Darkness surrounded him.
Not the peaceful kind—but the suffocating kind, heavy and endless.
Aster floated in it, weightless, his consciousness drifting like ash in the wind.
Then—
A faint light appeared.
Soft.
Warm.
Hazy.
A figure emerged from within it.
A woman.
Her form was indistinct, wrapped in radiance, her face blurred as if the world itself refused to fully reveal her. Yet her presence alone sent a strange familiarity through Aster's soul.
He knew her.
Even without remembering her name.
She looked at him gently.
"Aster…"
Her voice echoed not through his ears, but directly into his heart.
"Do you remember your dying wish?"
Aster's breath caught.
Fragments flooded his mind—
A dark sky.
Lightning tearing through clouds.
A broken twenty-five-year-old man kneeling on cold earth.
Is it even possible for me to become an artist… one who can make people smile?
The woman stepped closer.
"Have you fulfilled it?"
Aster clenched his fists.
"…I'm trying."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Have you become a singer big enough? Strong enough? Someone who can protect what matters?"
Images flashed before him:
Astra laughing beside him.
Arlienne smiling through tears.
Snowflake Mansion glowing under lantern light.
Then—
The empty carriage.
His mother screaming his name.
His chest tightened painfully.
"No…" he whispered. "Not yet."
The woman's gaze softened.
"I am the one who carried your soul to this land," she said quietly.
Aster's eyes widened.
"You're—"
"A goddess," she replied, without pride or arrogance. Simply stating a truth.
He swallowed.
"Then why…?"
"Because you are wasting your gift," she said gently—but firmly.
Aster flinched.
She raised her hand, and sound itself seemed to bend around her.
"You were reborn with Sound Magic not to merely sing."
Her voice deepened.
"Sound is vibration.
Vibration is force.
Force can protect—or destroy."
Aster's heart pounded.
"You can heal.
You can inspire.
You can guide."
Her eyes burned brighter.
"And when needed… you can fight."
She leaned closer, her voice a whisper now.
"Wake up, Aster Snowflake Wynfall."
"Think."
"Use sound not just as music—"
"But as power."
The light flared—
And the darkness shattered.
***
Aster's eyes snapped open.
Pain surged through his head.
The scent of foreign leather filled his nose.
The carriage rattled violently beneath him.
We're moving.
Instantly, his body tensed.
"Astra—!"
He pulled her close without hesitation, wrapping one arm around her protectively.
She was still unconscious.
Breathing.
Alive.
Relief flooded him—followed immediately by cold fury.
Chains of mana suppression circled the carriage walls.
Foreign runes.
Crude, but effective.
Kidnapped…
Aster's jaw tightened.
Then he remembered the goddess's words.
Sound is vibration.
Vibration is force.
He closed his eyes.
And thought.
Not of songs.
Not of melodies.
But of frequency.
Pressure.
Resonance.
He drew a careful breath.
Holding Astra closer, he tilted his head slightly upward—
And opened his mouth.
There was no music.
No rhythm.
No beauty.
Just pure intent.
A sharp, concentrated ultrasonic wave exploded outward.
The sound itself was inaudible to most—
But its effect was catastrophic.
The carriage walls screamed.
Glass shattered instantly.
Metal buckled inward.
Runes cracked like fragile ice.
The carriage detonated in a violent shockwave of sound.
Wood splintered.
Wheels tore free.
The driver was thrown clear, screaming.
Aster twisted his body mid-blast, shielding Astra with his own back as debris flew past them.
They slammed into the dirt.
Hard.
Aster rolled, cradling Astra, absorbing the impact.
The forest exploded into chaos.
Birds fled.
Trees shook violently.
The shockwave echoed across hills and valleys—
A sound so unnatural that even the night itself seemed to recoil.
Miles away—
Pegasus riders froze.
"What was that?!"
Duke Leon's head snapped toward the eastern forest.
"That sound—!"
Horns blared instantly.
"That came from the east!"
"Move! NOW!"
Pegasus wings thundered as knights dove toward the source.
***
Back at the crash site—
The kidnappers staggered to their feet, ears bleeding, vision spinning.
"What the hell was that?!"
Before they could react—
A small figure stood among the wreckage.
A white-haired boy.
Silver eyes burning.
Holding a white-haired girl tightly against his chest.
Aster looked at them coldly.
"You should've tied my mouth," he said quietly.
The forest wind howled.
In the distance—
The beating of massive wings grew louder.
Aster adjusted his grip on Astra.
"No one touches her," he whispered.
Not again.
Above the treetops—
Pegasus shadows descended.
The hunt had found its target.
And the night was about to erupt.
***************************
The forest trembled beneath the beating of wings.
Pegasus knights descended from the sky like falling stars, moonlight flashing against white feathers and polished armor. Branches snapped as they landed, surrounding the shattered remains of the carriage in a tight formation.
Aster stood at the center of the wreckage, breathing unevenly.
His silver eyes scanned the figures cautiously—until he saw the crest on their armor.
Kingscrown.
The moment he recognized it, the strength left his body.
His knees buckled.
"Prince Aster—!"
A knight rushed forward, but Aster had already collapsed, still holding Astra protectively against his chest.
Exhaustion finally claimed him.
He was only eleven years old.
His mana reserves were empty, because of the sudden burst in power.
His body had been pushed beyond its limits.
His mind, still reeling from fear and rage, finally shut down.
Astra did not wake.
She remained unconscious, her breathing steady but deep—the effects of the sleeping gas still lingering.
Duke Leon Kingscrown landed moments later, his pegasus skidding to a halt.
He took one look at the scene.
The destroyed carriage.
The cracked trees.
The unconscious twins.
And his blood ran cold.
"Secure the children," Leon ordered sharply.
"Gently."
Two knights carefully lifted Aster and Astra, wrapping them in cloaks lined with mana-warming runes.
Leon knelt briefly, checking their breathing himself.
"They're alive," he exhaled. "Thank the Light…"
Lea Kingscrown landed nearby, eyes wide with shock.
"That… that was Aster's doing, wasn't it?" she whispered, staring at the devastation.
Leon nodded grimly.
"Sound magic," he murmured. "Weaponized."
His respect for the boy deepened instantly.
***
Nearby, the kidnappers staggered among the wreckage.
Blood ran from their ears.
Their movements were unsteady.
Panic flashed across their faces when they realized they were surrounded.
"Run—!" one of them shouted.
Before anyone could react—
One of the men bit down hard.
A sharp crack echoed.
He collapsed instantly.
The others followed in terrifying unison—
hidden poison capsules shattered between their teeth.
Within seconds, all of them lay motionless on the forest floor.
Dead.
A knight swore softly. "They killed themselves…"
Leon's expression darkened.
"Professionals," he said coldly. "They were never meant to be interrogated."
Lea clenched her fists. "Cowards."
Leon stood slowly, gaze hard.
"Collect the bodies. We will examine them later. Every detail matters."
But his attention returned immediately to the twins.
"They come first."
***
The return journey was swift.
A pegasus carriage—lightweight, fast, and enchanted—was prepared immediately.
Aster and Astra were placed inside, wrapped in warm cloaks, mana crystals glowing softly around them to stabilize their condition.
Leon mounted his pegasus at the front.
"Full speed," he commanded. "Straight to the palace."
The night sky blurred as they flew.
***
Back at the palace—
Arlienne sat frozen in the banquet hall.
Her dress was wrinkled.
Her hair disheveled.
Her eyes hollow with terror.
Every passing second felt like a knife.
Please…
Please be alive…
Then—
The massive doors burst open.
A knight rushed in.
"Lady Arlienne!"
She stood so fast her chair toppled behind her.
"Yes—?!"
"We've found them."
Her breath caught painfully.
"They're alive," the knight said quickly. "Unconscious, but alive."
Arlienne didn't wait for anything else.
She ran.
Down corridors.
Past guards.
Ignoring shouts behind her.
She reached the courtyard just as the pegasus carriage landed.
The doors opened.
And there they were.
Aster.
Astra.
Sleeping peacefully.
Alive.
Arlienne collapsed to her knees.
She sobbed—loudly, openly, uncontrollably—as she pulled them into her arms.
"My babies… my babies…"
She pressed her forehead to Aster's.
Then Astra's.
Her tears soaked their cloaks.
She didn't care.
King Aldren stood nearby, pale and shaken.
Leon dismounted and approached him, bowing stiffly.
"They were kidnapped professionally," Leon said quietly.
"The perpetrators killed themselves before questioning. But this was not random."
Aldren's fists clenched.
"Inside the palace…" he whispered. "Inside my walls…"
Leon met his gaze.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Aldren's eyes slowly turned toward the throne room.
Toward where Queen Lura stood—
Silent.
Still.
Watching.
And for the first time—
Fear flickered across her face.
***
Arlienne held her children tightly, refusing to let go.
No apology mattered.
No excuse would suffice.
This night had crossed a line.
And somewhere deep within the kingdom of Vornis—
Something irreversible had begun.
*********************
It was long past midnight when Aster and Astra were finally returned to their mother.
The palace courtyard, once filled with celebration, now felt hollow and cold. Lanterns flickered weakly as Arlienne held her children tightly, refusing to let go even for a moment.
Aster slept deeply, his breathing uneven but steady.
Astra lay limp against her chest, still unconscious from the lingering effects of the sleeping gas.
They were alive.
That alone was enough to keep Arlienne standing.
But her heart was far from at peace.
She knew.
She *felt* it.
Her eyes drifted briefly—just once—toward the palace hall, where Queen Lura stood surrounded by attendants, her expression carefully neutral.
Arlienne doubted her.
Deeply.
But doubt was not proof.
And accusing the queen of a nation without evidence would not only fail—it would endanger her children even more.
So Arlienne said nothing.
She lowered her gaze.
She stayed silent.
And that silence burned.
***
When news arrived that the kidnappers had taken their own lives using poison capsules hidden in their mouths, the palace buzzed with shock.
"They killed themselves…?"
"Professional operatives…"
"Then who ordered this?"
Whispers spread through the corridors like poison itself.
Queen Lura heard the news from a servant.
She stiffened for a split second.
Then relaxed.
No witnesses.
No confessions.
No trail leading back to her.
Relief washed through her like a bitter balm.
She composed herself immediately.
"A tragic incident," she said coolly. "We are fortunate the children survived."
Inside, her heartbeat finally slowed.
***
King Aldren, however, was not relieved.
He stood alone in his private chamber, hands gripping the edge of his desk so tightly his knuckles whitened.
"Inside the palace…" he muttered. "Inside my protection…"
Duke Leon Kingscrown stood before him, silent but unwavering.
"This was no random act, Your Majesty," Leon said firmly. "Someone with influence arranged this. Someone who knew the palace's routines."
Aldren closed his eyes.
"I swear," he said hoarsely, "I will find who is responsible. No matter who they are."
Leon bowed once.
"I will assist however I can."
***
Arlienne refused the palace's offer to rest.
She wanted to go home.
Back to Snowflake Mansion.
Back to safety.
Back to the place where her children belonged.
Lea Kingscrown approached quietly as preparations were made.
"Lady Arlienne," she said hesitantly, "may I… come with you?"
Arlienne looked down at the girl.
Lea's eyes were filled with worry and guilt.
"I want to make sure they're okay," Lea added softly.
Leon nodded from behind her. "If you permit it. She won't be a burden."
Arlienne managed a small smile.
"…Thank you."
So Lea rode with them.
The journey back was quiet.
No one spoke.
The capital slept, unaware of how close it had come to tragedy.
***
When they arrived at Snowflake Mansion, the gates were already closed.
The lanterns had been extinguished.
The guests who came for Arlienne's birthday had all gone home, unaware of what had unfolded after they left.
The celebration was over.
The joy was gone.
Inside the mansion, servants hurried to prepare rooms.
Aster and Astra were placed gently into their beds, physicians summoned immediately.
Arlienne sat beside them, holding their hands, watching their chests rise and fall.
She did not sleep.
Not even for a moment.
Lea sat quietly in the corner, eyes red, refusing to leave.
"This birthday…" Arlienne whispered faintly.
She glanced at the calendar on the wall.
Thirty-five.
Her thirty-fifth birthday.
A day that began with laughter and music.
And ended with terror, bloodless violence, and the realization that the palace would never stop reaching for her children.
It was a birthday she would never forget.
Not for joy.
But for the lesson it taught her.
***
Slowly—
Very slowly—
The night passed.
Candles burned low.
The mansion remained silent.
And then—
Morning came.
Soft sunlight crept through the windows.
Birds began to sing.
A new day arrived.
But nothing felt new.
Because somewhere in the palace—
Truth was being buried.
And somewhere in the shadows—
The consequences of last night were only beginning.