The sun dipped low into the horizon, casting long shadows across the Augustus estate. The aftermath of the day's fierce training battles lingered like a scent in the air—burned grass, cracked stones, and scattered mana still buzzing faintly.
But now, silence had reclaimed the world.
Near the garden pond, where lilies floated in tranquil grace, Lyra sat alone—knees tucked, her breath steady, her fingers outstretched toward the water's surface.
A single flower of ice hovered above her palm, delicate yet imperfect. Its edges flickered, unstable, as if her heart trembled through the mana.
Why... why won't it take form?
She frowned, narrowing her eyes. It was snow—not ice—that refused to shape under her will. It crumbled again, vanishing into thin mist.
"Still rejecting it?" came a calm voice.
Startled, Lyra turned.
Noah stood behind her, his white coat swaying softly in the evening breeze, his eyes glowing crimson—Calm, yet sharp.
Before she could reply, he moved.
In a single, fluid motion, Noah scooped her into his arms.
"Wha—Noah?! Wait—"
Too late.
Wind mana surged around his entire body in soft spirals, wrapping them both in an invisible current. He channeled earth mana into the air beneath his feet, compressing it—solidifying the very wind and soil to create temporary steps of floating stone and air.
Step by step, he ascended the sky.
The mansion's outer walls blurred past them as they rose higher and higher—Lyra gripping his coat tightly, eyes wide.
Above them, the orange-pink sky stretched endless and soft, scattered with feather-like clouds. Below, the world shrank: trees became moss patches, the pond a silver coin. The estate and training fields looked peaceful, distant.
They reached the peak—an open, untouched terrace atop the Augustus mansion, lined with overgrown ivy and faded marble.
It was quiet. Only the wind greeted them.
Noah stopped circulating mana. They landed gently.
He sat down on the edge of the rooftop ledge, pulling Lyra onto his lap without hesitation.
She blinked, stunned. "H-Hey... what are you—?"
Noah didn't let go. His arms wrapped around her waist tightly, possessively. His head rested lightly against her neck, the warmth of his breath tickling her skin.
Then—
A kiss on her cheek.
Then one on her neck.
She stiffened. "N-Noah?! Wha—are you...!"
His grip didn't loosen. Another kiss. And another.
His fingers curled into hers, tender yet firm.
This wasn't like him.
Noah always respected her space. Never pushed.
But now… he wasn't asking.
He rubbed his cheek against hers like a sleepy cat. Whispered in her ear, "You smell like winter. My favorite season."
Her ears turned bright red.
She tried pushing his face away—his smile infuriating.
He tilted his head, pretending innocence.
She clenched her teeth, cheeks burning, and bit his lip.
Hard.
"Agh—OW!" he yelped.
Blood welled at the edge of his mouth, but he just laughed, brushing her hair back.
"D-Don't laugh!" she smacked his forehead hard. "What is wrong with you today?! You're acting like a—like a damn flirt!"
Still smiling, he tilted his head. "Me? I didn't do anything wrong."
"You didn't?! You didn't stop even when I bit you! You bled! Why don't you ever listen to me?! Why do you still smile after that?!"
His eyes quieted.
And then—he looked straight at her.
"Because... aren't you doing the same?"
She blinked. "Huh?"
"You don't listen either," he said softly, the wind stilling around them. "I told you not to let your hatred cloud your judgment. And yet... here you are, still letting the snow element rot inside you—chained by memories that no longer exist."
Her breath caught.
"That's not the same," she muttered, voice brittle.
Noah didn't let go of her hand. "Isn't it?"
He raised his hand slowly, cupping her cheek.
"You hate snow because of him. But the power—it doesn't belong to him. It's yours. Your mana. Your birthright."
Her heart trembled. She looked away.
"Noah... I can't... every time I see it—every time I feel it—I see that moment. My mother, lying in the snow… his blade in her chest. His smile…"
Her voice broke.
Noah pulled her close, pressing her forehead against his.
"Then make new memories."
His voice was low, firm.
"You said snow reminds you of the worst time of your life. Then overwrite it. Right here. With me. With Scarlett. With Layla. With your future."
Tears welled in her eyes.
He brushed them away with his thumb.
"I was a failure too, Lyra. You remember me back then. Useless. Powerless. Mocked by nobles. Even my fiancée rejected me."
Lyra's breath hitched.
"If I hadn't moved on, if I hadn't kept pushing… I wouldn't be here with you now. We wouldn't be this close."
His fingers trailed along her cheek.
"I know your pain. But don't let it chain you."
Her body trembled in his arms, and for a long moment, she said nothing.
Just the sound of wind.
Just the weight of his words.
Then softly—she whispered, "I don't know how."
Noah smiled.
"You don't have to know. Just take the first step. I'll walk with you."
Lyra's chest ached. Her heart, frozen for so long, began to melt.
Snow began to fall.
Soft, white flakes—not harsh, not cruel—but gentle.
She looked at her palm.
A snow Lily formed—beautiful and complete.
"Its beautiful not hateful like you always thought right."
It's didn't break like earlier.
It was stable.
Not out of hate.
But through her own will.
She looked up at him, eyes shimmering.
"...You always do this."
"Hm?"
"Make me fall for you again."
He kissed her forehead, whispering, "And this won't be the last time."
★★★★
Beneath the peaceful glow of the setting sun, the garden's gentle breeze rustled the silver-blue petals of mana-touched flowers.
A lone figure stood quietly in the shadows beneath a blooming mana tree.
Alea.
Her sharp black eyes and raven hair shimmered slightly with residual mana. Clad in a dark violet robe trimmed with icy patterns, she was elegance personified—but the stern aura around her made it clear she wasn't just a beautiful woman.
She was Lyra's mother—and an ice witch in her own right.
She had come to call Lyra for a mana discipline session—but paused when she noticed her daughter near the pond.
Her eyes narrowed as she watched Noah approach.
"Hm... What is this silver-haired brat doing now?"
She was about to step forward—until she saw Noah suddenly scoop Lyra into his arms in one swift motion.
"What—!?"
Her brow twitched. Her fingers unconsciously wrapped around the hilt of her ceremonial dagger. Her aura stirred—just faintly.
"...That little bastard…"
She was seconds away from storming the mansion wall, ready to teach Noah a lesson in respecting boundaries, when—
She heard his voice.
Thanks to her enhanced senses—trained beyond the limit of normal human perception—she could hear every word spoken, even from the here.
At first, it was teasing, soft whispers, warmth between two hearts—typical for young lovers.
But then…
His tone shifted.
The air changed.
From playful intimacy to heavy truth.
"You don't use snow element because of your hatred for your father."
"I'm not asking you to forget that pain—but don't let it steal your future. That power is yours, not his."
Alea's hand loosened.
Her eyes softened—just a little.
She leaned silently against the tree trunk, shadows cloaking her presence.
She continued listening in silence as Noah slowly peeled away the ice around Lyra's heart. Not with magic. But with truth.
"Your mother. Isn't she with you all the time here? Why can't you let go of the past and accept what you have now?"
Alea's lips parted slightly. Her fingers trembled for a second.
Those words struck her harder than any blade.
She'd tried for years to reach Lyra's inner pain. Countless mother-daughter conversations, hundreds of warm embraces, so many quiet nights where she tried to assure her—
But it never worked.
Yet this boy…
This foolish, flirtatious, shameless boy…
He reached her daughter's soul.
He made her cry—not in weakness, but in release.
Alea looked up at the sky.
The clouds were glowing crimson with the last light of day. The breeze felt… lighter now.
"…Tch."
She chuckled softly, folding her arms.
"Looks like I've got no choice but to approve of this silver-haired playboy."
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but her smile was genuine.
She had been watching him all this time in the mansion from afar.
He never once favored one girl over another.
Scarlett, Layla, Lyra—all treated with respect and care. No empty promises. No manipulation.
Even now, he hadn't tried to impress her with power—but instead spoke truth, raw and heavy.
Alea turned away from the scene, cloak billowing behind her.
As she vanished into the shadows once again, she left one final whisper for the wind to carry:
"Thank you, Noah. And keep Lyra happy."
Just like that—she was gone.
As if she'd never been there.
But somewhere, deep within the rooftop breeze, a mother's silent approval lingered like the warmth of twilight.
End of Chapter.