"Teach me how to fly like an eagle!" Emperor Leon declared, his voice echoing with command.
Ayana, her gaze steady, replied, "First, you need a spark, something to ignite your power, Your Majesty."
"A spark? What exactly do you mean by that, Ayana?" Leon asked, a furrow in his brow.
"Think of it this way, Leon," Ayana began, using his preferred name. "Since your birth, there hasn't been a need for you to unleash your eagle abilities. They lie dormant, waiting for the right push. We need a simple way to awaken your flying so we can reach our destination."
"Then tell me, how do I wake them up?" Leon pressed, his impatience growing.
"For now," Ayana explained carefully, "the only key to unlocking your power is anger. It's the intense heat of anger that can activate your wings."
"Anger? But... how does that even work?" Leon questioned, bewildered. "And I'm not a man easily angered. How am I supposed to do this?"
"It's simpler than you think," Ayana assured him. "Just recall everything that has ever made you angry, even those memories that burn the hottest."
"That's it?" Leon asked, his tone laced with disbelief.
"That's it. Just remember and focus," Ayana confirmed.
Immediately, Leon's mind flooded with memories of injustice, betrayal, and frustration. The more he delved into these feelings, the stronger the pull in his back became, a sensation like nascent wings stretching. He continued to focus, and suddenly, with a fierce cry, he shattered the walls and burst into uncontrolled flight.
Ayana, her own wings snapping open, followed swiftly. She called out directions, her voice a guiding beacon in his chaotic ascent, gradually helping him gain control. Finally, he soared with a newfound, raw power. Their journey had truly begun.
As they flew, Leon found himself stealing glances at Ayana. Her grace in the air was mesmerizing. The anger that had propelled him skyward began to dissipate, replaced by a burgeoning sense of wonder and even joy. A smile touched his lips.
Then, disaster struck. The shift in his emotions seemed to sever the connection to his power. He plummeted earthward with terrifying speed, the wind screaming in his ears. "Ayana! Help me!" he cried out, panic seizing him. She tricked me, a bitter thought flashed through his mind. Then, darkness claimed him. He fell unconscious, landing with a sickening thud. He lay still, lost in a deep coma.
As Leon lay in the silent darkness of his coma, strange visions began to flicker in his mind. He found himself in a kingdom that felt ancient, lost to time.
"Your Majesty? Your Majesty, may I come in?" The deep voice of an old man, Noah, echoed through heavy wooden doors, loud enough to reach the King within.
King Luther, pacing his chamber, his thoughts a swirling storm, heard the call. "Come in, Noah!" he replied, his voice carrying a touch of weary authority.
Noah entered, his presence filling the room. Before he could speak, King Luther turned to him, his eyes troubled.
"Noah, my old friend, I'm glad you're here. I had a dream, a strange and unsettling dream. Perhaps you can shed some light on it."
Before the King could finish, Noah responded with gentle eagerness, "If it pleases Your Majesty, tell me everything." He bowed his head low in respect.
"Come closer, Noah," King Luther gestured, then insisted, "Sit. Sit with me." He indicated a chair to the left of his imposing throne.
Noah settled into the chair, his aged eyes filled with curiosity about the King's dream.
King Luther began, his voice hushed, "I dreamed I held a child in my hands, a boy, but he was split with two colors: blue and green. Then, the blue side blazed with such a fierce light it hurt my eyes. After a while, I saw the green struggling, trying to shine, but it couldn't. These colors kept fighting, until finally, they both faded into yellow."
He paused, his gaze distant. "The child grew in my hands, Noah, until my hands could no longer hold him. He kept growing, bigger and bigger, until he filled my entire kingdom. Then I woke up."
He looked at Noah, his demand clear. "Tell me, old friend, what does this dream mean?"
Elder Noah stroked his long, white beard, his brow furrowed in thought. "My King," he said slowly, "allow me to take this dream with me. I need to offer a prayer, to seek guidance on its meaning."
"Very well," King Luther conceded. "But I need answers, and I need them quickly. When you leave, tell the guard to send Sasha to me. My wife."
Noah nodded, a silent promise in his eyes. He rose, bowed deeply once more, and left the King to his troubled thoughts.
Moments later, Queen Sasha entered King Luther's chamber, her expression hinting at unspoken thoughts.
She approached her husband, kneeling gracefully and resting her head briefly against his feet, a gesture of deep respect. Luther gently took her by the shoulders, lifting her until their eyes met. He offered a warm smile.
"You're late today, my love," King Luther remarked, a hint of concern in his voice. "That's unusual. Is everything alright?"
"I was speaking with Helen," Sasha began, her voice tinged with unease, "and she mentioned seeing Joana leaving your room. Then she said Elder Noah departed shortly after!" A shadow of jealousy and sadness flickered across her beautiful features, though she fought to maintain her composure as she awaited his explanation.
"Joana did not sleep here, Sasha," Luther said firmly, his eyes meeting hers. "You know I have never taken another woman, even though tradition allows it." He understood the source of her distress.
He continued, his tone reassuring, "I summoned Joana to send her to their camp to fetch Noah."
He added, a touch of gentle reproach in his voice, "I waited for you, my queen, and when you didn't come, I needed to find Noah quickly. Tell me, Sasha, what thoughts trouble you when you hear of Joana's presence here?"
Hearing her husband's words, Sasha took a deep breath, the tension easing from her heart. She looked at him, a genuine smile finally gracing her lips.
She turned towards the window, her gaze distant, and said softly, "One day, Luther, I will be called mother. I will hold our strong child in my arms, play with him, and sing him lullabies. He will grow to be brave, strong, and true."
For years, King Luther had been aware of his wife's deep longing for a child. Her desire was a constant presence in their lives, something he understood clearly.
Yet, Sasha's sudden words struck him with a fresh wave of surprise, especially after the strange dream that had troubled his sleep.
"Sasha," he asked, his voice holding a note of disbelief, "do you truly think I would take a concubine to bear me a child?"
"Anything is possible, my King," Sasha replied, her tone neutral.
"Perhaps," Luther conceded, "but it is not in my heart's plan. May your heart never carries such a wound. But tell me, why this talk of children now? What stirs within you?" he asked gently.
"I was merely speaking my heart's desire," Sasha insisted softly. "And I will continue to speak it until it becomes our reality."
"Then may your wish be granted, my queen," King Luther said, his voice filled with affection.
After their conversation, Sasha returned to her chambers. She walked towards her beautiful bed, a haven of rest. She removed her regal attire, the heavy queenly garments, and dressed in simple, comfortable clothes. As she lay down, a sense of peace settled over her, warmed by the loving words Luther had spoken.
Seven years had flowed like a quiet river since King Luther had taken Sasha, the only daughter of the esteemed Chief Daarun, as his wife. Chief Daarun was not just a great leader of the powerful Darsh empire, wielding significant influence among his people, but he was also a unique figure, touched by the very spirits of the Darsh lands. He possessed abilities beyond the ordinary, able to commune with the spirits, forming a bond of mutual respect and loyalty, a dance of power and reverence.
Sasha, his sole heir, was cherished by her father not only for her inner goodness but also for her striking beauty, a light that shone brightly. In the same land lived King Lukesh, a ruler known for his compassion and unwavering commitment to equality for all his subjects. Tales of Chief Daarun and his remarkable connection to the spirits reached King Lukesh, sparking a keen interest.
Daarun and Lukesh forged a strong friendship, their mutual respect blossoming over time. It was Lukesh who, recognizing the exceptional qualities of both families, eventually encouraged his own son, the young Prince Luther, to seek Sasha's hand in marriage. Captivated by Sasha's renowned beauty, Luther readily agreed. Their union was met with joy and hope throughout both their kingdoms.
Did Ayana truly trick Leon, and what is her real game?
Could King Luther's dream child hold a secret about Leon's true identity?
Is Queen Sasha's longing for a child somehow tied to Leon's mysterious arrival in her time?