A still silence hung in the air, broken only by the soft rustle of curtains swaying in the wind.
I sat alone in a room far too grand for someone like me—marble floors, velvet drapes, a ceiling painted with ancient wars I couldn't care less about. My thoughts swirled like a storm, trying to make sense of what happened the day before.
"Calm down, kid,"
Sango's voice rumbled in my mind—deep, amused.
"You're disturbing my peace."
I scoffed, eyes fixed on the ornate ceiling. Peace? That bastard had no right to speak of peace—not after yesterday. The heralds had dragged me back to the kingdom like some prized relic, announcing to the royal family that the Awakened had returned. Since then, I'd been treated like one of their own.
A grand chamber. Silver plates. Silken robes.
None of it mattered.
Freya was gone.
A knock sliced through the air—sharp, precise.
"Sir Mason," came Raleigh's voice, the old herald I'd met on the battlefield. "You've been summoned."
"Summoned a god?"
Sango sneered. "How dare they."
"I'm not a god," I muttered, voice low with frustration. His comment didn't amuse me—not today. I was still furious at him. Furious at his silence while Freya screamed, dragged away by faceless shadows.
The memory tightened around my chest like a noose. I stood and dressed quickly, my movements sharp, mechanical. I wouldn't kneel before royals looking like a beggar.
When I opened the door, Raleigh was waiting, head bowed. That same reverence. That same obedience.
"Sir," he said quietly, eyes lowered. "It is an honor to serve you."
I didn't respond. My jaw clenched, anger simmering beneath the calm. Every word, every bow, every honor they forced on me only reminded me how little they'd actually said. My comrades were dead. My camp gone.
And all they offered were empty words.
"We honor you."
What the hell did that even mean?
We walked through the corridor. My boots clacked against the floor in rhythm with my thoughts.
Freya.
Where was she?
"You worry for the little wench?"
Sango's voice echoed, louder now.
I ignored him. Let the cold hallway breeze wash over me as we approached the towering metal doors at the end of the passage.
Golden sigils pulsed faintly across their surface, humming with latent energy. Six knights stood guard—still as statues, their spears gleaming in the torchlight.
"We're here by request of the royal family," Raleigh said.
The knights nodded, stepping aside in practiced unison. The doors creaked open, revealing a grand hall soaked in opulence.
Red velvet carpets. Silver-threaded pillars.
And at the center—three thrones of gold.
The king.
The queen.
And the princess.
"My king," Raleigh said, bowing low. I mirrored him, lowering my gaze.
"Rise."
A voice like steel. Commanding.
We straightened. My eyes met the princess's for a heartbeat. Golden hair cascading like sunlight. Emerald eyes that shimmered unnaturally. She caught my gaze—and smiled.
I looked away.
"So," the king said, unimpressed, "you are the one they call the Awakened?"
Sango stirred inside me.
"Does he mock me?"
"You are but a child," the king continued, disbelief cutting through his tone. "How does someone like you awaken?"
My veins buzzed. Sango's presence flared. The drums of war pounded in my head, growing louder with every heartbeat.
And then—
"Father!"
Her voice—firm, yet gentle. The princess leaned forward, her eyes on me.
"It doesn't matter how young he is. He's still a warrior."
Her words struck deep.
The drums faltered.
Sango's rage dimmed.
"…I like her," he said, amused.
I scoffed at that. I doubted he was capable of liking anyone.
"My lord, if I may," Raleigh stepped forward. "His frame and age are deceiving. For before you stands the Warhoind of Legion Thirteen."
He said it like it was a grand reveal.
Silence fell over the hall.
The king stared, disbelieving.
"Him?" the queen said finally, her silvery voice edged with shock.
I stood still, a little stunned by their reaction. Was it really such a big deal? I thought my name was known only within the legion.
"How exactly will you prove this?" the king asked.
Raleigh looked at me—his eyes saying what his lips wouldn't.
Do something.
"We are not show ponies," Sango growled.
For once, I agreed.
But we had no choice.
"How do I prove myself?" I asked. "A duel. Against a fighter of your choosing. I will prove my name."
The king's expression soured.
"Very well," he said. "At noon, you face my best knight. Raleigh—make sure he knows the rules."
He waved a hand, dismissing us.
As I turned to leave, my gaze drifted back. The princess met it again—and smiled. A small wave followed.
The doors shut behind us. The guards resumed their positions.
"Well, that went well," Sango said.
"Really?" I muttered. "You tried to dance."
He went quiet. But I could feel it.
He was smiling.
"Doesn't matter. Tomorrow, you show your pride as a warrior."
I sighed.
I hated his mindset—but he was right.
Tomorrow, I had to fight. I had to win. I had to prove something.
But why?
I never wanted this. I only cared about two things.
And both were somewhere, lost in the Heart Kingdom.
We walked the halls. Raleigh was quiet—eerily so.
"Something wrong?" I asked. I didn't really care. But something about the silence unsettled me.
"No, sir," he said. "I just worry for your fight tomorrow."
He stopped walking.
"You'll be facing Galion Arment. My captain."
That gave me pause.
Was this his decision to make?
"Do you wish me to lose?" I asked.
"No. Never," he said. "I'm not worried about my captain. I'm worried about you."
His words cut through me. Wounded my pride.
Sango reacted first. Lightning cracked across the hall.
"You think I'll lose?" I asked.
With no hesitation. No fear.
He gave his answer. Clear as day.
"Yes. I believe so."
"How dare he?"
Sango flared up. The storm inside me stirred—lightning cracking faintly across the hall.
"I don't mean to insult you, sir," Raleigh said, calm and resolute. "But my captain has felled three Awakened. And that… was when he was at his weakest."
His words didn't feel like an insult anymore.
They felt like a warning.
A sobering one.
I clenched my fists. The air thickened with static. Sango's rage simmered inside me—but I held it back.
I had to be careful.