In the apartment 106 of a high-rise building, in one of those small rooms, into the morning, there intruded a sharp and relentless beeping of the alarm clock in its wake-up voice: "Beep, Beep, wake up, wake up, Beep." It cut through the stillness like a shrill command, echoing off the four walls. A small boy lay cocooned in the warmth of his bed, stretching out a lazy hand in the direction of the noise, so to say, blind fumbling across the bedding to silence it. Finally, his fingers came in contact with the cold metal, and the alarm ceased. A relieved sigh escaped him as he turned to sink back into sleep's sweet embrace.

"Knock, knock, knock. Drake, wake up! Already 8:00 AM, and it is your entrance ceremony today; you have to make a good impression to be a new student!" An urgent yet soft voice echoed outside his door as each of his knocks acted like a gentle tug from his dreams. Finally, the boy sat up, his bleary eyes struggling to focus as he ran a hand through tangled hair.

Okay, Mom, you don't have to knock anymore; I'm awake," he mumbled, stretching the sleep off his arms and legs. The resigned sigh slipped out as he slipped out of bed and trudged into the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower. The cold water slapped him fully into the day, washing away the remnants of sleep. Half an hour later, he emerged, dressed and ready, and opened the door of his bedroom toward the dining room.

"Get up and come have your breakfast; there is no time to be wasted," called his mother, drawing a chair for him. On the table a simple repast was laid: bread, fried eggs steaming tea. "Double up but don't gobble. You will choke." She left him to his breakfast, herself busy with the morning preparations.

He ate in silence for a while before reflection started to dawn on him. "My name is Drake," he mused, turning his face to look at his reflection in the window. "I'm 18, a fresh student in the University of Ilorin. Mom told me my father died before I was born. Mom's name is Sara, and she writes web novels with a contracted company."

He got up from the table, grabbed his backpack, and headed for the door. "Mom, now I go!" he hollered over his shoulder.

"Alright, son! Remember, no fights or trouble with colleagues and teachers!" Her raised warm voice followed him while he opened the door.

"Alright, Mom, goodbye!" he replied, giving a slight wave before he stepped out into the hallway. The morning air was crisp as he trotted down the street, his eyes glued to his phone. He came to the pedestrian crossing and, with just that merest glimmer of his eye, kept walking across with the crowd, lost to the world at large around him in his digital world. But again, fate had other plans.

It had come out of nowhere: a truck thundering toward him, its frame closing in fast and monstrous. Drake's eyes widened as he finally looked up, but in that split second before impact, a shimmering circle of light appeared beneath his feet-swirling with an energy that defied logic. He barely had time to gasp before the world around him twisted and shifted, pulling him from the street and into the unknown.

An ice castle glittered before them, the atmosphere around it thick with energy and the soft murmurings of people. "Your Highness, are you certain you called the right one? I do not feel an ounce of mana from him, and his physique does not look fitting for magic," a voice now laced with doubt asked.

Drake felt his stomach roil with nausea as he fought to get his bearings. Shapes and colors whirled around him until finally, he could see clearly. There were two women in front of him; both their hair was white, like freshly fallen snow. One had her hair long, cascading like a waterfall that had frozen, her eyes cold and piercing like glaciers. The other had her hair short but her expression spoke volumes about suspicion.

"I am Lena, the Water Dragon Queen," the long-haired woman announced coldly and nobly. "You have been brought here to be used as a vessel for the poison coursing through my body."

Drake blinked, trying to process her words. "Wait, you mean. you're poisoned, and you want me to take it in?" he asked, wildly gesticulating around him.

"Yes, you grasped it right." Lena's words cut through, cold and razor-sharp, at his confusion.

He took a wary step forward, his face creased by concern. "And what if I refuse?"

The woman with the short hair raised her hand and summoned an ice blade in her hand that glittered, her eyes almost dangerously shining. "Then we will have no choice but to kill you," Lena replied with a nod of detached finality.

Drake fisted his hands, a hint of defiance edging into his voice. "So it's either way, a death sentence, huh?"

Silently, the woman with short hair flung the blade of ice at him. Automatically, Drake crossed his arms over his chest, his heart racing. "Wait! I'll do it!" he exclaimed. The blade stopped in mid-air, shining while suspended threateningly.

Lena turned away, her smile faint. "Good. There is nothing for you to do; we will hold a ritual to transfer the poison into you. tonight," her voice came low and cool, carrying with it a promise of chills. Her head turned then, an impish hint sparkling in her ice eyes as she looked back at him. "Through intercourse."

Drake's cheeks flared hot. "W-wait! I'm still. I've never. I'm a virgin!" He stammered, he stumbled backward as he protested.

Lena's eyes went cold again. "Take one more step, and I'll remove your head from your shoulders." She nodded to the short-haired woman. "See to it he is fed and prepared. I don't want anything to happen to him before tonight. Understood?"

The woman with the short hair bowed. "Yes, Your Highness." She motioned Drake to follow her and walked out of the queen's chamber, down a hallway toward a large dining room.

Drake swallowed hard, looking back at the towering doors behind him, his fate weighing down upon him like the chilling walls of the ice castle surrounding him.