Far away in the frozen heart of Drakoria Palace, the night was heavy with silence. Once, the very mention of King Theron Ravencrest's name had sent nations trembling. But now, the conqueror who dreamed of bending the world beneath his will lay draped across a velvet sofa, shadows clinging to his pale, weary frame. The air in his chamber was unnaturally cold, as though the stones of the palace itself were mourning their master's waning power.
A ragged cough tore through his throat before he spoke, his voice hoarse yet carrying the steel of command."For now… my mission must end here, Soren. The dream my grandfather carved into my blood will have to wait. I no longer have the strength to see it through."
At his side stood Soren Draegor, ever-loyal, his silver-flecked eyes sharp with both concern and calculation."My lord, that is why I begged you to stay your hand the night you slew the Queen. I warned you—you were bound by the soul-contract of marriage. Her blood was your tether. Killing her would tear half your strength away. Yet you did not heed me."
Theron's hand tightened against the carved armrest, frustration burning through his weakness."I know, Soren. I know I have erred. But what torments me is not the loss of power—it is the mystery. Why… why did the Ancient Magic not awaken with the Twin Stones? They vanished—vanished the moment they touched the Codex. The book… rejected me."
Soren's voice was careful, measured, like a blade drawn slow from its sheath."My lord, by every law of arcana, there is but one possibility. The stones were false. If they dissolved upon contact, they were never true vessels. Someone deceived you."
Theron stilled, his gaze narrowing with sudden realization."If that is truth, then the green stone I claimed from Lysira's corpse was nothing but a counterfeit. That wretched witch tricked me even in death."
But his voice faltered, and the fury in his eyes dimmed to a shadow of confusion."And yet… the blue stone. That was real. I know it—my grandfather pressed it into my palm with his dying breath. If the blue was true, then why… why did it vanish with the green?"
Soren had no answer. The firelight flickered across his grim face, shadows dancing like restless spirits on the walls.
At last, Soren leaned forward, his tone low, heavy with suspicion."I can draw no conclusion, my lord, unless you tell me precisely what transpired that night in the Ministry's Library. Did you meet anyone there?"
The hesitation in Theron's breath betrayed the truth before his words did."Yes… I met him. Aurelius Dreymark."
Soren's eyes blazed, their faint silver light cutting through the dim chamber."The Headmaster himself?"
"Yes, Soren. He stood before the Codex. He… he did not stop me from attempting the ritual."
For a long moment, silence gripped the room. The only sound was the distant howl of the Drakorian winds rattling the frozen towers.
Theron's lips curled into a grimace, caught between anger and bitter amusement."No… he did not stop me. Instead, he said this: The book will open only for the rightful bearer. If I am not the one, the stones will be taken, and I will be left with nothing."
Theron's voice fell to a whisper, ragged with fury and the shadow of fear."And so it was, Soren. The stones are gone. The Codex remains sealed. And for the first time… I wonder if destiny itself denies me."
Soren's voice cut through the silence like a measured blade."My lord… are you saying you believe the words of Headmaster Dreymark?"
Theron's pale eyes flickered with a dangerous light. His voice was low, almost confessional."What happened in that library… it mirrors his claim. And yet…" His hand trembled as it tightened on the velvet armrest. "If I recall my grandfather's words correctly, he told me this: the one who holds both stones may open the Codex—no matter who that person may be. That was his creed. His prophecy."
Theron's breath grew heavy, weighed with memory."But the truth… the truth is darker. At that time, even my grandfather could not open the Codex. That failure was the reason Drakoria fell to Calestra. He—our great king—was defeated by Aurelius Dreymark. And in that moment… the Codex did not consume the stones as it did with me. No. It vanished. Vanished into Dreymark's hands. Stolen."
Soren bowed his head, his tone respectful yet edged with sorrow."Yes, my lord. And that is why you joined Grimswald in your youth—to seek knowledge of the Codex hidden within its walls. But Dreymark was no fool. When he discerned your purpose, he had the Codex moved to the Ministry under the eye of Minister Crassus."
"Yes…" Theron whispered, his voice rough, eyes clouded with both fury and remembrance. "Yes, you are right, Soren. That day my grandfather gave me the blue stone. And he swore: only the true heir of Drakoria may wield it. If the blue stone has now been taken, then it means… it means I alone may reclaim it. I must find it again. After that, I will hunt for the green."
A silence fell—cold, sharp, dangerous.
Soren hesitated, then spoke, his words careful, almost reluctant."My lord… forgive me. What I speak may wound your pride. But truth does not bend even for kings."
Theron turned his gaze upon him—eyes like burning coals, heavy with warning. But he remained silent.
And Soren continued."There is… another. Another who may bear the stone."
Theron froze, disbelief flashing across his face."You dare…?" His voice was low, almost a growl. Then sharper: "You mean to say—Kalen? That boy might bear the heir's stone?"
Soren did not falter. He inclined his head, silver eyes gleaming faintly in the firelight."Yes, my lord. By blood, he has claim. And by destiny… perhaps the stone recognizes him as well."
Theron's fury warred with thought, with the gnawing weight of possibility. Then at last, with a sudden motion, he rose from the sofa, his weakened form trembling yet filled with command."Send for the knight. The one who cast Kalen from this palace by my decree. Tell him this: bring the boy back. Bring him back to Drakoria."