The first rays of morning light fell on Xuan Xi’s eyelids.
Feeling the warmth of the sun, she frowned, turned over, and her hand unconsciously landed on something warm and soft that didn’t feel like a pillow.
Her fingers instinctively squeezed it—it wasn’t a pillow, it felt like a human arm—and her eyes snapped open.
Silver-white hair was scattered across the white pillow, Sige’s eyes slightly closed, her eyelashes casting a small fan-shaped shadow beneath her eyelids, her lips gently pressed together, her breath steady and long.
Sigrdrífa was sleeping right next to her, on the same bed, the same pillow, even under the same blanket.
The distance was close enough for her to count the number of Sige’s eyelashes, close enough to smell the pleasant fragrance on Sige.
Xuan Xi’s face flushed from the base of her neck. She stared at Sige’s eyelashes for one second, carefully withdrew her arm, and moved back an inch.
Sigrdrífa didn’t wake up, so she moved another inch, but when she tried to move again, her elbow hit the headboard with a dull thud.
“Hiss—” she sucked in a breath, nearly tearing up.
Sigrdrífa’s body shifted, and Xuan Xi froze, as if hit by an immobilization spell. She watched Sigrdrífa’s eyelashes tremble, her brow furrow slightly, and then her amethyst eyes slowly opened. Those eyes reflected the morning light, and reflected Xuan Xi’s hand frozen mid-air, still clutching the back of her head.
Xuan Xi’s brain raced. ‘It’s too late to pretend to be asleep now, and pretending to be unconscious would be way too fake. So she made a stupid decision.’
“G-good morning.” She forced a smile, her voice cracking. “Sige, w-why are you in my bed?”
Sigrdrífa clearly had just woken up, not fully conscious yet. Her eyes glanced at Xuan Xi’s other hand hidden under the blanket—the one that had touched her arm—then at Xuan Xi’s other hand still frozen mid-air clutching the back of her head, and finally at Xuan Xi’s face, red as a boiled shrimp.
“You just squeezed me, didn’t you?” Sigrdrífa’s voice was low and husky from sleep, carrying a softness Xuan Xi had never heard before.
“…No.”
“Do you think I’m dead and can’t feel anything?”
“…I didn’t mean to.”
“…Really?”
Xuan Xi buried her face in the pillow, her voice muffled: “I’m sorry, Sige (⋟﹏⋞).”
Sigrdrífa didn’t speak. Xuan Xi only felt the blanket shift; a hand reached out from under it and grasped hers, fingers threading through her fingers, interlocking, palm against palm.
“We should get up.” Sigrdrífa’s voice came from beside the pillow, already back to its usual flat tone.
Xuan Xi lifted her face from the pillow. Sigrdrífa was already sitting up, silver-white hair falling over her shoulders, the collar of her nightgown slightly open, revealing a hint of collarbone. She didn’t look at Xuan Xi, just busied herself with straightening her clothes.
“Breakfast is going to get cold,” she said, standing up and reaching a hand toward Xuan Xi.
Xuan Xi was pulled up from the bed, her bare feet landing on the carpet. Sigrdrífa’s hand still held hers, and Xuan Xi was led by Sige toward the bathroom. At the bathroom door, they stopped.
“Go clean up.” She let go and turned away.
Xuan Xi stood at the bathroom door, looking at the hand that had just been held. The fragrance of Sige still lingered on her fingers. She curved her lips and walked into the bathroom.
Breakfast was in the dining room downstairs. A long table covered with a snow-white tablecloth, utensils gleaming in the morning light. The Duchess sat at the head of the table, wearing a light purple dress today, with a white shawl over her shoulders. When she saw the two coming down the stairs, her light purple eyes brightened, as if she enjoyed seeing her daughter together with Xuan Xi.
The Duke sat on her right, his short deep silver hair meticulously combed, his dark blue military-style formal uniform buttoned all the way up. His expression was as solemn as yesterday, but Xuan Xi noticed his gaze paused for a moment on his daughter’s hand intertwined with hers, then shifted away. He didn’t say anything more.
“Morning.” The Duchess raised her teacup in greeting to the two who had just arrived. “Did you sleep well last night?”
“Yes, thank you, Your Grace.” Xuan Xi’s voice was steadier than she expected.
Sigrdrífa didn’t answer. She pulled out her chair and sat down. Her hand naturally withdrew from Xuan Xi’s—after all, one couldn’t eat with just their mouth. But as she sat, she unconsciously moved her chair a few steps closer to Xuan Xi.
The atmosphere at the table was different from yesterday. The Duke didn’t ask any questions, nor did he give that suffocating stare. He simply ate breakfast quietly, occasionally exchanging a glance with his wife. Xuan Xi noticed that every time she looked up, the Duke’s gaze moved away from her face—she didn’t know why.
“Your name is Xuan Xi, right?” The Duke set down his knife and fork.
Xuan Xi raised her head. “Yes, Duke.”
“I’ve received notice that the start of term is approaching,” the Duke said in a deep voice. “I’ll send you and Sige back today.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The Duke looked at her, looked into those amber-gold eyes. “Feel free to visit whenever you have time.”
Those few words represented the attitude of House Edelstein. Xuan Xi curved her lips. “Okay, Xuan Xi understands.”
Freya smiled, raising her teacup to hide the curve of her mouth.
After breakfast, the four took a carriage, and soon arrived at the teleportation array. The Duchess gave Xuan Xi a hug—very light, like a cloud settling on her shoulder. Her light purple eyes looked at Xuan Xi, her voice so soft that only the two of them could hear. “That child never knew how to make friends since she was little. You’re the first person she’s brought home. Thank you, Xuan Xi.”
Xuan Xi’s eyes felt a little warm. “Not at all. I should be thanking her.”
The Duke stood not far away, hands clasped behind his back, looking into the distance. He didn’t come over to say goodbye, but Xuan Xi walked up to him, bent at the waist, and bowed. “Thank you, Duke.”
The Duke looked at her. He reached out and lightly patted her on the shoulder. Xuan Xi raised her head, but he had already turned around. His silver-gray silhouette stretched long in the sun.
“Let’s go.” Sigrdrífa walked over and took Xuan Xi’s hand.
“Yeah.”
As the light of the teleportation array blazed, Xuan Xi turned back for a look. The Duke and Duchess were still standing there, hands clasped. This time, she was sure he was watching them. She curved her lips and waved at him.
Light enveloped them.
—
The light of the teleportation array dissipated behind them, and the familiar academy mountain gate appeared before them.
Since the academy’s teleportation gate hadn’t been established yet, teachers and students had to teleport to the teleportation station at the foot of the mountain. There was still a path to the academy at the top—a stone path winding upward, flanked by plane trees that had already started shedding their leaves. Golden leaves covered the ground.
Back. I, Xuan Xi, am back again.
Holding the stack of notebooks, Xuan Xi took a deep breath. The air smelled of grass and soil, completely different from Sige and Veralis’s territory.
“Walk up?” Sigrdrífa stood beside her, her silver-white hair tinged pale gold in the twilight.
“Yeah, no rush anyway… mm—” Before Xuan Xi could finish, Sigrdrífa grabbed her hand and dragged her into the forest beside the path.
“What’s wrong?”
Sigrdrífa didn’t answer. She let go of Xuan Xi’s hand and walked to the center of the forest clearing.
Then her entire body began to change. Silver-white scales emerged from under her skin—not the partial dragon transformation taught in class, but a full, complete transformation. Her form began to expand and elongate, limbs turning into thick dragon claws, her back rising into broad dragon wings. Silver-white scales glowed with a cold metallic luster in the twilight. Thunder and flames danced across the scales’ surface, flowing from her spine to her wingtips, leaving fine arcs and sparks in the air.
A complete Western dragon, coiled in the forest clearing.
Her length exceeded twenty meters. The silver-white dragon body was sleek and powerful, wings folded at her sides, the membranes of her wings showing a nearly transparent silver-gray at the edges. Her head was sharp and angular, backward-curving dragon horns gleaming coldly in the dusk. Amethyst dragon eyes looked down at Xuan Xi from above.
Xuan Xi looked up at the mountain-sized dragon, her mouth open, unable to close for a long time.
“Come on, Xuan Xi,” the dragon spoke. The voice didn’t come from her throat—it resonated directly in Xuan Xi’s mind—low, gentle, with a slight tremor. It was Sigrdrífa’s voice, but deeper and heavier than usual, like a vibration from underground.
“Come… on?”
“I’ll fly you up. Let you enjoy the beautiful scenery.”
Xuan Xi looked at the silver-white dragon, at her broad back, at the hollow between her scales where a person could sit. She swallowed and climbed up.
The scales were slippery. Despite using both hands and feet, her hand slipped once, and her knee slipped again. Sigrdrífa had to use her tail to support the sole of Xuan Xi’s foot from below before Xuan Xi managed to sit steady.
“Ready?”
“…Ready.” Xuan Xi’s voice floated.
The dragon spread its wings and gave a powerful beat—the wingspan covered the entire sky above the clearing, the silver-gray membranes like two vast clouds in the twilight. Leaves on the ground were swept up by the wind, spinning and dancing in the air. Xuan Xi hugged Sigrdrífa’s back, her fingers sinking into the gaps between the scales, her face buried in the silver-white mane.
She took off instantly.
There was no violent jolt as she had imagined, not even a feeling of weightlessness. Sigrdrífa’s takeoff was as fluid as water—back legs pushing off, wings sweeping once, and her entire body rose lightly into the sky, like a silver-white leaf carried by the wind.
Xuan Xi opened her eyes. The twilight stretched beneath her—in the distance, the floating peak where the academy sat; closer, layers of autumn forest; farther still, the lights of the town at the foot of the mountain flickering on one by one. The wind brushed past her ears, lifting her ink-green hair, blowing it into an arc behind her.
“So beautiful,” she murmured.
Sigrdrífa didn’t speak, but her body tilted slightly, carrying Xuan Xi in a wide circle, so that every corner of the academy could be seen from the air.
“Is this how you flew when you were little?” Xuan Xi asked.
“Yeah.”
“Alone?”
“…Yeah. Sometimes with my family.”
Xuan Xi hugged her tighter, her arms wrapping around her back, her cheek pressed against the silver-white mane. A cold fragrance seeped from the gaps between the scales, mixing with the cool wind of the air.
“From now on, you can bring me along,” Xuan Xi said.
The dragon didn’t speak, but her body tilted a bit more, and she made another circle. Not because she was lost—just that she didn’t want to land too soon. She wanted to stay a little longer with Xuan Xi.
The dragon landed at the academy entrance—not the main gate, as landing there would cause a commotion, so Sige chose a patch of grass beside the side gate.
Xuan Xi slid off her back, her legs a bit weak. Because her entire weight had been pressed against Sige’s dragon back, close against her scales, smelling her fragrance—that sensation had made her heart race, and it still hadn’t calmed down.
After landing, Sigrdrífa transformed back into human form. Silver-white hair fell over her shoulders, her dark gray dress a bit messy in the twilight.
Xuan Xi dared not look at her. Not out of shyness, but because a question had struck her during landing—when Sige dragonized, where did her clothes go? Did they get torn? So was she wearing her own clothes now, or not? So was she—
“What are you thinking?”
Xuan Xi jerked her head up. “N-nothing!”
“Your face is red.”
“That’s from the wind—”
“The wind is cold, how could it make your face red?”
Sigrdrífa walked up to her and raised her hand—a light chop landed on Xuan Xi’s head.
Snap. “Unless… you’re thinking something inappropriate,” Sige hit the nail on the head.
“That hurts, you know!” Xuan Xi covered her head, though it didn’t hurt at all.
“Next time you fly, don’t think weird things.”
“I wasn’t thinking weird things, I was just thinking—”
“Thinking what?”
Xuan Xi opened her mouth, then closed it. What could she say? She couldn’t exactly say “I was wondering where your clothes went.” She lowered her head, blushing from the base of her neck to the tips of her ears.
Sigrdrífa looked at her, looked at her face red as a boiled shrimp, and blinked her amethyst eyes. “…You really were thinking weird things.”
“I wasn’t!”
“Let’s go.” Sigrdrífa turned and walked away.
“Sige—”
“Going back for dinner.”
“Sige!”
Sigrdrífa didn’t look back, but her pace slowed a little, slow enough for Xuan Xi to catch up.
The two walked side by side into campus. The stone path gleamed wetly under the streetlights, and the plane tree leaves rustled on both sides. Xuan Xi walked beside her, looking at her profile—the lamplight cast a warm orange on her face, forming a gentle contrast with her silver-white hair.
Xuan Xi curved her lips, reached out, and took Sigrdrífa’s hand.
Back in Room 404, Xuan Xi placed the stack of notebooks on the desk, together with the diary, handkerchief, and notes. Under her pillow was turning into a small library. She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The dormitory ceiling was gray, with a crack in it—she stared at it every night. She remembered that in Sige’s castle, the ceiling was pure white, no cracks, smooth as a mirror.
She stared at that crack, and somehow curved her lips. ‘This place is better after all.’
Not because it was better than the castle, but because Sigrdrífa’s bed was here—no, in the castle, Sigrdrífa’s bed was also next door. Then why? She couldn’t explain it, but she buried her face in the pillow and simply inhaled the fragrance of the pillow.
Just as Xuan Xi was rolling around on the bed, her communication stone vibrated. A message from Veralis: “You’re back?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t worry about returning the notebooks yet.”
“Yeah.”
“I heard from Sige that your Destiny Mark changed?”
Xuan Xi’s finger hovered over the screen. She walked to the mirror and turned her face to the side. Three dark gold lines below her right eye glowed faintly in the twilight. The third line, forced out by the Duke’s pressure aura, meant her seal had loosened one more layer.
She took a photo of her three lines and sent it over.
Veralis’s reply came quickly: “Three lines. Congratulations, that means the seal is starting to loosen. And with three lines, you can try partial dragon transformation on a small scale—arm, hand, or any part you find convenient. You won’t faint like last time.”
Xuan Xi stared at those words. ‘Partial dragon transformation won’t trigger the seal?’
“No. Three, six, and nine lines are each a watershed. Every three seals unlocked allows you to perform stronger operations, because the restriction judges that your body’s strength can handle it.”
Xuan Xi put down the communication stone and looked down at her right hand. With a thought, ink-green scales emerged from beneath her skin, covering her fingers, the back of her hand, her wrist. Not like the previous times when she’d dragonize and suddenly be suppressed by the seal—this time, the transformation was quiet and controlled. From fingertip to elbow, each scale bore a faint golden light pattern.
She made a fist. The scales rustled against each other. The Destiny Mark lay quietly below her right eye, emitting a unique light—no pain, no heat.
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