A biting cold wind cut not only through the skin but all the way to the bones, as if trying to freeze the warm blood flowing within. Every breath sliced like a knife. Noa bit his tongue, swallowing the pain inside. One wrong step and he would fall into the black abyss, his body lost forever beneath the snow.
Rion's hand felt heavier than usual on his shoulder. It wasn't a gesture of protection, but a warning.
Noa looked at him in surprise and asked,
"Why aren't we flying?"
"Flying is forbidden," Rion replied wearily.
In the narrow gorge, a massive black iron gate appeared — buried under a thousand years of dust and ice. It almost seemed alive, yet opening it would require far more than an ordinary key.
When Noa let a drop of his blood fall onto the runes, the entire world seemed to freeze for a single second. Then… nothing. The gate remained cold and indifferent, as if his blood were not enough — or not pure enough.
At that moment, something inside Noa shattered.
Noa looked at Rion.
"Did it… reject me?"
Rion's eyes widened, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"The gate once accepted me, even though I am only half high dragon."
Noa stared at his bleeding hand, eyes half-closed.
"Is my blood not pure…?"
Rion turned toward the gate.
"It accepted me before… Something is wrong here."
He bit into his palm and smeared his blood across the runes.
A bright crimson light flashed through the mountains. With a deep, grinding groan, the gate slowly opened.
Noa stared at the opened gateway, then glanced at Rion. He squeezed his hand and followed him through.
They stepped inside. The walls were adorned with intricate reliefs. The air was damp and freezing, and the sound of falling snowflakes whispered like guidance to another world.
"Noa, stay back!" Rion hissed. The sound of grinding stone echoed. He pulled Noa back just in time. One more step and Noa would have fallen into the depths below.
Rion raised his hand, palm facing upward. A small flame appeared — weak, yet warm enough to pierce the darkness. They moved forward slowly, Noa's eyes fixed on the fire.
At the end of the passage, a glowing circle appeared. The light seemed to come from nowhere; the surrounding darkness only grew deeper in contrast.
"This… is a teleportation gate," Rion said, his voice steady.
"Yes," Noa replied, excitement audible in his tone. "Let's activate it."
Rion stepped onto the circle and knelt. He pressed both palms onto the rune patterns. His eyes burned with concentration, his heart filled with magical energy.
Power flowed from his hands. What began as a faint glow steadily intensified, filling the circle with blue-white light. The radiance shot upward, shattering the darkness.
Noa joined him, placing his hands beside Rion's. Courage and trust intertwined. The light enveloped them — and suddenly became blindingly bright.
In an instant, the world changed.
Noa opened his eyes.
Narrow streets and tall walls drew him in — he stood in the heart of the capital of the Nuxtar Empire, the homeland where he had once lived as a prince. Every wall and every street awakened old memories: crumbling carvings, faded inscriptions, dust-covered doors… yet the city still retained its fading grandeur.
Rion stood beside him. His gaze was cold and alert, but deep within shone a quiet warmth and reliability. Noa looked at him — his eyes reflecting wonder, excitement, and a touch of exhaustion.
"This was my first time traveling through a teleportation gate," he said softly, almost to himself.
"I've passed through many times," Rion replied.
Noa looked around, then turned back to him.
"My head is spinning…"
"You'll get used to it," Rion said with a faint smile, placing a hand on Noa's shoulder. "I've gone through these gates many times. They're never gentle."
Noa rested his hands on his knees and looked at Rion.
"Just as expected from you."
Rion nodded slightly.
"Perhaps… yes."
Noa took a deep breath, gazed at the city once more, then turned to Rion.
"We need to change our clothes. You have crystals or gold, right?"
"Yes," Rion answered. "Five gold coins, two mid-grade crystals, and twenty silver pieces."
Without altering or shortening anything, they slipped into a shaded alley for a short rest before heading to a small shop.
They changed their clothes: Noa put on light, flexible protective garments beneath a cloak; Rion donned a thick leather jacket and sturdy gloves. In this ancient city, every movement was watched — a single mistake could be fatal.
Rion looked into Noa's eyes.
"Are you ready?" he asked gently yet firmly.
Noa nodded. With every step, trust and harmony bound them closer together.