Three months later…
Inside the divine sanctuary, time seemed to flow like honey—thick, sweet, and slow. The space, which Ice had reconstructed with the delicate precision of a master architect, was a cathedral of frost. The Great Tree stood at the center, its crystalline leaves chiming like silver bells in a wind that didn't exist. Every inch of the cavern sparkled with the residual mana of the "Authority of Coldness" that Lucian had spent the last ninety days struggling to master.
"Are you ready for your new path?! Your new adventure?! Because I'm excited! Haha!"
The voice belonged to Still. The white dragon was currently spiraling through the air, her scales catching the light of the blue crystals above and refracting them into a thousand tiny rainbows. After three months, her energy remained boundless, a stark contrast to the quiet, focused young man standing by the tree.
Lucian was no longer the ragged survivor who had stumbled into this cave. His frame had filled out with lean, functional muscle, and his eyes held a clarity that only comes from staring into the abyss of one's own soul and coming back stronger. He was busy folding the clothes Ice had manifested for him—garments woven from enchanted fibers that felt like silk but held the strength of armor.
He paused, looking up at the dragon. A genuine, soft smile touched his lips—a rare sight for a boy who had spent three years talking only to shadows. "You know, Still… you're more excited than I am. You've been vibrating since sunrise."
"Of course I am!" Still landed with a heavy thud, her tail wagging like a puppy's, nearly knocking over Lucian's suitcase. "This is it! What you've always dreamed of—to travel, to see the cities, to walk the paths your parents once walked! I've spent centuries watching the same frost grow on the same rocks. If I could, I'd be out there with you, causing trouble and eating every delicacy in the human realms! But… I can't. Sigh…"
Lucian's smile faded, replaced by a look of concern. He reached out, resting a hand on the dragon's cold, smooth snout. "Why not? You're powerful. Surely you could take a human form or hide in the shadows?"
Before Still could answer, a hand—pale, elegant, and radiating a comforting chill—rested on Lucian's head. He didn't need to turn to know it was the Goddess. Her presence always felt like the first snowfall of winter: quiet, majestic, and absolute.
"Because she must stay with me, Lucian," Ice said, her voice sounding like a choir of distant flutes. "She passed into the halls of the ancestors long ago. It is only my divinity, the very core of this space, that keeps her consciousness anchored here. If she leaves this sanctuary, the tether will snap, and she will truly be gone."
The weight of the words hung heavy in the air. Lucian looked at Still, seeing the dragon's bravado melt away. Still didn't look like a legendary monster in that moment; she looked like a child. She stepped forward, wrapping her serpentine neck around the Goddess's waist, pressing her head into the folds of Ice's robes.
"Mom… I don't blame you for that," Still whispered, her voice cracking. "I know you're doing this because I'm not ready to leave you. I know you're holding onto me because I'm selfish and I still want to live."
Ice didn't speak immediately. She simply stroked the dragon's scales, her faceless head tilted in a gesture of infinite love. "I know, my child. And I will hold you for as long as the stars burn. I love you."
"Love you too, Mom," Still sniffled, her scales shimmering with a faint, sorrowful light.
Lucian turned away, giving them their privacy. He focused on the final items of his journey. He packed the small tokens of his three months here—a sharpened shard of the Great Tree, a dried leaf that never lost its chill, and the various supplies he would need for the trek back down the mountain.
"I'm done packing!" he announced, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat.
Still pulled away from the Goddess, quickly wiping her eyes with a claw. She regained her snarky attitude in a heartbeat. "Rahh. About time! For someone so powerful, you sure move like a turtle."
Ice, however, didn't tease. She moved toward Lucian with the frantic, fluttering energy of a mother watching her child leave for war. She began checking his collar, smoothing the wrinkles in his tunic, and patting his pockets.
"Have you really packed everything? Did you take the extra rations? How is your body feeling—any lingering aches from the training? Are your limbs complete? Let me see your things! Have you put the winter cloak I gave you in the bottom? Where is the book?! And where is Snow?!"
Still grabbed the back of the Goddess's robes, trying to anchor her. "Calm down, Mom! You're going to smother him before he even reaches the portal. He's Lucian—you know he's a perfectionist. He's checked that bag six times!"
Ice slowed her movements, her hand resting over Lucian's heart. "Right… right. I just… three months is a short time for a Goddess, but it was long enough to get used to your footsteps in my halls." She paused, her form shimmering. "But where is Snow? I don't see him."
Lucian looked at the Goddess, his heart swelling with a warmth that defied his ice affinity. For years, he had been an orphan, a criminal's son, a ghost in the woods. But here, he had found something he never expected to find again.
"He's right here, Mom," Lucian said softly.
The world seemed to stop. The tinkling leaves of the Great Tree fell silent. Even Still gasped, her wings fluttering in shock.
Ice froze. Though she had no eyes to show it, the way her shoulders trembled told the story. Slow, crystalline tears began to roll down her faceless cheeks, freezing into tiny diamonds before they even hit the floor. She let out a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh, and threw her arms around Lucian's neck.
"He called me Mom… He called me Mom!" she wailed with joy, burying her face in his shoulder.
Still's scales turned a bright, indignant crimson. "Hey! You brat! How dare you call my mother that?! That's my Mom! Come here, you little—I'll show you who the real child is!"
Still lunged forward, but before she could tackle Lucian, Ice flicked a finger without even looking. An invisible barrier of compressed air slammed into the dragon's mouth, silencing her instantly.
"Mrhmm.. mmmm.. Mrhmm!!??" Still's eyes went wide as she tried to force her jaws open, her muffled grunts echoing hilariously through the cave.
…
After a long hour of final goodbyes, the atmosphere shifted from chaotic joy to the somber reality of the "Long Walk."
Ice stood before Lucian, her regal stature returned, though she still held his hand. "Do you really have to go? I have the power to weave life from the ether. I could create a companion for you, and we could wander the cosmos together, far away from the petty wars of men and mages."
Still, finally free from the silencing spell, let out an indignant huff. "Wow. So that's how it is? You'd invite the human to wander the stars while your actual daughter is stuck in a cave? I see where I stand in the hierarchy!"
"Be quiet, Still. We're having a moment of profound destiny," Ice replied with a playful edge. She turned back to Lucian. "Well?"
Lucian looked at the portal and then back at the two beings who had saved his soul. "I have to refuse, Mother. My parents gave their lives so I could have a place in the world. If I run away to the stars, I'm running away from the gift they gave me. I need to find out who I am—not just as an Altair, but as Lucian."
He took a step back and dropped into a deep, formal bow—the kind of bow a knight gives a queen, or a son gives a parent he deeply respects. "I would have died in the snow without you. I would have been consumed by the dark imagination my father left me. I can't thank you enough."
Ice raised him up, her voice regaining its majestic resonance. "We did not save you, Lucian. You saved yourself by having the courage to survive. We were merely the witnesses to your greatness. Now… before you leave, take out the book I gave you."
Lucian knelt by his suitcase, unzipping the enchanted leather and retrieving a plain, brown-covered book. It looked like something a common clerk would use for accounting. "I haven't opened it yet, just as you instructed," he said, presenting it to her on both palms.
Ice smiled. She swiped her left palm across the cover, and the "plain" book began to scream with power. A pillar of blue-white light erupted from the pages, and suddenly, the air was filled with glowing text. Thousands of runes, diagrams of ancient spells, maps of forgotten empires, and descriptions of every monster known to man swirled in a chaotic cyclone before being sucked into the binding.
"Now," Ice commanded. "A drop of your blood."
Lucian didn't hesitate. He summoned a sliver of ice—not a spear, but a surgeon's tool, sharp enough to split a hair. He pricked his index finger, and a single drop of crimson blood rose into the air. It looked like a ruby floating in the blue-white light.
As the blood touched the cover, it didn't smear. It was absorbed. The crimson merged with the blue, and a shockwave of mana rippled through the cave, making the Great Tree groan. When the light faded, the book was transformed. It was now bound in white dragon-leather, with silver filigree that resembled the branches of the Great Tree.
"This is the Grimoire of the Infinite Frost," Ice explained. "It contains the collective knowledge of every book in this sanctuary, plus the records of the world I have gathered from the winds. You need only speak to it, and it will provide the answers you seek. And because of the blood pact, it will never open for another soul. To anyone else, it will appear as a blank, worthless stack of paper."
She handed it back to him. Lucian felt the book thrumming with a heartbeat that matched his own. "Thank you… Mother."
Still stepped forward, her large golden eyes shimmering. "Well! Get going then! If you stay any longer, Mom is going to cry again and flood the place. When we meet again, Lucian, you better have a thousand stories to tell me. If your adventure is boring, I'll eat you!"
Ice laughed, a sound like falling ice. "Ignore her. Just remember, Lucian: we are always watching. Your parents are watching. If the world feels too big, or the shadows of the Altair name feel too heavy, just look at the sky. We are there. And you can always come back—the passcode will always be your key."
She snapped her fingers. A portal of swirling, violent blue energy tore open in the air behind Lucian.
"I'll remember," Lucian promised. He took one last look at the Goddess who had raised him and the Dragon who had challenged him. He waved his hand, stepped back, and let the portal swallow him whole.
…
In less than a heartbeat, the divine warmth vanished.