5 : The Light From The East

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*The Light from the East*

Beyond the walls of the Grand Hall, far across the shimmering courtyards and ancient towers, the Kingdom of Caelora stretched out like a living painting—divided neatly into four grand sections.

The *North*, known for its steel and stone, bred warriors and builders.

The *South*, with its golden fields, birthed merchants and healers.

The *West*, lush with rivers and song, thrived with scholars and artists.

And the *East*…

The *East* was ruled by silence, snow, and something older than time.

A single mountain stood there—*Mount Veshtar*, cloaked in eternal winter. It never thawed. It never spoke. But it *watched*. And today, it blinked.

High above, a flicker of pale blue light flashed from the snowy peak.

Inside the Grand Hall, Mina—Elara—gasped.

Something *moved* in her chest. A pulse. A pull. Like ice crawling through her veins, cold but not painful—*alive*.

Before she could say a word, her body jerked upright.

Gasps echoed.

A hum vibrated through the hall, low and ancient.Light—*blue light*—burst from beneath her feet, lifting her gently into the air. Her dress fluttered like wings around her as frost spiraled upward, wrapping her in ribbons of snowflakes and wind.

Magic rippled outward.

A shockwave of cold air swept through the hall, silencing even the murmurs.

Then, silence.

Her body slowly lowered to the ground, feet touching the marble floor with a soft *click*. Her hands dropped to her sides. Her hair, slightly wind-tossed, shimmered with a faint silver-blue tint.

And her eyes…

Her eyes had turned *deep dark blue*—like the mountain sky before a storm.

Nyra's smile was calm, almost knowing.

The queen stood frozen.

And no one—not even Elara's father—breathed.

Elara blinked once.

Then she whispered to herself, almost dazed,

"…I guess laying low is off the table."

From the high dais, Queen Liora stared, her hands clenched tightly around the edges of her throne. The power she had just witnessed was not of her realm—not of her planning.

It was ancient.

Raw.

Uncontrolled.

And it did not answer to her.

Beside her, Nyra stood calm, her silver braid unmoving despite the magic still thick in the air. She didn't look surprised—just… expectant.

The queen turned slowly toward her, voice sharp and low. "What is this?"

Nyra didn't glance away from Elara. "The mountain has chosen."

"She's half-blood. She was not meant to awaken. That magic doesn't belong to my line."

"That magic belongs to something older than your line," Nyra replied, coolly. "Elara is not an ordinary girl. She never was."

Liora's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

Nyra turned then, her gaze sharp. "You may have ignored her existence, but her father knew. He was told the truth. Elara was born under a rare moon, during a silent storm, in a time when dragonice touched the land."

The queen went rigid. "Dragonice?"

Nyra nodded. "Her birth was not coincidence. Her mother's blood runs deeper than royal—and her fate, far more dangerous."A silence settled between them, thick with unspoken truths.

The queen's eyes darkened. "And what happens now?"

Nyra's lips curved faintly.

"That, Your Majesty… is up to Elara."

The silence in the Grand Hall shattered into murmurs.

Eyes scanned the center of the floor.

But Elara was *gone*.

"Where is she?" one of the nobles whispered.

"She just disappeared—!"

"No, she ran," Nyra murmured, a trace of amusement in her voice.

The queen turned sharply. "Find her. Now."

But Elara was already gone, dress fluttering behind her as she sprinted through the side corridors of the palace. She didn't wait for questions. She didn't want stares. Her heartbeat pounded louder than her footsteps.

She had no idea where her feet were taking her until she saw him—her father.

He wasn't heading toward her, or the queen, or even Nyra.

He was sneaking away.

"Coward," she hissed, her voice still breathless.

She moved faster, cut him off at the corner near the glass courtyard.

He froze.

"Elara—"

"Don't you Elara me," she snapped, grabbing his robe. "You knew. You knew something like this would happen, didn't you?! What was that back there?! That power, that light—that *wasn't* me!"

His expression faltered. "I didn't think it would awaken so soon—"

"So it's true."She let go of his robe, stepping back. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath—and her thoughts.

"I want answers," she said, voice shaking. "All of them. From the beginning."

He sighed, rubbing his temples like a man who'd hoped this moment would never come.

"Elara… it's time you knew the truth,Her father glanced around the empty hallway, then gently pulled Elara toward a quiet alcove. His shoulders slumped with the weight of a truth he could no longer hide.

"I never wanted you to carry this burden alone," he said quietly. "Your mother… she was the last living descendant of the *Ice Dragon Clan*. They lived beyond Mount Veshtar—in the East—where winter never ends."

Elara's breath hitched. That name—it tugged something from her memory.

She blinked. "The Ice Dragons... the ancient protectors of the royal bloodline. I remember reading something in the story about them. They were said to guard the royal heirs, weren't they?"

Her father nodded solemnly. "They did. Until one of the past queens grew greedy. She tried to force a union with a dragonborn son. She believed their child would be a supreme heir—one with dragon blood in royal veins. But the Ice Dragons refused. They vanished into hiding."

Elara's eyes widened. "And you—You married one."

He smiled faintly. "I didn't know who she truly was… not at first. But when you were born—during that silent storm—I saw what you carried. And I knew I had to keep you hidden. Especially from her."

"The queen," Elara whispered, dread filling her chest.

"Yes."

Before she could say another word, the sound of armored footsteps echoed down the hall.

Too late.

Three royal guards appeared from the corridor, eyes hard.

"Elara of House Vire, and Lord Asen," one barked. "You are to come with us. By order of the queen."

Her father stepped forward instinctively. "She's done nothing wrong—"

But the guards had already moved. They grabbed both of them firmly, escorting them back toward the Grand Hall.

Inside, the queen stood tall at the center, her face a mask of royal fury. The hall had been cleared—nobles dismissed, daughters escorted out. OnNyra, a few high-ranking nobles, and a cluster of royal guards remained.

Queen Liora's gaze snapped to Elara.

"So. The dragonblood lives."

She stepped down from the dais slowly.

"And you thought you could hide that from me?"

Lord Asen and Elara look at each other....