The next few days were filled with silence and small gestures, Turtle following Rebront's lead as she guided him through the intricacies of her life, her past, and the world she had lived in before their paths had crossed. She shared fragments of her history with him, though always with a careful edge, as if she were guarding something precious and fragile inside. Her words were measured, and at times, Turtle felt like he was piecing together a puzzle—one that would never fully come together.

They spent their time together in a kind of routine—Rebront taking him out on hunting trips, teaching him new skills, always a little distant, always a little closed off. It was clear she was trying to focus on the present, on the tasks at hand, instead of dwelling on the past. But Turtle could see the shadows in her eyes, the quiet tension whenever Darkstalker's name was even thought of. He had learned quickly to avoid speaking of him, to not pry. It was clear she wasn't ready to confront whatever it was that kept him so tightly tied to her heart.

Still, Turtle couldn't help but study her. He observed her with a quiet intensity, trying to understand not just who she was but who she wanted to be. There were moments, when the world around them was still, when he could see flashes of a leader—someone strong, someone independent, not bound by the past, not afraid to take the reins and carve her own path. It was this vision of her that he held onto, the belief that one day, she would rise above the shadows that Darkstalker had cast over her, that she could find a way to be her own ruler, not his.

But each time she smiled at him, or showed kindness, or shared a piece of herself, he felt the weight of her inner conflict. Darkstalker's presence was always there, lurking like a shadow she couldn't escape, and as much as Turtle longed to be the one to help her break free from it, he knew that she had to do it on her own. He couldn't fight her battles for her, no matter how much his heart ached to try.

Rebront seemed to bury herself in her work, in the distractions of the day, hoping, perhaps, that the noise would drown out the whispers in her mind. But Turtle saw it—the way her wings would twitch at an unfamiliar noise, how her gaze would flicker, distant and far away, as if Darkstalker were still speaking to her in the back of her mind. And yet, no matter what, Turtle could see the spark of something more—something powerful and untamed.

She didn't want to be ruled. Turtle could see that now, despite the darkness that haunted her. She wanted to be free. And maybe, just maybe, he could help her get there. But the question was—would she ever let him in?

The howl echoed through the icy winds, a terrifying sound that had been lurking at the edges of their minds, impossible to ignore any longer. Sora's heart pounded in her chest as she realized they were about to be torn apart. Her breath caught in her throat, and Rebron was right there with her, his claws scraping against the frozen ground, searching for a way out.

The IceWing stood towering over them, his massive form shimmering like shards of glass. His claws scraped the snow, and then, with a bone-rattling screech, he lunged. Icicles broke off his spiked tail as he swiped at them with terrifying speed.

Rebron's claws dug deep into the ground as he held his ground. "You idiot!" Sora snarled, snapping her wings open to block the incoming strike. "I was about to kill that freak!"

Rebron didn't flinch. "Don't mess with that Icicle, Sora. It's not the way to get what you want," he warned, his eyes narrowing as he slowly stepped back, pushing Sora away.

Starflight, trembling, slunk toward the edge, away from the IceWing's rage. Icicle's eyes burned into them as she turned toward Rebron. "And how would you know what I want? You weren't there when Winter killed our brother," she roared, fury breaking free from her chest.

Winter, overhearing the angry exchange, stepped out of the shadows, his wings folding tightly as he approached, a wounded snarl on his lips. "Just what are you doing, Icicle?" he asked, his voice laced with both concern and confusion.

Icicle's glare was icy enough to freeze the air. "Oh, yeah, take their side, why don't you? Is Rebron really more important than your own family? Queen Scarlet offered me the chance to kill the dragons of the prophecy, to rid this world of them for good, and she'd give Hailstorm back to us! You really think I'm just supposed to let that go?"

The weight of her words hung heavy in the freezing air, as Winter shifted uneasily, caught between loyalty to his family and the strange, twisted offer he'd just heard.

Rebron sighed deeply, brushing his wing gently against Winter's, trying to calm the tension that was thick in the air. "Don't listen to her, Winter," he said quietly, his voice laced with a quiet sadness. "She doesn't know what she's talking about. Scarlet would've just killed her anyway, along with her brother." He trailed off, a heavy pause hanging in the icy air.

Icicle's eyes narrowed dangerously, but she said nothing, clearly seething with rage. Rebron continued, his voice growing colder, his wings shifting to block Icicle's view of Winter. "You really think Hailstorm's alive, don't you?" Rebron asked softly, his words cutting through the sharp silence. His expression softened, just slightly, as he tilted his head. "You can't seriously believe that."

Icicle's talons scraped the frozen earth beneath them as she tensed. She was ready to strike, ready to lash out, but Rebron was faster. Without warning, he grabbed her, pulling her close in one swift movement, holding her tightly as if she were nothing more than a struggling hatchling. Her claws scraped desperately at his talons, but it was no use—he had her pinned.

"Let me go, you freak!" Icicle screamed, her voice filled with rage. Her wings flared, trying to break free from his grip, but Rebron was unyielding.

Winter's eyes blazed with a mixture of confusion and fear. "Rebron, what are you doing? Let my sister go!" he barked, stepping forward, his wings flapping as though he was ready to defend Icicle at any cost.

Rebron didn't flinch, his voice remaining calm despite the storm raging around them. "She doesn't understand, Winter," he said simply. "She's too blinded by her rage to see the truth."

Icicle's claws continued to dig into the air, her rage unabated. "You're wrong," she hissed through gritted teeth. "I'm not blind. I know exactly what I'm doing."

But deep down, the doubt began to creep into her heart. Was Hailstorm really alive? Was the world really as simple as Scarlet's lies had made it seem? Or had they all been led down a dark path, only to face the same cold reality together?

Rebron sighed deeply, her wings folding tightly against her sides as she leaned in closer to Icicle, her gray-blue eyes staring into the IceWing's with an intensity that could cut through the cold.

"You sure?" Rebron asked, her voice calm but firm, each word weighted with the conviction of one who had seen too many lies. "Because Queen Scarlet is a liar, and you know that."

Icicle froze for a moment, her claws pausing mid-swipe as she met Rebron's gaze. The words hit her like a stone. She had always known something was off about Scarlet, but the idea that she had been manipulated, tricked into believing false promises—it made her stomach churn.

Rebron didn't blink. She leaned in just a little closer, her voice low and steady. "You really think she would've kept her word? Scarlet would've killed you the moment you stopped being useful to her. She doesn't care about anyone, not you, not Hailstorm, not even herself. She only cares about power."

Icicle's chest tightened, but she refused to show weakness. "Then why did she tell me?" she demanded, her voice harsh. "Why would she say it if it wasn't true?"

Rebron's eyes softened, the fierceness in her gaze giving way to something more sincere. She took a deep breath before speaking, her tone quiet but firm. "Because lies are powerful, Icicle. They make you believe in something—make you think you have a chance at something better. But Scarlet... she just plays games with you. If you keep chasing her promises, you'll only end up lost and broken, just like her."

Icicle blinked, feeling a flicker of doubt spark within her. The words gnawed at her, the weight of truth sinking in despite her attempts to hold onto her anger. Rebron wasn't wrong—she had seen the destruction that Scarlet left in her wake, the lives she ruined. Was she really any different?

Rebron took a step back, giving Icicle the space to breathe, but her eyes remained steady, unwavering. "You don't have to follow her anymore, Icicle. You can choose your own path. Choose the truth. Choose something better than this."

For the first time, Icicle's claws relaxed, and the fire in her eyes flickered. Could it be true? Could she walk away from the lies and the darkness that had surrounded her for so long? The question hung in the air, and for a moment, Icicle was lost in the silence.

Rebron's grip on Icicle loosened, and with a final, controlled motion, she released the IceWing. Icicle stumbled back, her claws scraping against the frozen ground as she regained her stance. Rebron stepped back as well, her wings folding slightly, standing beside Winter, who eyed her with concern.

Rebron, slightly larger than Winter, carried herself with an aura of quiet strength. Her scales, a blend of muted blues and grays, shimmered under the dim light, but it was the necklace around her neck—simple, yet significant—that caught the eye. It was a subtle reminder of her identity, the symbol of a dragon who could blend in with others, standing neither above nor beneath the rest. She wasn't meant to stand out like Darkstalker, who had the power of immortality on his side. Rebron had no such advantage—she was just an ordinary dragon, made all the more vulnerable by the world she had to survive in.

Icicle's chest heaved with anger as she glared at Rebron. "I don't care what you say, you freak," she snarled, her voice raw with fury. Without another word, she lashed out. Her claws, serrated and sharp, sliced through the air with incredible speed, aiming straight for Rebron's throat. The blow landed with a sickening thwack, the sharp talons tearing through the space between them and striking Rebron in the side of her neck.

Blood sprayed in a fine mist, pearls of it glittering in the air before falling to the ground, and Rebron staggered back, gasping as the blow knocked the breath out of her. Her wings flared wide for balance, but the damage was done.

Winter's eyes went wide in horror, and he shrieked, "No!" His wings flared as he moved toward Rebron, desperate to reach her, but she crumpled to the ground with a heavy thud, her body falling limp.

Everything went silent.

Icicle stood frozen, her own chest heaving, her claws dripping with blood. The quiet around them felt suffocating, the sound of Rebron's fall still echoing in the cold air. Winter crouched beside her, his face pale, as he frantically checked her pulse.

"Rebron, no..." Winter murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

The world seemed to hold its breath as Winter's eyes flicked back to Icicle, filled with a storm of emotions—rage, confusion, and sadness, all battling for control. But Rebron's body remained still, her chest rising and falling slowly, too slowly.

Icicle, for the first time, looked uncertain, the anger that had once blazed in her heart now flickering and dying in the face of what she had just done.

Was this what she wanted? To destroy everything? To take down the one dragon who had tried, however imperfectly, to show her the truth? The silence seemed to stretch on forever, and in it, Icicle was left to confront the choice she had just made.