The afternoon sun filtered through the stained-glass windows of the Ducal Institute, casting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the marble floors. Edward Flower walked silently through the grand corridors, his footsteps echoing softly as he made his way to the library. It had been two years since his older brother, Raimon, returned from hunting the Glacial Wolf that winter. As predicted, the emergence of a cavalry mounted on magical beasts—the Frisian horses—had drawn the attention of the entire Solar Empire. The revelation that these majestic creatures had evolved from ordinary horses caused a stir throughout the land.
Nobles, intelligence agencies, and criminal organizations from all corners converged on the Flower Duchy, seeking to pressure the family into revealing their secrets. In response, the Flower and Damian Duchies united their forces, forming alliances with associated nobles to repel these intruders. The ensuing turmoil lasted two years, making it too dangerous for Edward and his sister Guillermina to return home. Their parents insisted they remain at the Institute, where they would be safer under vigilant protection.
During this tumultuous period, Edward and Guillermina immersed themselves in their studies. They delved into geography, poring over detailed maps of known and unknown lands. In politics and economics, they debated the shifting tides of the Empire, analyzing the consequences of new alliances and emerging conflicts. Their martial arts training intensified, honing their skills in swordsmanship and aura manipulation.
Yet, beneath the veneer of daily routines, Edward sensed something amiss. It began with a faint ache in his chest, so subtle he thought it a mere inconvenience from rigorous training. But over time, the pains grew more frequent and intense, sometimes feeling like an invisible claw gripping his heart. He chose not to burden his family with this, aware they were grappling with larger issues in the north.
One night, after an especially taxing day, Edward retired early to his room. Lying in bed, he hoped sleep would alleviate the persistent ache. Instead, he was plunged into haunting dreams.
He found himself in a vast, desolate landscape under a blood-red sky. Surrounding him were smoldering ruins and the remnants of a devastated civilization. The air was thick with the metallic scent of destruction, and an eerie silence pervaded, broken only by distant echoes of collapsing structures. Emerging from the horizon was a colossal shadow.
A silver dragon of unimaginable size soared across the sky. Its scales shimmered with a cold glow, and its eyes were abyssal voids. Each beat of its wings stirred storms, and its roar resonated like thunder, shaking the very ground. The dragon descended, obliterating everything in its path with silvery flames that consumed both matter and spirit.
Edward felt an unsettling connection to the creature, a deep and disturbing bond. Then came the whispers—ethereal voices without a source, infiltrating his mind. "Destroy... Consume... Dominate..." The words repeated, forming a sinister chorus urging him to surrender to uncontrollable violence.
He awoke with a start, drenched in cold sweat. His heart raced, the pain in his chest sharper than ever. Clutching his shirt, he tried to steady his breathing. Surveying his room—the books piled on his desk, practice weapons leaning against the wall, family portraits—everything was as it should be. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that something within him was changing.
The next morning, during fencing class, Edward struggled to focus. His instructor, a Silver-ranked knight named Sir Roland, observed him keenly.
"Edward, your stance is unbalanced," Sir Roland pointed out. "Center your gravity."
"Yes, sir," Edward replied, adjusting his posture.
His sparring partner, a young noblewoman named Amelia, readied herself. They exchanged formal bows and began. At first, their movements were fluid—a dance of attack and defense. But suddenly, a sharp pain pierced Edward's chest. His vision blurred, and the whispers returned, louder this time.
"Destroy! Attack!"
He lost control. He lunged at Amelia with unexpected ferocity, his strikes bearing dangerous force. Amelia barely managed to parry, retreating in surprise and fear.
"Edward, stop!" Sir Roland shouted, stepping in. He blocked Edward's sword with his own, the clash of metal ringing sharply.
Edward blinked, coming back to himself. He dropped his sword, which clattered loudly on the floor. "I'm sorry... I don't..."
Amelia stared at him, eyes wide with alarm. "Are you okay?"
"I don't know what came over me," he murmured, stepping back. He felt the weight of everyone's gaze—a mix of concern and wariness.
Sir Roland placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps you should rest for today."
He nodded weakly and left the hall, a sense of dread gnawing at him. Something dark was stirring inside.
Throughout this time, Sir Leon—now an Earth-ranked knight—had been silently guarding the twins. Disguised behind a wolf mask, his aura of gold and ice had become legendary among those who dared threaten the Flower family. Numerous attempts at kidnapping and assassination had been thwarted by the enigmatic masked warrior.
Tales of the "Golden Wolf" spread across the Empire. Some claimed he was a guardian spirit; others believed he was a resurrected knight from legends past. In truth, Sir Leon watched tirelessly, fully aware of the lurking dangers.
Meanwhile, Guillermina thrived in her studies. She excelled in politics and economics, displaying an innate ability to grasp complex alliances and trade intricacies. Her charm and wit earned her the respect of teachers and peers alike. Yet, she couldn't ignore her growing concern for Edward.
"Edward, you've been distant lately," she remarked one afternoon as they strolled through the Institute's gardens. "Are you sure everything's alright?"
He forced a smile. "Just tired. The studies and training are exhausting."
She eyed him skeptically. "You know you can trust me. We're twins; I can sense when something's bothering you."
He sighed, debating whether to confide in her. "I've been having... nightmares. But I don't want to worry our parents. They have enough on their plates."
"What kind of nightmares?"
"Hard to explain. Just strange dreams."
She took his hand gently. "Edward, we have to support each other. If there's anything I can do..."
"I know, and I appreciate it. But I think I just need some rest."
She nodded, though the concern didn't leave her eyes. "Alright. But promise me you'll tell me if it gets worse."
"I promise."
Days turned into weeks, and Edward tried to maintain a semblance of normalcy. He buried himself in books, studying history and military tactics. He admired Raimon's achievements, whose name was frequently mentioned at the Institute. His discoveries and innovations had impressed many, and Edward felt proud of his elder brother.
Yet, the dreams persisted. Night after night, the silver dragon returned, more imposing and terrifying. The whispers grew insistent, eroding his will. He began to dread sleep, knowing he'd be dragged back into that realm of destruction and chaos.
Desperate for answers, he scoured the library for ancient texts on dragons and bloodlines. He found references to blood curses and ancestral connections to mythical creatures, but the information was fragmented and cryptic.
"Looking for something in particular?" Sir Leon's voice resonated softly behind him.
Edward turned, startled. He hadn't heard the knight approach. "Just studying, sir."
Sir Leon regarded him through the wolf mask, eyes reflecting understanding. "Sometimes, the answers we seek aren't in books but within ourselves."
Edward lowered his gaze. "I'm not sure I understand."
The knight stepped closer. "I've noticed your unease. If you ever need to talk, I'm here."
"Thank you, but I don't want to be a burden."
"You won't be. We all face internal battles. Sharing them can lighten the load."
Edward considered his words. There was something comforting about Sir Leon's presence. "It's just that... I feel like there's something inside me, something I can't control."
"Have you spoken to your family about this?"
"No. I don't want to worry them."
Sir Leon nodded thoughtfully. "Sometimes, protecting those we love means allowing them to help us. Think about it."
With the end of the academic term approaching, the twins prepared to return to Violet Castle for their fifteenth birthday. The thought of going home filled them with both joy and apprehension. They had grown significantly over two years, learning independence and how to face challenges on their own.
"What do you think Raimon will think of us now?" Guillermina asked as they packed their belongings.
"He'll be proud," Edward replied. "We've learned a lot. And you've especially excelled in your studies."
She smiled. "And you've become stronger in combat. I'm sure Mother and Father will be impressed."
Edward hoped she was right. But a shadow of doubt lingered in his mind. What if the dreams meant something more? What if he was destined to bring harm to those he loved?
As their carriage journeyed northward through changing landscapes, Edward gazed out at the horizon. News about the Empire was varied. There were reports of new alliances formed through the sale of Frisian horses, strengthening the Flower family's position. But there were also rumors of rising tensions and latent threats.
"The world is changing," Guillermina commented, reading a letter from a friend. "It's exciting and a bit frightening."
"Yes," Edward agreed. "But we must be prepared to face whatever comes."
She looked at him with determination. "Together, as always."
He smiled, feeling a measure of relief. "Together."
As they neared Violet Castle, its majestic towers loomed against the evening sky. A sense of home enveloped them, mixed with anticipation for what awaited. But Edward couldn't shake the feeling that something significant was about to happen—something that would test everything they had learned and the strength of their family bonds.