Chapter 180: THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING NEW
Chapter 180: THE BEGINNING OF SOMETHING NEW
Three days had passed since that first night.
The snow in Northreach never truly ceased, yet this time, something felt different. The white flakes falling from the sky were thinner, lighter. In the castle gardens, the Snow Chrysanthemums began to peek their petals through the melting drifts.
Inside the grand dining hall, breakfast proceeded as usual. The aroma of warm bread and honey tea filled the air. But the atmosphere was noticeably warmer, more intimate.
Rianor and Elara sat side by side. Nothing needed to be explained; everyone could see it in the way they looked at each other—in the way Rianor subconsciously brushed Elara’s hand while reaching for the bread, and the way a soft smile played on Elara’s lips whenever her husband spoke.
Roland chewed his bread casually, his eyes darting from Rianor to Elara, then back to Rianor. A mischievous smirk played on his lips.
"So," he began, unable to hide his teasing tone. "How does it feel to be a husband? Is it heavier than being a Head of Research?"
Rianor gave him a flat look. "Would you like to know how it feels?"
"Not yet." Roland shrugged. "I haven’t reached that stage. But I am curious."
"You’ll know when you get there."
"When?"
Rianor smiled thinly. "That depends on Seraphina."
Roland stopped chewing. Raveena looked down, stifling a laugh, while Riven chuckled. Raphael, who was cutting into a piece of rendang on his plate, looked up with a half-cynical expression.
"Brother Roland," he said, his voice deadpan. "Why so quiet?"
Roland stared at his youngest brother. "Eat."
"I am eating." Raphael took a bite of the savory meat before adding, "I’m just curious, when will you catch up? Since Seraphina has already left for home, right?"
Roland didn’t answer. He simply began cutting his bread with unnecessary aggression.
Raphael allowed himself a small smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Aurelia, who had been silent until now, finally chimed in. "Roland, stop teasing your brother."
"I’m not the one teasing, Mother." Roland raised his hands in mock surrender. "They’re the ones ganging up on me."
"You started it," Rianor reminded him.
"I only asked a question."
"And now you’ve been served a taste of your own medicine."
Roland let out a dramatic sigh. "This is what they call a vendetta."
Aurelia chuckled softly but added nothing more. At the end of the table, Lucian simply sipped his warm tea in silence. No comments, no interventions—only a faint, barely perceptible smile at the corner of his mouth.
In the castle courtyard, the atmosphere was quite different.
Three hundred and twenty-eight dragons were gathered in their human forms. Some were already clad in traveling cloaks, while others stood with arms crossed, gazing at the fortress that had been their temporary home for months.
Zoldrak stood at the front of the line. His rugged, battle-scarred face seemed slightly softer today. He stood before Lucian and bowed his head.
"Duke Lucian," he said, his voice deep and resonant. "Our duty in Northreach is complete. The Emperor calls us home."
Lucian nodded. "Thank you for your aid, Zoldrak. Northreach will never forget what you have done for us."
"We were merely fulfilling our duty," Zoldrak replied. "Your son, Roland, was quite persuasive in establishing this alliance."
He extended his hand, and Lucian shook it. There were no exaggerated words or grand promises—just a handshake between two warriors who had stood together on the battlefield.
Rianor stood beside his father. Zoldrak turned toward him and offered a nod of respect.
"You are a formidable leader, Rianor Sudrath. Draconia will remember your name."
Rianor returned the nod. "Thank you. May your journey home be safe."
On the other side of the courtyard, Roland and Seraphina stood slightly apart from the crowd. Not too far, but enough to grant them a moment of privacy.
Seraphina gazed at Roland. Her crimson eyes and silver hair fluttered in the cold northern wind.
"I’m leaving," she said.
"I know."
"You have nothing to say?"
Roland smiled. "What should I say? ’Don’t go’?"
Seraphina raised an eyebrow. "Would you forbid me?"
"I cannot forbid the Crown Princess of Draconia."
"And if I weren’t the Crown Princess?"
Roland looked at her. His smirk faded, replaced by something far more solemn. "Even if you weren’t, I still couldn’t forbid you. You are a dragon. I am a human. If you wish to fly, I have no wings to chase you."
Seraphina fell silent. Then, she let out a small laugh. "I didn’t know you could be such a romantic."
"I’m not being romantic. I’m being honest."
"It’s the same thing."
Roland didn’t respond. He simply held out his hand. Seraphina stared at it for a moment before grasping it. Their fingers interlaced.
"I will return," Seraphina promised.
"I know."
"Don’t die before I get back."
Roland grinned. "I’ll do my best."
Seraphina released his hand. She took a step back, then turned away. Her body began to shift—silver scales shimmered across her skin, wings unfurled, and her form expanded within seconds.
The dragon flapped her wings once, then soared into the sky. Behind her, three hundred and twenty-seven other dragons followed suit.
Roland stood his ground, staring toward the east until the procession vanished into the horizon.
Rianor appeared at his side. "Quietly suffering, are we?"
Roland didn’t look at him. "Shut up."
"So, when’s the wedding?"
"Shut up."
Rianor chuckled softly, leaving his brother standing like a statue.
That afternoon, Rianor pushed Elara’s wheelchair toward the Alpha Building.
The building hadn’t changed since their last visit. It was still the same—sturdy stone walls, large windows looking out toward the distant factories, and a faded wooden sign hanging over the door.
But something had changed. This time, Elara was no longer just a research partner who happened to be staying. She was family. Rianor’s wife. And this place... felt like home.
Rianor opened the door. Inside, Arvid was hunched over his desk, surrounded by stacks of blueprints and notebooks. His black hair was a mess, and his eyes were bloodshot as usual.
He looked up, saw Rianor, and then saw Elara. His expression didn’t shift, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze.
"You’re back," he said.
"Yeah, I’m back," Rianor replied.
Arvid nodded. "Congratulations on the marriage."
"Thank you."
"Now," Arvid stood up, grabbing a roll of blueprints from the table. "Before you get too swept up in your happiness, look at this."
Rianor took the scroll and unfurled it. His eyes scanned the lines and figures drawn there. "A Maglev train?"
"Rumina has a crazy idea," Arvid said. "She wants this rail line to reach all the way to The Emerald Union."
Elara frowned. "The Emerald Union? That’s far. It’s mostly dense riverlands."
"That’s the problem." Arvid pointed to the sketch. "To get there, the train has to cross vast watersheds. You can’t lay rails on water. We need bridges, but the length required is absurd."
Rianor studied the blueprints for a long time. Fian and Mail, standing behind Arvid, only smiled nervously, not daring to speak.
"This will take time," Rianor finally said.
"That’s what I told Rumina," Arvid replied. "But she’s stubborn."
Elara touched Rianor’s arm. "Any ideas?"
Rianor shook his head. "None yet. But this could be a massive project. If we succeed..."
"We could open a direct trade route to The Emerald Union," Elara finished his sentence. "Without going through the central kingdom."
Rianor looked at his wife. "You catch on quick."
"I was your research partner, after all."
Arvid, listening to the exchange, finally spoke. "So, are you taking this on?"
Rianor rolled up the blueprint. "I’ll think about it. There’s something else more urgent."
Arvid raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"The Academy."
The atmosphere in the room shifted. Fian and Mail exchanged looks. Arvid stared at Rianor with an unreadable expression.
"An Academy?" Arvid repeated.
"Northreach has no schools," Rianor said. "If the children here want to learn, they have to go to Sol-Regis. Those are academies for magic and knights. They don’t teach science. They don’t teach technology. They don’t teach anything we actually need."
Elara nodded in agreement. "We need a generation that understands machines, understands physics, and understands how this world actually works. Not just swords and spells."
Arvid went quiet, then leaned back in his chair. "A good idea. But where? Who will teach? What are the majors? How about the curriculum?"
Rianor offered a thin smile. "That’s what I’m currently figuring out."
Mail, who had been silent, finally gathered the courage to speak. "Y-you mean, Lord Rianor hasn’t decided on a location yet?"
"Not yet," Rianor said. "That’s why I’m asking for your input."
Fian nearly choked. Mail froze. Arvid simply shook his head.
Elara chuckled. "Don’t scare them like that."
"I’m not scaring them. I’m asking for their opinion."
"That’s exactly why they’re scared."
Arvid stood up. "If you’re serious, we need time. We can’t just build this haphazardly. The curriculum must be designed. Teachers must be trained. A strategic location must be chosen."
"Agreed," Rianor said. "But at the very least, we start now. Step by step."
Night fell. Rianor and Elara strolled through the castle gardens.
Snow still blanketed the ground, but it wasn’t as thick as weeks prior. Snow Chrysanthemums were blooming among the rocks, their blue-white petals contrasting with the damp earth.
"So," Elara began, "about the academy."
"Hmm?"
"Where is it going to be?"
Rianor pushed her wheelchair slowly. "I don’t know yet. Iron Hearth is already crowded. But if it’s too far, the children will struggle to get there."
"There’s vacant land near the east gate."
"Who does it belong to?"
Elara smiled. "You’re the son of the Duke of Northreach. That land belongs to your father."
Rianor stopped. He looked at his wife. "Are you serious?"
"Why not? It’s near the residential areas, close to the factories, and still spacious enough for a campus."
Rianor didn’t answer immediately. He just looked at Elara, then smiled.
"You’re brilliant," he said.
Elara laughed. "I just pointed out a vacant lot. It’s hardly a brilliant idea."
"It is a brilliant idea."
"Only because you didn’t think of it."
Rianor sighed. "Perhaps."
They both fell silent. The wind blew softly, carrying the scent of the blooming Snow Chrysanthemums. In the distance, the lights of Iron Hearth glowed brightly.
Elara took Rianor’s hand. "I never imagined this."
"Imagined what?"
"This." She looked around. "A warm castle. A family that cares. A husband who... isn’t too annoying."
Rianor looked at her. "Not too annoying?"
"Sometimes."
"Sometimes?"
"Yes." Elara smiled. "But most of the time, you’re not."
Rianor didn’t respond with words. He simply squeezed his wife’s hand.
In the distance, the city lights continued to burn. In the castle garden, two people who once had nothing now held each other tightly.
For the first time, Elara felt that happiness wasn’t just a dream.
In his room, Roland sat on the edge of his bed.
He wasn’t reading. He wasn’t looking out the window. He was doing nothing at all. Just sitting.
His eyes were hollow, staring at the wall in front of him.
In his mind, the image of Seraphina flying away was etched deep. Her face when she said, "I will return." Her hand as she gripped his before letting go.
Roland sighed. He lay back, staring at the dark ceiling.
"I will return," he whispered to himself.
He didn’t know when. But he believed her.
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