Meanwhile in the Magic Tower
The tower was quiet—eerily so, as if holding its breath.
Inside one of its upper chambers, Icarus leaned against the cold wall, his hand pressed to his head as a piercing sensation flared through his mind.
A memory.
But not his.
A girl.She stood in front of a mirror, brushing her dark hair, eyes tired but soft—so very human. No glow. No aura. Just... ordinary. Then, in her hand, a sleek device shimmered to life. She tapped something—something familiar—and a screen lit up with the title:"Survive Till Dawn."
Icarus's breath hitched.
She tapped again.A face appeared on the screen—Aria's face.But not in this world. Not like this.
Icarus stumbled back, the image slicing through his sanity."Who is she...?" he whispered, gripping his chest."Why did I see that—why now?"
The memory had struck him the moment he knocked Aria out to save her from herself. It wasn't from her past in this realm. No. It was from somewhere far beyond. Something... real.
But just as he tried to grasp it, a sharp snap rang through his mind. Something—or someone—was tearing the memory away, like claws ripping through a painting.
In Another Realm
A glass of wine shattered against the obsidian floor.
"How the heaven did he access Aria's memory?!" Faith roared, pacing the star-lit room of divine systems. His hands flew across a glowing console as he typed in furious command lines.
{Erase the memory of Icarus. Authorized by: GF.}
The system blinked.
{Partial deletion failed. Residual memory fragments remain.}
"SUGAR!" Faith hissed, slamming his fist down. "He wasn't supposed to see that!"
From across the room, the young god floated lazily upside down, spinning a constellation like a toy.
"Haaa... this is going to be fun," Y.G. hummed, grinning as stars swirled between his fingers.
Faith turned with a glare. "This is all your fault."
YG just winked.
Garden Secrets
The next day, training turned brutal.
The sword grew heavier with each swing. Her body ached—deep bruises forming under her skin, hands split open with fresh wounds—but Aria didn't stop. Couldn't stop. The North didn't let weakness breathe.
And perhaps… she didn't want to be weak anymore.
Later that afternoon, the sunbathed the garden in golden warmth as Aria sat with Theodore, sipping tea beneath a flowering magnolia tree. Her fingers trembled slightly from fatigue, but the scent of chamomile helped her settle.
Just as she lifted her cup, Abigel entered, his steps firm and expression unreadable.
"Your Grace," he bowed formally. "I have the morning reports."
"Hmm…" Theo raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you speak normally, Abigel? It's just us."
A beat passed before Abigel straightened."Yes, Father."
Aria choked.
She coughed violently, nearly dropping her cup as her wide eyes darted between the two men.
"Uncle… You're not married… right?" she sputtered.
Theodore burst into laughter, a rare, warm sound that seemed to melt the cold air around him. Though he was in his early thirties, his face was ageless—sharp, composed, untouched by time or softness.
"I'm not," he said, lips twitching.
Her confusion deepened. "But…?"
"He's my adopted son," Theodore explained, placing a hand on Abigel's shoulder. "And he will be the next heir to the North."
Aria stared, dumbfounded.What kind of twist is this?
Not once in any royal meeting, in any whispered court rumour, had she heard of this. Even the Emperor never mentioned an heir from the North.
"Uncle… why didn't you tell me before?" Aria asked, her voice quieter now.
Theodore looked away, hands folding behind his back, the weight of unspoken years resting on his shoulders. "It wasn't the time yet, Aria. But know this—he is my son, and that will never change."
She watched him, the man who once walked palace halls as a prince with the world at his feet… who gave up thrones and titles for the cold silence of the North.Now, he had someone. He had family.
Maybe the North didn't change him.Maybe… it finally healed him.
"I know you have questions," he added gently. "I promise, I'll tell you everything—when the time is right."
With that, he turned, walking down the garden path with his usual quiet strength, shadows of the past clinging to his footsteps.
Aria's gaze shifted to Abigel, who now stood beside her. The same boy who hurled cruel words in training… who challenged her power, her patience, her pride.
But now, with no soldiers watching, no swords raised—he looked... different.
"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, eyes not meeting hers. "I shouldn't have triggered you like that during training."
Aria blinked.
His voice was softer now, stripped of pride. Almost... guilty.
She smiled faintly, brushing a stray lock behind her ear."It's alright," she replied. "I needed that."