Untitled Part 1: Icy Memories

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In the heart of Shadowvale, the Echo Tower soared into the sky like a sharp sword plunged deep into the earth. A storm was approaching, but the tower remained silent, as if it knew all the secrets.

Aria stood at the window at the top of the tower, gazing into the distance. She lightly traced the raindrops on the glass, her heart filled with conflict. Though she had lived here for sixteen years, this was her only home. Thinking of King Magnus, she felt a mix of anger and helplessness. She raised her left hand, the dense scales glinting coldly in the rain, as if reminding her of her fate. Each scale seemed to whisper, reminding her that the shackles of destiny could not be escaped.

A piercing scream broke through the dark sky, followed by a red lightning bolt that illuminated the northern horizon. It was the warning of the prophecy—the red lightning would bring an unchangeable wheel of fate. Aria's heartbeat quickened; she sensed an irresistible force approaching. A chill swept over her, as if the tower itself was warning her of an ominous future. She felt a wave of powerlessness, unaware that she was about to be swept into a storm she could not control.

In the hall of the palace, King Magnus sat on his throne, his cold gaze sweeping across the room. He gripped the armrests tightly, waiting for some sign. His advisors stood beside him, their faces grim, as if they too sensed the coming of the red lightning. Despite his calm exterior, his inner turmoil was like a raging sea, unable to be stilled.

"Hawk, it's time for you to fulfill your promise," King Magnus said coldly, his voice filled with icy determination.

"Yes, Your Majesty," replied Hawk, his most trusted advisor, a flicker of worry in his eyes. He understood the king's inner pain but could only silently comply.

"Aria must be kept away; the prophecy must not come true," King Magnus's voice was like a cold blade, cutting through the silence of the hall. His heart was full of conflict and anger, knowing that his decision was unfair, but he had no choice. Every time he thought of Aria, he felt a stabbing pain, but duty and fear forced him to make this decision. Even though she was his daughter, he could not escape this burden.

Meanwhile, Aria finished her day's work and placed the last messenger bird into a golden birdcage. She stood gloomily at the top of the tower, gazing at the brightly lit royal castle on the hillside—a place someone as ordinary as her could only dream of—the North's most impregnable Sovereign Bastion. Her heart was filled with both longing and despair; she yearned for freedom, yet knew her fate had long been sealed.

Now, she felt like a bird trapped in a cage, unable to escape no matter how hard she struggled. The lightning before her foretold the impending change, and a flame of anger rose in her heart. Perhaps she was not just a plaything of fate. She could choose her own path. No matter how unknown the future was, she would walk it with strength.

Aria sighed softly.

Just then, a mournful cawing crow landed on the windowsill, fluffing its feathers and shaking off the raindrops. Its black eyes swiveled around, hopping closer to Aria.

"Little one, are you lost?"

As Aria attempted to touch it, the crow pecked fiercely.

A searing pain shot through her, causing Aria to bite her lip as she gently stroked the raised scale.

The accursed crow flew away.

Yet, beneath Aria's curled lashes lay an endless sense of loss.

Accompanied by the sound of hoofbeats, a double-horse carriage emerged through the gray drizzle from the dark alley. Finally, it halted at the base of the tower.

A limping boy descended from the carriage, taking the umbrella handed to him by the coachman, but before he could open it, the carriage had already departed.

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