1217-08-13
I lay comfortably in my bed, wrapped snugly in warm blankets. It was warm—almost too warm—but comforting.
In some strange way, Leader had been right. My hair had turned a silver-grey, and my body had nearly fully adapted to the cold. The snow fell heavily outside, but I hardly noticed. Everyone else stayed indoors, yet I found peace in the frost.
Leader wanted us to be his successors. I wondered about what was next, what steps to take. They trusted us, and that trust was what truly mattered. Grey hair—grey hair defined the people of Nor.
Once he passes, I will take the chair, the mantle of Leader. Responsibility. A part of me longed to escape, to leave these people behind. But I couldn't. They meant more to Gold than anything else, and that knowledge made me happy in a way I hadn't expected.
When I first came here, I thought this place was a frozen wasteland, a palace of desolation where hope could never take root. But Gold taught me otherwise. She had been there—the warmth to my cold. As we lay beside each other, Sam nestled between us, a warm smile formed on my face.
Sam's patchy hair was nearly the same grey as mine now, her light olive skin glowing faintly in the dim light. Gold's skin shimmered too, radiant despite the cold. Snow, curled up in the other bed, wagged his ball-ended tail back and forth as he watched us.
I carefully slid out of bed, ensuring not to wake them, and fed Snow the last of the jerky I had stashed away.
"I feed this dragon more than I feed myself," I chuckled softly.
Death.
The word crossed my mind, stark and grim. The dragons. The Ance. They were gone now. I had always believed the Ance was mine—that I was tied to it because that's what they told me at Venadoma. I had believed it, truly.
But they were lies.
All lies.
But what makes Ance so rare, such an essential material? Many have asked. Dragons dying is already an oddity, but Ance—what remains of them—can be used to create weapons, bombs shaped by the element of the dragon it came from. With the amount of Ance stockpiled in Nor, we could, theoretically, destroy the world in one decisive blow.
However, Ance alone isn't enough to craft these weapons. Another ingredient is required—one so secret that only the highest-ranking noble families know of it.
Tobe.
Tobe is allied with Marano, though their alliance is tenuous at best. It's a façade, crafted for mutual gain rather than genuine trust. Still, it exists. If we escaped to Tobe, would they help us? Or would they betray Marano—and us—for their own benefit?
Tobe, the land ruled by the Supreme Leader.
Shatar.
Shatar is not allied with Marano, but their nation is no friend to visitors—especially those from other countries. They would most likely kill us on sight if we dared to set foot there, even if we somehow managed to make it across the borders.
Yet, Shatar feels like the better bet. The only problem now is finding a boat. It's said that King Milton visits Nor every one to two months to check on the nation. That would be our moment. Someone could distract him, keeping him preoccupied, while the others boarded his ship.
I've seen King Milton a few times at Venedoma. Each meeting was worse than the last.
Yawn.
A soft sound jolted me from my thoughts. Gold was awake. Cradling Samantha in her arms. She turned to me with a smile.
Her hair, a silver cascade. She had a way of looking at Samantha, her amber eyes soft and full of devotion.
"Morning," she whispered, her voice warm.
"How long have you been up?" I asked, my voice soft in the quiet room.
"Almost as soon as you did," Gold replied. "You really like that dragon, don't you?"
"Yeah," I admitted, glancing over at Snow. "I hope he survives."
"He'll die if we don't do something. Look at the others."
I didn't answer, the weight of her words settling heavily in my chest. Instead, I moved to sit on the bed across from her, next to Snow.
Samantha, curious as ever, reached toward Snow with a small hand. The dragon perked up, wagging her ball-tipped tail in slow, excited circles before leaning closer to Samantha. Snow nudged her snout gently against the baby's hand, her tail swishing faster as if in playful anticipation.
Samantha giggled, her laughter light and bright in the dim room. Snow began to play, nudging closer and circling Samantha while wagging her tail enthusiastically. She moved close to Samantha's face, her warm breath ruffling the baby's patchy grey hair.
Gold watched with a faint smile, her eyes flickering between Samantha and Snow. "She loves that dragon just as much as you do," she said, her voice carrying a warmth that made the cold outside feel worlds away.
"How did you end up here?" I asked, keeping my voice gentle.
Gold's hand stilled on Samantha's back, her amber eyes flickering with something between hesitation and fear. "My husband worked as a guard for the king," she began, her voice steady but distant. "He was loyal—too loyal. He ran. Deserted."
Her grip on Samantha tightened. "When they found out, they came for us. The men in my family were slaughtered, every single one of them. The women… we were taken." She glanced away, her voice dropping. "We were brought here to serve."
I watched her carefully.
"You're lying," I said, leaning forward.
Her head snapped toward me, her eyes flashing with anger and surprise. "What?"
"You can trust me," I said. "You don't have to lie to me."
Her shoulders tensed. I thought she might argue. Instead, she let out a long sigh, the fight leaving her. "Fine," she said quietly, her voice softer now. "The truth is… I'm just a woman from a small town in eastern Marano. A place called Tererin."
I nodded, waiting for her to continue.
"I was brought before King Milton," she said, her voice growing distant. "He… he said I was beautiful. Choose me to stay by his side. We had a child together." Her voice broke slightly, and she paused, collecting herself. "But when she was born, he said she didn't have a good soul. That her soul wasn't as powerful as one of the others."
I frowned, the words striking me as strange. "Soul?"
She shook her head.
"He never explained it. He just said that she wasn't worthy and banished us. Me and my daughter."
Why'd he wait so long?" I asked.
"He banished us the first time he met the child."
"He wasn't part of her life," I mumbled.
I sat back, her words sinking in. A soul. A powerful soul. The phrase turned over in my mind, dredging up old stories and whispers. And then it hit me like a hammer.
Amelia.
The Jewel of Balance. The Jewel of Maranona.
My chest tightens. Amelia is Samantha's half-sister.
I looked toward Amanda, nestled peacefully in Gold's arms. Her grey hair caught the dim light, and for the first time, I truly noticed her eyes. Blue. The same piercing, deep blue as King Milton's.
A chill ran through me as I leaned closer, studying her features. The resemblance was uncanny. The same sharp cheekbones, the same delicate nose. How had I not seen it before?
She was the spitting image of Amelia.
Except for the hair. Amelia's was golden, bright as the sun. Amanda's was grey—soft and muted, like a storm-clouded sky.
"How'd you end up here?" she asked, her voice quiet but curious.
So, I told her the story.