Death had been cold.

I remembered it-the way my bones shattered when Draco and Ignis threw me from the Sky Spire. Their laughter echoed as I fell, their last words seared into my soul:

"No one will miss a half-breed."

And they were right.

No one avenged me. No one even mourned. My father, Zephyr, bowed his head and accepted the Elders’ ruling: "An accident."

Pathetic.

But death wasn’t the end.

I woke gasping, my small hands clutching a ragged blanket. Sunlight streamed through the cracks of my shabby quarters, the same room I’d slept in before.

I was back.

A child again, weak and unmarked by dragonfire.

My reflection in the water basin showed the same too-round human eyes, the same mousy hair that refused to shimmer like true dragonkin.

"Nyx the Nameless," they called me. "The mistake."

Last time, I had believed them.

This time?

I bared my teeth at the mirror.

...****************...

~~ A few days after the incident~~

At the training hall

Mud splashed under my bare feet as Draco and Ignis cornered me against the wall. Same as before. Same taunts. Same vicious grins.

Last life, I’d cried.

This time, I laughed.

Draco’s silver brows furrowed. "What’s so funny, mutt?"

I wiped imaginary tears from my eyes. "Oh, nothing. Just remembering how you choked during your first flight test."

His face darkened.

Ignis lunged, but I sidestepped; a move I’d learned after he broke my ribs in another life.

"Oho!" I grinned. "Did I strike a nerve? Or are you just mad you’ll never be as strong as your daddy?"

Draco’s punch came next.

I let it land.

Blood bloomed on my lip. Good.

"Uncle Marius!" I screamed, voice drenched in fake tears. "They’re hurting me again!"

Marius stormed in, his glare slicing straight to me. "What now, half-blood?"

I clutched my bleeding mouth. "They attacked me for no reason!"

Draco scoffed. "She insulted our bloodline!"

Marius didn’t even look at him. His hand lashed out, not at Draco, but at me. His grip crushed my wrist. "You dare provoke my sons?"

Last life, I’d cowered.

Now? I met his eyes. "I dare."

His fist swung.

I didn’t flinch.

The blow never came.

Zephyr stood between us, his hand locked around Marius’s wrist. "Enough."

Silence.

Marius yanked free. "She’s a disgrace."

Zephyr’s voice was soft. Deadly. "And you are a coward, striking a child."

For a heartbeat, just for a while, I saw fear in Marius’s eyes.

Then he spat at my feet. "Keep your mongrel leashed, Zephyr."

As they left, Draco smirked back at me. "This isn’t over."

Oh, I knew.

Last life, I’d died helpless.

This time?

I’d burn them all.

...----------------...

Nyx arrives at the library. The library was silent, save for the faint rustle of ancient pages. Nyx moved between the towering shelves, her small fingers tracing the spines of forbidden tomes. The Dragon Clan’s archives were vast, but she knew exactly what she needed.

"The Seal of Suppression," she murmured, pulling out a weathered book bound in black scales. Its title shimmered faintly, as if resisting her touch.

A shadow flickered at the edge of her vision. Draco’s mother, Lady Seraphis, standing at the far end of the hall, her golden eyes narrowed. Nyx didn’t flinch. Instead, she tucked the book beneath her tunic and met the woman’s gaze with a smile too sharp for an eight-year-old.

Seraphis’s lips curled. "Lost, little mongrel?"

"Found, actually," Nyx replied sweetly before slipping away.

Back in her room, Nyx barred the door and spread the book open. The diagrams were familiar; Sylphie had taught her this in her past life. The 147th Master of the 11th Magic Tower had been the only one who saw through the seal placed on her at birth.

"Breaking it takes time," Sylphie had told her in her past life. "But it can be broken. Slowly but surely."

She started her meditation desperately trying to feel her mana. She tried looking deep into her heart, and found all her mana sealed in a tiny space. She tried undoing the seal but nothing happened. Again, she tried but all in vain.

For hours, she sat cross-legged, sweat dripping down her temples as she fought against the invisible chains. Nothing. Not even a flicker.

Nyx exhaled sharply, wiping sweat from her brow as she collapsed onto her thin mattress. Her ribs ached from hours of fruitless effort. The seal hadn’t budged further.

"Enough for today," she muttered, flexing her fingers. The faintest warmth still lingered beneath her skin, but it was useless in a fight. Not yet.

A sharp knock rattled her door.

"Nyx." Her father’s voice, cool and detached. "The family gathers for dinner. You are expected."

She bit back a groan. Family dinners were battlefields.

...******** To be continued ********...

...*******In the dining hall..*********...

The dining room was grand, with a great black table laden full of food. Candles flickered, casting shadows against the walls. Nyx sat in her usual place—off from the head of the table, near the servants' door.

Seated across from her, Draco and Ignis sneered. Lady Seraphis, their mother, sat beside Uncle Marius, her pointed eyes were watchful. At the head of the table, Grand Elder Pyrhus sat in cold silence, his eyes serious.

Nyx's father, Zephyr, ignored them, eating in silence.

"How. surprising," Seraphis said, sipping wine. "Even the half-breed is joining us tonight."

Nyx stabbed a piece of fruit with her knife. "I wouldn't dare to miss it," she replied.

The table grew quiet

...********After a while....********...

Ignis "accidentally" spilled his cup, wine dripping onto Nyx's dress.

"Oops," he smiled.

Last time, she would have said nothing. But

this time, she slapped a drop of wine straight back at him.

"Oops," she grinned.

Ignis stood up, furious, but Uncle Marius snapped, "Sit. Down."

Nyx dabbed at her dress, smothering her grin.

Draco leaned forward, playing nice. "Nyx, why in the world do you waste your time training? You'll never really be a real dragon."

The table grew quiet. Zephyr even stopped eating.

Nyx put down her fork. "You're right. I likely won't."

Draco's face was startled—he hadn't expected her to agree.

Then she went on, "But then, neither will you… if the Elders find out about the humans you sneaked into the west tower."

Draco went white.

"What?" Marius's voice snapped.

Nyx sipped her water, having an innocent look on her face. "Oh. Was that a secret?"

Seraphis's hands clenched the table. "Lies! My son would never—"

"Enough." Grand Elder Pyrhus's voice was thunder. "Draco. Explain."

As Draco staggered, Nyx caught Seraphis's glance—and smiled.

The grand elder demanded that Nyx leave the room. When Nyx had barely made it out of the dining hall the screaming began. She pressed her ear against the cold stone door, her racing heart.

"YOU SHAMED ME IN FRONT OF THE ELDERS!" Seraphis's yell could shatter glass. A loud CRACK echoed out - probably Draco slapped in the face.

"Mother, please—"

"SILENCE!" Another slap. "You have no concept of what you've done. If this gets out—"

And then Uncle Marius's booming voice came in: "That's it. We settle this now."

Nyx had the courage to look through the crack in the door just as Grand Elder Pyrhus gagged over clearing his throat.

"This is a grave situation," the old dragon wheezed. "Interacting with humans is forbidden. If this is true, it might—"

"Oh come OFF it, Pyrhus!" Seraphis flashed, her spotless calm dispelled. "Everyone is aware your grandson brought in firewine last summer! Or shall I have the scribes recite THAT episode?"

Pyrhus's wrinkled face purpled. "That was. unrelated!"

Marius slammed his fist on the table, and the plates rang out. "Enough politics. This is what happened: Nyx lied. End of story."

Pyrhus could protest before Seraphis snapped her fingers. A scribe came over with parchment and ink.

"Let me write the official report," she said demurely. "'Upon thorough investigation, the accusations were found to be baseless. The attention-seeking half-breed Nyx fabricated the tale to—'"

"You can't just—"

Pyrhus started.

"'—to sow discord within the family,'"

Seraphis continued loudly, over him. "'Suggested penalty: extra labor and meager meals for a month.There. Done."

She stamped the paper with the clan seal before anyone could even blink

As the "meeting" broke up, Nyx heard Seraphis mutter at Pyrhus:

"Remember who controls the eastern trade routes, Elder. Your little vineyard would be SO vulnerable to. bandit raids this time of year."

Pyrhus's shoulders fell. ".The case is closed."

...********Back to Nyx's training********...

Night after night, Nyx waited until the castle was still before she would begin her training. She would find herself a lone candle, its flickering flame barely illuminating the pages in her stolen book. The writing was ancient and deceptive, but she read it over and over and over again until she was able to recite every command.

She sat cross-legged on chilly stone, hands pressed against her chest where the seal lay heavy upon her heart. She breathed slowly, imagining threads of flame the width of sparks weaving their way through her veins, searching out the weaknesses of the seal. Some evenings, nothing. On other evenings, a gentle pulsing beneath her fingertips so subtle that she wondered if she imagined it.

She made slow progress, but Nyx did not relent.

...********A few days later********...

The castle buzzed with new that the human king had announced a great feast to celebrate his son's ninth birthday. Invitations stamped with the royal seal were dispatched to every noble house, including the dragon clan's as well.

Nyx listened for it in her small room. The maids ran along the corridors, chatting about silks and jewels, and her cousins Draco and Ignis boasting of what they would do to impress the human court.

Then Aunt Seraphis broke the news, her voice ringing in the great hall:

"The crown prince is heir to the human throne. Draco, you will befriend him. That is not a request."

Nyx, hovering in the background, saw how Draco's sneer wavered. So even he has something to obey.

Preparations began at once. Tailors arrived with bolts of shimmering fabric, and jewelers displayed delicate hairpins and bracelets. Nyx, as usual, was forgotten. Later in the day, a servant tossed a plain, ill-fitting dress onto her bed.

"Wear this. And don’t embarrass the family," the woman sneered before leaving.

Nyx stared at the drab gray fabric and thought, "Like I’d let them make me look pathetic"

That night, she sneaked into the empty east wing, its riches all covered in dust. She went through moth-eaten trunks, and then it was there—a gown of midnight blue, heavily embroidered with silver thread. It was out of fashion, but with some alterations, it would do.

Let them gaze on a half-blood shine.

...*******The day of the banquet*********...

The palace of the human palace's great hall glowed under crystal chandeliers, the air heavy with scent and the murmur of nobles. The walls were covered in silk banners of royal blue, embroidered with the crest of the crown prince.

Nyx noticed that only a few people were actually talking about the crown prince. Instead, the crowd closed around the second prince, a fair-haired child dripping with gems. His mother, the new queen, smiled beside him, her voice echoing around the room.

"Oh, my son has outdone even the royal tutors! Only last week, he mastered three spells at once!"

No one spoke up of how the spells were children's tricks. No one dared.

Across from him, the crown prince sat patiently. He wore nice clothes, but they were loose on his thin frame, as if nobody had bothered to have it tailored. His dark eyes were peaceful, but Nyx sensed the peace of a person who had mastered to hide.

Nyx edged out of the crushing ballroom, searching for air in the moonlit gardens. The roses there were in full flower, their perfume thick and sweet.

She hadn't noticed him coming.

"You are the dragon lord's daughter."

Nyx turned. The crown prince was a few paces back, his hands folded behind his back. Close up, he appeared even younger—and older, in a manner no child should.

"And you’re the birthday prince," she said lightly. "Though your brother seems to be enjoying it more."

A flicker of something crossed his face—amusement? Resignation?

"Stepmother says celebrations are for those who deserve them."

The words were simple, but Nyx felt the weight behind them. A mother’s love, conditional. She knew that game well.

They walked silently for a few moments, the music fading into the distance behind them. Nyx watched him out of the corner of her eye.

He's too quiet for a nine-year-old.

And she caught sight of the minute silver marks on his wrists—the kind left by binding magic.

Her stomach twisted.

Back in her previous life, Sylphie had mentioned her disciple, but only once and in passing: "A boy who knows too much and says too little."

Now Nyx wondered how much he had endured—and how much he might know about her.

A sharp voice cut through the darkness.

"Your Highness! There you are!" A servant came running over to them, gasping. "The queen requests your presence for the cake-cutting!"

The mask slipped back into place for the prince. "Of course."

But he turned back before he went away. "You should go, Lady Nyx. The sweets are. excessive."

His tone was courteous, but his eyes warned.

Danger ahead.

Nyx smiled. "Wouldn't miss it."

...********To be continued********...

The banquet hall shone like a thousand candles as the crown prince returned from the gardens, his expression unreadable. The enormous birthday cake was positioned in the center of the room, draped with blue candy flowers and nine waltzing candles.

"Make a wish, Your Highness," the queen spoke with excitement, though her grip on her own son's shoulder was tight enough to whiten her knuckles.

The prince cut through the cake and guests cheered.

The king waved for the musicians to play.

"Let the dance begin!"

Nyx stood by the pillars, watching nobles chatting in a cloud of silk and jewels. She wasn't going in, until a sneer she knew came ringing behind her.

"What's wrong, half-blood?" Draco taunted, dancing with a human countess in his arms.

"No one to dance with a dragon without flame?"

Before Nyx could speak, a gentle voice pierced the crowd.

"I believe this dance is mine." The crown prince came near her, his gloved hand extended in black velvet.

Nyx was hesitant, but the prince's gaze was insistent. So she gave in.

As she slipped her hand into his, whispers erupted down the hall.

"You’re making a scene," Nyx muttered as they got into position.

"I’m making a point," he replied softly, guiding her into the waltz.

For a few fleeting moments, they moved in perfect sync—until a sharp clap shattered the music.

"How charming." The queen stood at the edge of the dance floor, her smile razor-thin. "But surely my stepson hasn’t forgotten his duty?"

She gestured toward a line of waiting noble maidens. "The next dance is Lady Estelle's."

The prince's fingers clenched, just for a second before he let go of Nyx's hands.

"Of course," he said stiffly. As he bowed to Nyx, his whispered so that only she could hear it, "The east garden. Midnight."

Then he was gone, lost to the queen's will.

The magnificent ball had turned into a drunken revelry by the stroke of midnight. Nobles staggered with goblets clutched in their hands, their laughter slurred and their steps unsteady.

The queen was long gone into her room, and her courtiers were left abandoned.

Nyx slipped away unnoticed, quiet on the marble floors as she moved through to the east garden. The air was cool, the scent of night-blooming roses and jasmine was thick in the air. Moonlight cast silver light on the stone paths, and long shadows layed across the hedges.

There, beneath a tall willow tree, was the crown prince.

He spun around as she approached, his dark eyes gleaming with the soft light of far-off torches. "You came."

Nyx crossed her arms. "You owe me an explanation."

The prince drew a breath, his usual controlled breath wavering just slightly. "I didn't bring you here to play games."

He opened his coat and drew out a thin, leather-bound book, its pages a bright yellow with age.

"This belonged to my late mother," he whispered. "She wrote about you."

Nyx froze. "What?"

He flipped the book open to a crumpled page. The handwriting was lovely but hasty, as if written in haste.

"The children of Zephyr and Liora will bear a seal not of weakness, but of protection. The fire is there—just hidden."

Nyx's breath froze. "Liora?" That was the name her mother had not been given, and had never been spoken by any member of the dragon clan.

The prince did not flinch. "Your mother and mine were friends. And whatever was done to you at birth… it wasn't just Seraphis's doing."

A rustling was heard in the hedges.

Nyx turned, but it was only a servant, his eyes darting wildly.

"Y-Your Highness," he stuttered. "The queen—she's for you."

The prince's jaw muscle clenched. "Tell her I'll be there soon."

The servant hesitated, then bowed and ran.

Nyx swung around to the prince. "Are you afraid of her?"

"I'm just not a fool," he said unemotionally. "And neither are you."

He banged the journal into her hands. "Take it. And next time we meet. you'd better have answers."

...****************...

The feast was done, and Nyx returned to her cold, lonely room inside the dragon fortress. The journal hidden beneath her Cloak. Assured that she would not be disturbed, she lit a single candle and opened the battered leather cover.

The pages smelled faintly of lavender and old paper. The writing was lovely, curving, the handwriting of a queen when she had no reason to rush.

"Zephyr brought me today, his child in his arms. The child is beautiful, her mother's fire already burning in her eyes. But Seraphis has convinced the elders the child is weak. They are going to seal her dragon heart next moon.

Nyx's hands trembled. "Liora never would have allowed that to happen. But Liora is not present, and Zephyr is bound by their laws. So we acted this evening. The seal they placed upon her will not silence her power but will keep it hidden. At the proper moment, the flame will ignite."

A dying flower fell from the pages, a blue winter rose, the symbol of the human royal dynasty.

Nyx flipped the page, her heart pounding in her ears.

"I don't know if I will survive to see Nyx become a woman. I do not have much time, the court is against me and my son is too young to protect himself. But I have instructed Sylphie. When the time arises, she will—"

The remainder was blurred, as if tears had fallen on the ink.

Nyx sat back, the truth pressing down on her like a heavy blanket.

Her mother had not been weak. Her seal was not a curse, but a shield. And the prince's mother, the true queen, had given her life to protect them both.

A queer warmth spread in Nyx's chest. Not pain but comprehension.

The seal inside her shuddered. For the first time in her existence, Nyx made sense. She was not helpless. She had been hidden.

...****************...

For weeks, Nyx practiced in secret

Every night, once the fortress was in slumber, she sneaked into the abandoned east wing, and among the dusty reek of lost magic, she practiced, not to break the seal, but to understand it.

"The fire is hidden, not gone," she whispered to herself, breathing in as a spark of heat flared beneath her rib cage.

Progress was slow. Some nights, all she managed to get was a wisp of smoke. Others, her fingers glowed gently before the warmth dwindled. But it was something.

Things were no different during the day. Draco and Ignis continued to corner her into the training yard, their taunts as vicious as ever.

"See the half-blood," Draco snarled one morning, kicking mud onto her boots. "Still pretending she's here?"

Nyx wiped away the dirt on her cheeks and said nothing. She might have fought back, might have let the fires in her heart burn. But not yet.

Then, one evening, a royal messenger arrived at the dragon fortress. Nyx was summoned to the great hall, where her uncle Marius scowled, with a cream-colored parchment in his hand.

"It looks as though the human court has summoned your presence," he spat, sneering, as if he was spewing the words out. "Some trash about honoring your mother's memory."

He tossed the letter on the ground. Nyx knelt to retrieve it. The wax seal was unmistakable—the royal crest, which was stamped in deep blue.

"His Majesty the crown prince asks the pleasure of Lady Nyx to the Palace of Dawn, in memory of the late Queen Liora's friendship with the crown."

...********To be continued..********...