swayed in the wind, and dark green eyes always seemed to hold a secret. That Chris had been alone, distant from everyone, consumed by purposes that left him with nothing in the end. He opened his eyes and stared into the mirror.
"Not again. This time, I won't repeat my mistakes."
But a deep fear gnawed at him—a fear tied to William. His father wasn't just a strong man; William was clever, far too clever. Those fiery red eyes seemed capable of seeing everything, uncovering every secret. Rio remembered how, in the Work room, William had sensed his doubt with a single glance. That intelligence came from experience—thousands of years living among dragons, wars, and the mysteries of this world. William was someone who had roamed the earth, chased legends, and knew what an ice dragon was. Rio was afraid because he knew if his father ever decided he was truly a threat, there'd be no escape.
Sitting on his bed, he looked at the ice stones on the table. He ran a finger over one, and a thin layer of frost formed beneath his touch. "I have to learn magic," he said quietly, but with resolve. "This world… there's no technology here. No machines, no electricity. Just power and swords."
He recalled how, over the few years he'd been here, he'd pieced together from watching the tribe and listening to his mother Maria that this was a fantasy world—a place where the strong survived and the weak perished. Rio wasn't foolish; he'd grasped that quickly.
"If I'm not strong, I can't protect the things I care about—Mom, Adrina, Setia… even Nadia."
He lifted his head and gazed out the window at the stars, glittering like jewels through the stained glass. "And these stars…" His eyes sparkled. "They weren't in my old world. They're a new world, full of mysteries. I want to understand them. I want to know magic—not just for myself, but so I can have a place here."
He clenched his fists and looked back at the mirror. "X put me here, but I won't just stay a monster. I'll become strong, no matter the cost."
The magical light flickered for a moment, as if responding to his thoughts. Rio took a deep breath and slipped under the blanket. The fear of William still lingered in his heart, but his determination outweighed it.
"This time, I won't choose loneliness."
He whispered those words to himself and closed his eyes, the image of the stars glowing behind his eyelids.