Snow had started falling early that year. Heralding the destruction of Helios.
Viscount Rossain stood by the high-arched window in the eastern wing of Helios Manor, the frost lining its edges a stark contrast to the fire burning inside his chest. The stone halls echoed silence. It wasn't silence of peace, but of dread yet unspoken. Outside, the snow blanketed the world in white, like a shroud.
"Winter's come early this year," Rossain muttered to himself, but his eyes weren't on the snowfall.
He was staring at a memory.
Years ago, Teriel—his sister—was promised to Derick, the elder brother of Viridian. But then Viridian, his friend, suddenly stepped into the limelight.
He wasn't supposed to be the heir. He wasn't even interested in the position. Yet, he took it. Derick died alongside his father. Teriel married Viridian. No one ever asked why.
Rossain collected himself, "Viridian needs to die." He said with terrifying resolve.
Down in the depths of Helios Manor's sealed basement, the First Shard stirred. A crimson gleam pulsed through the ancient obsidian slab it was encased in. It bubbled faintly, leaking dark fumes that coiled upward like smoke searching for air.
Something ancient had begun to breathe again.
---
[Four months earlier]
Raizen fell to his knees.
A ringing, sharp and sudden, exploded in his head. His vision blurred. It felt as though someone had driven a dagger behind his eyes.
Marvin, who had been sparring with him in the courtyard, rushed forward. "What happened!? Should I call for Mother—?!"
Raizen, drenched in sweat, waved him off with trembling fingers, still gasping. "No... there's no need."
Marvin hesitated, wide-eyed. His stance defensive, uncertain. "You sure? You look like you're about to collapse again."
Raizen stood, forcing calm into his expression. "Just... dizzy. That's all."
But it wasn't. The pain didn't feel natural. It wasn't like mana exhaustion or overtraining. It felt like something inside him had echoed with something else—a resonance.
---
That night, he trained alone until midnight.
The Helios training grounds were veiled in moonlight. Snow gathered on the edges of the marble tiles, footprints fading into white. His shirt stuck to his back, soaked in sweat, every breath fogging into the cold air. His sword was chipped from repeated impact against the reinforced training pillars.
Lira had told him to rest. Ricardo had scolded him about overworking. But Raizen couldn't stop. Not when the ringing kept returning—at odd hours, at the faintest hum, whenever he passed near the cellar.
---
Inside the manor, warmth and exhaustion fought for dominance.
Lira moved through the kitchen barefoot, wrapped in her usual beige shawl, flipping through spices. She hummed quietly as she stirred the stew—beef, potatoes, cinnamon, and a hint of something spicy. Ricardo stood nearby, sharpening a blade absently, his ears tuned to the sounds outside.
"He's still out there?" Lira asked without turning.
Ricardo nodded. "Training like a man possessed."
Lira sighed. "He'll make himself sick."
---
Elsewhere, in the western wing, the great halls of the manor creaked under the snow's weight. Chandeliers of crystal hung from high ceilings, their light dimmed by passing clouds. The manor's design was a blend of gothic and imperial—sharp arches, darkened glass, and halls lined with statues of forgotten saints.
And in one of those long corridors, Raizen wandered later that night.
He placed his hand on the cold stone wall, breathing hard. The headaches were worse in this part of the manor. He was drawn toward the cellar—always this way, like gravity whispering.
He paused.
The air here didn't feel right.
---
[Four months forward again.]
Viridian Helios lay on his side in the master bedroom. His breaths were shallow. His once-sturdy frame had withered. A haze clung to him—faint purple lines ran along his veins. His skin, pale as snow.
Ryan stood at the door, clutching his coat.
"Mother..." he said, turning toward Teriel who stood eerily still by the window, the snow reflecting in her glassy eyes.
"Father's dying. How can you stand there like it means nothing?"
Teriel turned slowly. Her face was beautiful, untouched by age. But her eyes—dead.
"It'll be alright, my son," she said gently.
Ryan shivered.
There was no warmth in her voice. No fear. No pain. Not even apathy. Just... hollowness. Like something was mimicking her.
Is this really my mother?
He said nothing else and turned back toward the hall.
---
Raizen sat on his bed, shirtless, his back covered in bruises.
Lira walked in with tea and a bowl of stew. "You're going to get frostbite at this rate. Eat. Sleep. Or I'll get Ricardo to carry you to bed."
He offered her a weary smile. "You worry too much."
"Because someone has to."
He took the bowl, eating quietly.
She watched him for a moment longer, then left.
And alone again, in the dim candlelight, Raizen stared at his reflection in the tea.
In the liquid's surface, he saw not his face—but the Shard. Bubbling. Pulsing. Waiting.
---
Back in the sealed chamber beneath Rossain Manor, the shard whispered.
Not in words.
But in pressure. In resonance. In echoes.
The snow would keep falling. But beneath it, something dark had begun to stir.
And above it all, Rossain watched with a heavy heart.
"The first snow... always brings with it ghosts of decisions not taken."
Behind him, the manor groaned. Below, the shard pulsed.
And far away, in a chamber untouched by time, the second shard blinked open its eyes.