A small, radiant dragon descended from the heavens. Its scales were pure white, shimmering like moonlight dancing on fresh snow. Slender and graceful, the creature radiated elegance and majesty, with crown-like feathers adorning its head—symbols of both power and beauty.
As it glided down to the Royal Podium, the King stepped forward, gently draping a robe over the dragon. In a soft pulse of light, the divine creature shifted into its human form once more.
A man of such breathtaking beauty that even time itself seemed to pause.
Soft pink hair, spun from the very feathers of his draconic crown, framed a flawless face. His pale skin glowed with a divine radiance, and his lips carried the soft hue of a flower in bloom.
"Is that Lord Seraphyx?" a girl in the crowd whispered, cheeks flushed.
Another girl fainted outright.
"He's... so beautiful," gasped a noblewoman, rising to her feet in awe.
"I think I just fell in love… and I'm a man," said another bystander, stunned.
"No one will blame you," an old man beside him chuckled. "Even I feel a bit dizzy lookin' at him."
The crowd fell silent as Seraphyx stepped forward.
Before him, the plaza stretched endlessly, packed with citizens whose eyes were all fixed on the Royal Podium. The royal family stood beside him, dressed in ceremonial finery, dwarfed by the sheer divinity of his presence.
Seraphyx raised a single hand—elegant, claw-tipped, and serene—his palm facing the sky.
Then, he began to chant.
"You have waited... through grief, through silence. I have heard your longing. Allow me—just once—to grant you peace."
A pulse of Cryo energy burst from beneath his feet. But this was not just elemental magic—it carried something older, woven from illusion and memory. A radiant sigil bloomed beneath him, circular and ancient, like a snowflake carved into the very fabric of the world.
Snow began to fall—but it was not cold. The flakes shimmered with ethereal colors, like pieces of forgotten dreams. They drifted gently, brushing against every citizen—child, elder, knight, beggar alike.
Then, the world shifted.
The sky darkened. Foreign constellations flickered into existence above. The sounds of the city faded, replaced by something warmer.
Each citizen now stood in a cozy, familiar room, as though lifted from their deepest memories. And in that quiet space, they were not alone.
Lord Seraphyx was there with them.
"Do not fret," he said, his voice soft and nurturing. "This is but an illusion I have cast over the plaza, allowing me to speak with each of you—individually."
His divine aura softened, transforming into something warmer. Something more maternal.
---
Across the illusion, Seraphyx sat with countless souls—each alone, yet all at once.
---
—With Prince Orion—
Lord Seraphyx sat upon a bed, drawing Orion close until the prince's head rested gently on his lap.
"I can sense the weight on your heart," Seraphyx whispered. "Let's speak in peace. We have all the time in the world."
Orion closed his eyes, a sudden calm washing over him. "I... I don't think I'm ready to take the throne."
"No, you are not," Seraphyx said without judgment, fingers gently stroking Orion's hair. "You have the strength to face it, but the burden will weigh heavily on your spirit. If you want my counsel—leave Arian. Just for a while. See the world beyond."
"But… isn't Arian sealed off from the outside?" Orion asked, his voice tinged with frustration.
"It is," Seraphyx replied. "I created this space to shield Arian from the eyes of the Heavenly Principles—and from... others." He paused, briefly solemn. "But I can teach you how to open rifts. To travel beyond. The secrets are simple, once you understand them."
"Is it really okay for you to share something so important?" Orion asked hesitantly.
Seraphyx smirked. "Are you doubting your mother's judgment?"
"N-No! I didn't mean it that way—!"
"Then let us begin. I will show you how to control the space around Arian, how to open the path... and how to close it."
---
—With Lina—
Lina found herself lying with her head in Seraphyx's lap. She blushed furiously.
"Lord Seraphyx… you're so dreamy. I… I've been having terrible thoughts."
"Oh, my sweet child," Seraphyx chuckled, patting her head. "Mother loves all her children—and all their thoughts. And between us... your husband has had similar thoughts about me too."
Her jaw dropped. "WHAT?!"
Seraphyx giggled, clearly enjoying the moment.
---
—With a Thief—
Another soul sat in Seraphyx's lap, head lowered in shame.
"Mother... I'm not worthy of your love. I've done terrible things. I'm not a good person."
Seraphyx's voice was gentle. "Just because my children fight among themselves or lose their way... do you think I'd stop loving them?"
"But I—"
"You don't need to explain. I won't judge you for stealing. All my children have the right to survive, and to choose their path—even if that path is flawed."
---
—With a Young Girl—
In one room, Seraphyx found himself pinned to the bed by a determined young girl.
"Lord Seraphyx!" she declared. "Please, be with me! I've loved you since the moment I saw you!"
Without waiting, she kissed him.
To her shock, he didn't resist. Instead, he hugged her gently, letting her feelings flow.
Moments later, she pulled away, her face burning red. "I… I'm sorry…"
"It's alright," he whispered, smiling as he cradled her. "You can be yourself with me."
---
—With a Random Woman—
The woman sat beside Seraphyx, arms crossed and visibly annoyed.
"And then the little bastard went and proposed to her! Even after I introduced him to a perfectly lovely girl! Kids these days—no respect for their mothers."
Seraphyx simply nodded with an understanding smile. "Ah yes... nothing more terrifying than a parent with expectations."
Yet, even as laughter lingered and tears dried in the warmth of Seraphyx's embrace, something began to stir.
At first, it was subtle. A tremor not of the earth—but of presence. Like a breeze that forgot how to be gentle.
Seraphyx's eyes flicked upward.
His expression—soft and maternal only moments before—froze.
Not in fear.
But in absolute, piercing awareness.
Then—
Crack.
A jagged ripple spread across the illusionary sky like lightning beneath the surface of a frozen lake.
The warmth fled.
The rooms vanished.
And just like that—the illusion shattered.
Everyone was thrust back into reality.
Gasping.
Blinking under the pale light of the true Arian sky.
Snowfall returned—silent, cold, uncaring.
"What… what just happened?" a woman cried out, clutching her child.
"It felt like a dream—"
"Why did it end?!"
"Where is Lord Seraphyx?"
"Did something go wrong?"
Panic brewed not with screams, but in the stillness between heartbeats—too many people, too much silence.
Seraphyx stood alone at the center of the sigil, now cracked and flickering faintly beneath his feet. His gaze was locked ahead—unmoving, unblinking. His elegant form no longer glowed with maternal affection, but instead radiated a tension sharp enough to draw blood.
Orion stepped forward, eyes wide with concern.
"Mother…?"
But Seraphyx did not respond. His lips were parted slightly. The air around him had changed. It was heavier now, colder—not of Cryo, but something deeper. Something old.
Then, with a voice that felt too fragile to belong to a dragon so divine, he whispered:
"…They've pierced the veil."
The sigil beneath him dimmed into nothing.
He stared forward—at nothing, and everything.
"Something is coming."