The capital of Ardenthal loomed through the thinning fog like a sleeping giant. Its walls rose high and pale, soaked dark by the rain, each spire tipped with faint gold that caught the light from the breaking dawn. Equito's horse moved slowly down the main road, its hooves striking wet stone with dull rhythm. The city was stirring, the sound of hammers, vendors, and the murmur of morning prayers drifting faintly through the narrow streets.
People parted as she passed. The sight of a royal knight in silver armor always drew eyes, but it was the shape across her horse that silenced them. The dark cloth was heavy with water, pressed close around the still form beneath it. A few whispered to each other, some crossed themselves, others simply stared.
She kept her gaze forward.
The smell of the city mixed with the rain. Smoke from the bakeries, the stench of the river, the faint metallic tang of forges starting their fires. It was alive in every sense, yet she felt detached from it all. Every sound was distant. Every color muted. She could not shake the cold crawling beneath her armor.
The gate to the inner palace stood open. Two guards stepped forward, but when they saw her crest, they saluted and moved aside. The rain dripped from the visor of her helm as she passed beneath the archway. The courtyard beyond was immaculate, cobblestones shining like glass in the rain. Rows of soldiers stood at attention, their armor polished bright as mirrors.
She dismounted, boots splashing into shallow puddles. Servants rushed to assist, their faces pale when they saw the bundle she carried.
"Summon the steward," she said quietly. Her voice felt heavy, as if speaking required effort. "Tell him Equito of the Third Order has returned from assignment. I bear a message for the king himself."
One servant hesitated before running off toward the palace steps. The others lingered, unsure whether to meet her eyes or look away.
Equito took the cloth-wrapped form into her arms. The weight of it was unbearable. Not in size, but in meaning. The young man's head rested against her arm, his hair damp and dark, the scar along his jaw stark against the pale of his skin. The wound in his chest was hidden, but she could feel it beneath the fabric, the place where her halberd had pierced through.
The rain seemed to lessen as she climbed the steps. Her armor clinked with every movement, echoing through the marble halls. The sound of her boots mixed with the faint rustle of silk as courtiers turned to watch her pass. Whispers rippled behind her like wind through dry grass.
She entered the throne room.
It was vast, ceilings carved with the scenes of the kingdom's history. Pillars of white stone stretched high, banners of crimson and gold draping between them. The king sat upon the raised dais, his crown small and thin, his expression distant until he saw what Equito carried.
The hall fell silent.
The steward stepped forward, voice trembling. "My lord, the knight Equito returns from the southern academy. She brings… a grave burden."
Equito dropped to one knee, holding the body steady before her. "Your Majesty," she said. "I bring what remains of your son."
The words struck the room like a blade against glass. Gasps spread through the gathered nobility. The king's hand twitched once against the arm of his throne.
He rose slowly. His steps were heavy, deliberate. He descended from the dais, each footfall echoing like thunder. When he stopped before her, the hall seemed to breathe and hold still.
Equito lowered her head. "He was discovered living among those of the southern academy. He fought with unnatural power. I… was forced to act."
The king's eyes moved to the shrouded figure. For a long moment, he said nothing. His hands trembled, though his face remained unreadable.
At last, he spoke, voice low. "Show me."
Equito hesitated, then pulled the cloth aside.
Kael's face was pale but intact. His lips were faintly parted, his hair clinging to his forehead in damp strands. There was no decay, no lifeless stiffness. He looked asleep, though the hole through his chest betrayed the truth.
The king's jaw tightened.
A sound escaped him, quiet and strangled, before he turned away. "Have him taken to the royal sanctum. The priests will prepare him for the rite. I will speak to no one until it is done."
Equito bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Guards stepped forward, lifting the body with practiced care. For a moment, as they turned toward the door, one of them flinched. The young knight almost dropped his end.
Equito saw it. The twitch. The way Kael's fingers flexed beneath the cloth. So small, so brief, that anyone else would have missed it.
Her blood ran cold.
The king did not notice. He had already turned his face away, retreating toward the stairs. The nobles whispered again, too soft to make out. The sound filled the room, a rising tide of unease that even the banners seemed to listen to.
Equito rose slowly to her feet.
Her eyes lingered on the departing guards as they carried the body through the side door, vanishing into the long corridor that led to the royal sanctum.
For the first time since the academy, she felt something like fear.
It wasn't that she had killed a prince. It wasn't even that the court would blame her.
It was that she had seen dead eyes move.
The procession had barely made it through the eastern corridor when the silence was broken.
A sharp, wet thud echoed against the marble floor. One of the guards had dropped his end of the body. The sound stopped everyone. The priests turned first, their faces pale beneath the flicker of torchlight. The young knight who had lost his grip stumbled back, his hand shaking violently, eyes wide in horror.
Equito felt her stomach sink.
The boy's voice cracked. "He opened his eyes."
The words cut through the hall like a blade.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. The other guard swore under his breath, bending quickly to lift the fallen body, but the younger one stepped back again, stumbling until he nearly fell.
"I swear it," he said, louder now. "I saw it. His eyes opened. I saw them move."
The king turned at once. His face drained of color.
"Hold your tongue," barked the steward. "You stand in the presence of the court."
The young guard shook his head violently. "No, no, I saw him. He looked right at me. His eyes were open." His voice was high with panic. "He looked at me."
Equito stepped forward before anyone else could move. Her armor creaked as she knelt beside the body. The cloth had slipped slightly in the fall. She reached out and pulled it back.
Kael's face stared up at her. Still. Pale. Unchanged.
But his eyes were open.
Not wide, not wild, but barely parted. Just enough for her to see the faintest line of color beneath the lashes. They were not glassy like a corpse. There was a wet shimmer there, a glimmer of something that caught the light.
Her breath stopped in her chest.
The king descended the dais again, each step heavier than the last. The sound of his boots filled the room. The courtiers whispered behind him, fear threading through their voices.
When he stopped beside Equito, he stared at the boy's face for a long moment, his jaw trembling with fury and disbelief. His hands were shaking.
"What mockery is this," he said quietly.
Equito rose to her feet, standing rigid. "I do not know, Your Majesty. He was dead when I brought him here. I swear it."
The young guard's breathing was ragged. "He moved," he whispered again. "He looked right at me."
"Silence," the steward snapped.
But no one could look away. Even the priests, trained to face the worst horrors of death, had drawn back. One made a sign against evil. Another whispered a prayer beneath his breath.
Equito crouched once more, leaning close enough to feel the faint chill radiating from Kael's skin. She waited, her eyes searching for any flicker, any twitch. The world around her felt distant. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart.
Nothing.
No movement.
The king's voice came again, sharp and cold. "Is he breathing?"
Equito hesitated. She did not want to answer.
"Check him," he ordered.
Her gloved hand moved to Kael's neck. Her fingers pressed against his throat. The skin was cold. Too cold. There was no pulse.
Yet beneath that coldness, she thought she felt something else. A vibration. Faint. Like the echo of a heartbeat that was not quite there.
Her mouth went dry.
She pulled her hand back quickly. "No pulse, Your Majesty."
The king's gaze lingered on her for a moment, searching her face. He wanted to believe her. He needed to. His shoulders slumped slightly as he exhaled through his teeth.
The tension in the hall thinned but did not fade. The guards bent again to lift the body, this time more carefully.
Then Kael's head turned.
It was a slow, dragging movement, small enough that only Equito saw it. His hair shifted slightly against the cloth. His face tilted toward the guard on the right.
The young man froze mid-step. His knees buckled.
Equito reached for her halberd, but she did not draw it. She couldn't. The king was watching. The court was watching.
"Enough," the king said suddenly, his voice loud and final. "Take him to the sanctum. Now. Seal the doors until the priests finish the rites."
The guards hesitated, but the steward's glare spurred them into motion. They lifted Kael again and carried him out of the throne room. The doors closed behind them with a hollow sound that echoed through the chamber.
For a moment, no one breathed.
Equito stood perfectly still. The sound of the rain outside filled the silence.
The king's voice came again, lower now. "Equito."
She turned to face him.
"When the rites are done," he said, "I want you to remain with the priests. You are to ensure there are no further… disturbances." His eyes were tired, but beneath them was something sharp. "If this is some trick of the cult that took him, it will end tonight."
Equito bowed her head. "Yes, Your Majesty."
The king turned away, climbing the steps to his throne again.
The nobles began to disperse in uneasy silence.
Equito waited until the hall emptied before moving. Her armor felt heavier with every step. She could still see the faint glimmer in Kael's eyes burned behind her own lids when she blinked.
The sanctum awaited.