“The Sword of Half-Truth… seriously? That’s absurd… And besides… what is that even supposed to mean?” Valeria shook her head in disbelief as she snatched the old-looking sword from Oliver’s hands – without asking, of course. The steel gleamed dully in the cold light of the thin mountain sun, the grip wrapped in brittle leather, and a fine crack extended from the pommel, as if someone had once tried to break it – and miserably failed.

  Valeria turned the sword over in her hands, inspecting it, until her gaze caught on an engraving carved into the center of the blade: 9/1.

  "Nine over one?" she murmured, brow furrowed. "What’s that supposed to mean? A part? An artifact?"

  Nyxara, who had stayed in the background until now, stepped forward. Her black boots crunched over the frosty gravel as she leaned in to get a closer look at the sword. “It says 1/6, not 9/1. That would make no sense otherwise!”

  But Valeria silently turned the sword around. Light slid across the blade, making the engraving clearer – and it did, indeed, say 9/1. Nyxara’s eyes widened. Annoyed, she snatched the sword from her sister’s hands and spun it again – this time more frantically, almost angrily. But no matter how she turned it, it still read 9/1. No angle, no twist brought back the previous engraving.

  Coin – as carefree as ever – bounced to Nyxara’s side. “Cool! That means you already have more than you need, Nyxa– uh… Nyxie.”

  Nyxara’s left eyelid twitched. “That can’t be right! I need seven artifacts, and I definitely don’t have nine of one. That makes no sense at all.” Then she huffed softly. “But… at least you almost got my name right this time.”

  "I like your nickname," Oliver said with a smile. "It makes you seem less distant than your reputation suggests."

  Surprised, Nyxara blushed slightly and looked away. "Thanks…" she muttered. For a moment, a strange stillness settled over them – until a sound from nearby caught their attention.

  A faint, soft snuffling. Then another. And then… four small, round baby dragons peeked out from behind a rock. Their scales shimmered creamy white with hints of pastel – vanilla-colored, almost glowing. One had golden eyes, another a dark chocolate spot on its nose. The third had mismatched eyes, and the fourth looked especially creamy, streaked with pale pink lines.

  "They look so creamy…" Nyxara observed, fascinated.

  "…almost like vanilla ice cream…" Oliver added dreamily.

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  Coin squealed, her hair bouncing with every step, and in a sudden burst of energy, she ran toward the dragon babies, who didn’t react fearfully at all but curiously lifted their heads. “I’m naming the one with golden eyes Nilla, the one with the chocolate nose Vivi, the one with different eyes Chance, and the last one—”

  "Stop naming the dragons! You don’t even know where they came from!" Nyxara cut her off sharply.

  "Probably from a vanilla ice cream dragon…" Valeria mumbled, half-joking.

  Oliver looked up. “You’ve seen a real ice cream dragon?! I thought they were wiped out in the last heatwave!”

  Nyxara raised an eyebrow. “You know these creatures?”

  "Only from old bestiaries. Supposedly, they live in seclusion in the Misty Mountains, where the air tastes like snow. Survivors of the Icewinds – rare, intelligent, and very… sensitive to sugar…” He trailed off as a dark shadow fell over them.

  A massive dragon approached – its scales shimmered like molten chocolate, and its eyes glowed with soft amber light. The ground trembled beneath its steps. But just before it reached the group, it stopped. Slowly, it lowered its massive head – and gently nuzzled the tiny dragons. The little ones squeaked with delight.

  Then – to everyone’s surprise – it spoke. With a soft, feminine voice: “What brings you to these mountains, children? Surely you’re not just here to play with my offspring?”

  Coin, naturally, was the first to respond. “I’d love to! They’re so cute! Do you have more?!”

  Oliver cleared his throat. “Probably not. Four children is already unusually many for this species…” He noticed the dragon mother lowering her head slightly. “…No offense…”

  Valeria stepped forward, arms crossed, her gaze sharp. “Okay, before this gets too weird, you dessert – what’s your name?”

  The dragon snorted – a cloud of frost escaped her nostrils. “I am most definitely not edible. My name is Ella.”

  At that moment, her gaze fell on the sword Nyxara still held in her hands. Her eyes widened.

  "Is that… the real Sword of Half-Truth?"

  Before anyone could answer, a voice rang out. Muffled. Distant. And yet directly in the mind of each of them – except Ella.

  "This will be an interesting experiment…"

  A shiver ran down Ella’s back. Her scales rippled slightly, and a dark shimmer ran across her spine. She slowly lifted her head and looked around – as if she could grasp the source of the voice.

  "Did you hear that too?" Her voice now sounded tenser. But none of the others reacted to the question.

  Nyxara now held the sword more carefully, as if it might slip from her hands. "What exactly do you know about this sword?" she asked Ella cautiously.

  Ella hesitated, then lay down and curled her tail around her children. “This sword… is ancient. It belongs to a set of artifacts once created by the Keepers of Balance. Each of these artifacts does not show the truth – only the half-truth. What you see is always just a part. Sometimes the right one. Sometimes not.”

  "So the 9/1…?" Oliver wanted to follow the thought.

  Ella slowly shook her head. “It could mean: nine first fragments. Or nine deceptions. Or… that you don’t know what you have. Or that it’s too much.”

  "And why does it sometimes show 1/6?" Nyxara sounded uncharacteristically uncertain.

  "The sword… sometimes reflects your expectations," Ella explained. "It tests what you believe you know. Or what you fear."

  Valeria exhaled sharply. “So the thing’s not only broken, it’s manipulative too.”

  "Not manipulative. Testing," Ella said quietly.

  In the distance, dark clouds gathered. A wind rose that smelled of snow and magic. Coin was already snuggled up against the warm belly of the dragoness, petting Chance.

  Suddenly Ella flinched. Again, the voice echoed through her mind – this time sharper.

  "Test subject confirmed. Progress: 1 of 7. Beginning phase 2."

  Ella stood up abruptly. Her nostrils flared. “You must leave this place. Immediately.”

  "Why? What’s going on?" Nyxara asked, back in full control mode.

  "You are not alone here," Ella said. “Something is watching you. Something older than I am. And it has no interest in vanilla ice dragons. It only cares about you.”

  A thunderous rumble echoed from deep within the mountains. Nyxara gripped the sword tighter. Coin leapt to her feet. Valeria drew a small blade, and Oliver moved closer to the group.

  Ella spread her enormous wings. “Climb onto my back. I’ll take you somewhere safe.”