The forest air was heavy with smoke and frost.
Ryn could still hear the mansion burning behind them — the crackle of collapsing marble, the distant roars fading into the night. Each step through the garden's outer path felt like crawling out of one world and stumbling into another.
When they finally reached the main gate — a towering arch of black stone etched with glowing sigils — Ryn felt something he hadn't in a long time.
Freedom.
He leaned against the gate's cold metal bars, breathing hard, grinning through exhaustion. "We made it," he panted. "We're alive, not roasted, and gravity hasn't filed another complaint yet."
The wind brushed his hair. The scent of pine and wet earth filled the air — clean, wild, untouched. For the first time since crashing a wedding, he felt the weight in his chest lift.
"Freedom," he sighed. "You beautiful, elusive thing."
He closed his eyes, imagining his small home back in the northern slums — his shabby chair, half-melted lamp, and his cat, Mittens, probably knocking something off the shelf again.
"I'm coming home, buddy," he whispered. "Get the fish ready."
Lysandra turned to him, her expression caught between disbelief and amusement. "You're talking to your cat?"
"Of course," he said, straightening. "She's the only one who listens."
The princess shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips. "You're impossible."
"Thanks," he said. "It's my best quality."
He stepped forward, pressing a hand against the gate's seal. "All right. Once we're out, we can—"
"—die?" Lysandra interrupted softly.
Ryn blinked. "That's… not the plan."
Her voice was quiet. "Caelum will hunt us. The empires will blame me for the treaty's destruction. And you…" She glanced at him. "You destroyed the seal. You'll be marked as the enemy of Solvane."
Ryn exhaled. "Yeah, I figured. But at least we'll be free enemies."
He smiled faintly — but the expression froze when a deep voice broke the silence.
"Well, well. That's quite a speech for someone about to step into my front yard."
They both turned.
Beside the gate, a man sat casually on a wooden chair tilted back against a stone pillar, one arm draped over the backrest, head tilted as if he'd been dozing. His armor gleamed crimson in the moonlight, lined with black etchings that pulsed faintly like veins of magma. A long red-and-black cape draped behind him, fluttering slightly in the breeze.
A single horn-like crest curved from the side of his helm — though it was off his head now, resting beside him. His dark red hair caught the firelight like molten copper. He looked young — maybe in his mid-twenties — but there was an old, simmering strength behind his lazy amber eyes.
Ryn froze. "Uh… hi."
The man yawned, stretching slightly. "You two sure took your time. I've been sitting here for hours."
Lysandra's voice faltered. "Who… are you?"
The man grinned, sharp and easy. "Prince Kael of Vulmir. Volcanic Empire." He tapped his chestplate with a finger. "Also known as the other half of Ignathar."
Ryn's stomach dropped. "Oh great. Another dragon guy."
Kael's gaze slid to him. "You're the ice user, huh?"
Ryn tried to smile. "Define 'ice user.' I prefer 'enthusiastic winter enjoyer.'"
Kael chuckled. "Cute. You're exactly as weak-looking as the reports said."
Ryn blinked. "Wait—reports?"
Kael leaned back in his chair again. "Of course. Word travels fast. Six black-clad fools storming a wedding? One of them supposedly wielding frost strong enough to shatter divine seals? Everyone's talking about it."
He tilted his head. "And I figured… if the so-called strongest ice user in the world was real, he'd end up here — at the gate leading out of Solvane's territory."
Ryn swallowed. "So you came here… to kill me?"
Kael grinned. "Nah. I got bored of killing. I just came to see the disappointment up close."
Ryn's shoulders slumped. "Wow. Thanks. You really know how to make a guy feel special."
Lysandra stepped forward, her tone steady. "Prince Kael of Vulmir, the treaty between Solvane and Lumeria is broken. If you've come to interfere—"
"Interfere?" Kael laughed, the sound bright and dangerous. "Princess Lysandra, you think too highly of me. I'm not here for politics. I'm here because watching Solvane's golden prince burn his own wedding was the most entertainment I've had all year."
He stood, rolling his shoulders. The air around him shimmered faintly with heat. "Still… I didn't expect to find you two sneaking out together."
Ryn frowned. "Wait. What do you mean 'you two'—"
Kael smirked. "Come on. Don't play dumb. The runaway princess and her secret lover? Escaping under the cover of chaos? Very romantic."
Ryn blinked. "What—no! No, no, no! It's not like that—"
Lysandra flushed, looking away. "We're not—!"
But Kael only raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "You don't need to explain to me. I'm not judging. Honestly, it's kind of refreshing. The entire continent's drowning in politics and here you are, running away for love. How poetic."
Ryn opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Okay, we're definitely dying today."
Kael's grin widened. "Relax. I'm not going to hand you over."
Lysandra frowned. "You're not?"
"Nope," he said easily. "I like you, Princess. You've got guts, walking away from all that royal nonsense. And this guy—" He jabbed a thumb at Ryn. "—he looks like he's about ten seconds from fainting, but somehow he's still standing. That's impressive in its own sad way."
Ryn blinked. "...Thank you?"
Kael sat back down, folding his arms. "Tell you what. I'll let you go. But on one condition."
Ryn groaned. "There's always a condition."
Kael smirked. "Simple. Keep up the act. Everyone in Solvane's court saw you fall together. Rumor's already spreading that the princess ran off with a mysterious lover. If you want to stay alive, keep playing the part."
Ryn stared. "You want me to pretend I'm dating a princess?"
Kael shrugged. "Wouldn't call it pretending. You're already halfway there."
Lysandra looked as though she wanted to protest — then hesitated. "If it keeps them from tracking us easily…"
Ryn turned to her, horrified. "Wait, you're actually considering this?"
She crossed her arms. "Would you rather be executed for treason?"
"...Fair point," he muttered.
Kael laughed again. "That's the spirit! Don't worry, I won't tell anyone where you're heading. I might even spread a few false trails for you."
"Why?" Lysandra asked quietly. "Why help us?"
Kael's smile faded, just a little. "Because," he said, voice lower now, "I'm tired of watching Caelum play god while the rest of us pretend he's right."
He glanced toward the burning horizon. "If you broke his precious treaty, Princess, you might've done the world a favor."
Ryn blinked. "You don't like your brother much, huh?"
Kael's eyes hardened. "Let's just say I don't enjoy seeing a dragon's spirit chained to a man's pride."
The air around him rippled — faint embers rising, the faint sound of something vast and ancient breathing beneath his skin. For a heartbeat, Ryn thought he saw the silhouette of Ignathar's head behind him, coiling in the smoke.
Then Kael's grin returned. "Anyway, lovers, the road ahead is yours. Try not to die before the world figures out what to do with your little rebellion."
Ryn blinked. "Lovers—? No, seriously, we're not—"
Lysandra grabbed his arm. "Fox. Let's go."
He blinked, startled. "Uh, right. Sure."
As they passed through the gate, Kael waved lazily after them. "If anyone asks, tell them Kael approves of your forbidden romance. That should buy you a few hours."
"Why are you like this?" Ryn called back.
Kael grinned wider. "Because it's fun."
The gates groaned shut behind them, the sound echoing into the night. Ryn and Lysandra stood at the edge of the forest road, moonlight glinting on the wet leaves. For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Ryn sighed. "So… your royal friend thinks we're dating. Perfect. Just what I needed."
Lysandra looked away, cheeks faintly pink. "If it keeps us safe, it's a small price."
"Yeah," he muttered. "Small price. Right. Just my entire reputation."
She arched an eyebrow. "What reputation?"
Ryn pointed a finger at her. "I'll have you know, in my neighborhood, I'm very respected."
"For what?"
He thought about it. "Mostly for not dying."
Lysandra smiled, just a little. "Then let's keep that streak going."
They walked beneath the trees, the sounds of the burning city fading behind them. Fireflies drifted between the trunks, glowing like fallen stars. Somewhere far above, thunder rumbled faintly — the dying echo of a dragon's roar.
Ryn glanced sideways at her. "So, uh… this whole pretending-to-be-lovers thing. How long do we have to keep it up?"
"Until it stops being useful," she said simply.
He sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that."
She smirked faintly. "Don't worry, Fox. You're not exactly my type."
"Thank the gods," he said. "For a second I thought I'd have to start pretending to be charming."
She laughed softly — the first real laugh he'd heard from her — and for a moment, despite the ashes and ruin behind them, the night didn't feel so heavy.
From the distant gate, Kael watched them go, his golden eyes half-shadowed. The smile on his lips faded into something sharper — a flicker of curiosity, and maybe, just maybe, a touch of warning.
"The Ice Fox," he murmured. "Let's see how long your bluff lasts."
Note: All the Dragon spirit holders eyes turn golden once the spirit bound with them.