Adam’s crimson eyes remained fixed on the pale figure before him. The man’s presence was one of cold stillness, as if he had long since stopped caring about the warmth of the living.

"Before that," the man said, his voice soft and unhurried, "I haven’t introduced myself."

He studied Adam for a moment, those grey eyes empty and calm.

"I am Eisendrache. Frost Dragon of the North."

Adam’s expression didn’t change. "I’m Adam. A monster."

The barest hint of a smile touched Eisendrache’s lips—a cold, hollow thing that didn’t reach his eyes.

"You call yourself a monster. Bold of you."

Adam met his gaze evenly. "It’s what I am. From the moment I was born, I’ve been a monster."

Eisendrache was silent for a moment, as if weighing the words. Then he inclined his head.

"So be it. Then you should understand why I’m here."

A flicker of irritation crossed Adam’s face. "What is this warning?"

Eisendrache’s gaze drifted past Adam, toward the distant glow of Kaelthar’s flames. When he spoke again, his voice carried a weight that had nothing to do with volume.

"We dragons have agreements. Old ones. We do not interfere without purpose. We do not cause chaos for the sake of it. And we maintain the balance of this world."

His grey eyes returned to Adam’s face.

"What you did today has shattered that balance."

Adam’s expression hardened. "Croft was going to destroy the city anyway. I just stopped him."

"Perhaps." Eisendrache’s voice was calm. "But the manner in which you stopped him matters. You did not simply kill a man drunk on borrowed power. You burned a city. You slaughtered soldiers who were following orders. You fed their souls to your Crown."

Adam’s fists clenched at his sides.

"They chose to fight."

"They did." Eisendrache nodded slowly. "And they died. But their deaths have consequences, Adam. The demon army will press harder now that Solaria’s forces are weakened. The assassin guild is destroyed, leaving a power vacuum that others will rush to fill. And the merchant who kept this city functioning is dead, along with his entire operation."

He took a step closer, and Adam felt the temperature drop.

"Balance is not about good and evil. It is about cause and effect. And the effects of your actions will ripple outward for years to come."

Adam’s voice was low, controlled. "Then what do you want me to do? Go back in time and let Croft win?"

That nearly-smile returned to Eisendrache’s lips, as cold and hollow as before.

"No. What’s done is done. I came to warn you, not to threaten you." He tilted his head, the snowflake hairpin catching the moonlight. "The other dragons will hear of this. Some will want to meet you. Others..." His grey eyes darkened. "Others will want to destroy you."

Adam’s internal voice was sharp.

’The other dragons. Of course.’

Eisendrache studied him for a long moment, then turned as if to leave.

"One more thing," he said, glancing back over his shoulder. "The compass you seek. It is broken, yes. But not beyond repair." His grey eyes gleamed. "There is a place in the Wasteland where artifacts like yours can be restored. The Loom of Fate. Seek it, if you dare."

Adam’s eyes narrowed. "Why are you helping me?"

Eisendrache’s expression didn’t change.

"I am not helping you. I am curious to see what you become."

He turned away, and his form began to dissolve into fine, glistening dust, like snowflakes caught in moonlight. The particles sparkled for a moment, catching the silver light, then scattered on the wind, carried away into the night.

"Farewell, monster. We may meet again."

Adam stood alone on the branch, his crimson eyes fixed on the empty space where the Frost Dragon had been. The last of the icy dust swirled once, twice, then faded into nothing.

’The Loom of Fate. In the Wasteland.’

He looked down at the compass still clutched in his hand.

"A way to fix it." His voice was quiet, almost to himself. "At least that’s something."

He settled back onto the branch, his gaze drifting to the distant glow of Kaelthar’s dying flames.

’The dragons are watching now. Great.’

Adam let out a long yawn, his jaws stretching wide as exhaustion finally began to settle into his bones. The Frost Dragon’s words still echoed in his mind, but there was nothing he could do about them tonight.

"Well," he muttered to himself, rubbing his tired eyes. "Hopefully those other dragons are as nice as Orion."

He glanced down at the sleeping forms of Lilith and Ignis, still curled together beneath the tree. Then his gaze drifted across the clearing to where Isolde had settled, her back against a mossy rock, her hood finally lowered.

She was asleep.

Her pale face was relaxed, the usual tension gone, her crimson hair spilling over her shoulders in soft waves. Her lips were slightly parted, and every few seconds, a small, almost inaudible sound escaped her.

"Ngh~"

Adam blinked. Then a slow, amused smile spread across his face.

"She’s cute when she’s sleeping," he murmured.

He dropped lightly from the branch, landing on the moss without a sound. His legs still ached, and his wounds throbbed, but he ignored them. He crossed the clearing and crouched beside Isolde, studying her sleeping face for a moment.

Then he reached out and poked her cheek.

"Hey. Wake up."

Isolde stirred, her brow furrowing. Her lips moved, but no coherent words came out, just another soft, sleepy murmur.

"Nghh..."

Adam’s smile widened. He poked her again, a little firmer this time.

"Come on, sleeping beauty. Time to take your turn on watch."

Isolde’s pale eyes fluttered open, unfocused and hazy with sleep. She blinked up at him, clearly not fully awake, her expression caught somewhere between confusion and annoyance.

"...Wha...?" Her voice was thick, groggy.

Adam stood, offering her a hand.

"Your turn to keep watch. Lilith and Ignis are already asleep, and I’m about to pass out myself. So get up."

Isolde stared at his hand for a long moment, her brain still waking up. Then, slowly, she reached up and took it, letting him pull her to her feet.

She swayed slightly, still half-asleep, and Adam had to steady her with a hand on her shoulder.

"You okay?"

Isolde blinked again, shook her head, and finally seemed to wake fully. Her pale cheeks flushed slightly as she realized how close he was.

"I’m fine," she muttered, pulling away. "I’ll take watch."