After five long years away from the world, Jyn Argren returned.
He stood at the edge of the road leading down from the mountain—his body taller, stronger, and his features colder than before. The boy who once trembled before defeat was gone. His eyes, sharper and darker now, carried the weight of battles fought in silence—not against enemies, but against himself.
The old scar near his right eye remained, a reminder of a lesson etched into his skin during training with his father. It was the one thing unchanged.
Clad in a black cloak, Jyn approached the gates of the Argren family palace. The guards froze at his sight—then bowed once they recognized the rightful heir, the Champion of Honor.
Whispers spread through the palace corridors.
"He's back…"
"After five years…"
"He's grown…"
But behind the royal walls, something far darker was already taking shape.
Inside, the Argren palace was not as Jyn had left it. The walls seemed colder, and the faces that once smiled at him were now stiff, cautious. He passed through servants and knights, but few dared meet his gaze.
"Tell my grandfather I've returned," he said quietly, yet with authority.
King Aldric Argren, his grandfather, had not seen him since that night when Jyn won the Honor Tournament. Since then, Jyn had vanished with his father into the mountains after the Seven Legendary Swords were secured away—each returned to its rightful nation.
Jyn's sword was not Elthan; he had returned to the mountain carrying a simple yet sharp blade forged by a master smith of Valmire—plain but resolute, much like his spirit.
His training over those years was not just physical—it was spiritual, internal, and transformative.
He was no longer a mere boy returning to the palace.
He was a warrior… no, something greater.
When he entered the throne room, he found his grandfather seated as if nothing had changed. The crown of Valmire rested upon Aldric's head, his eyes watching silently—harsh and lacking the warmth Jyn once knew.
"I have returned, grandfather," Jyn said, bowing respectfully despite the chill in the air.
"Your stance is heavier… and your eyes no longer belong to a child," the king replied after a long pause.
Jyn remained silent. He knew words no longer mattered. What mattered was what would follow this meeting.
The king motioned with his hand, and a large man in formal attire stepped forward, the emblem of the kingdom on his chest.
"This is Kilma Kraus, the new commander of the royal guard. He has been strengthening the palace from within and securing the kingdom's borders," the king said before lowering his voice, "There are many threats, Jyn… and your absence left a void."
Jyn stared into Kilma's cold eyes.
There was something unsettling about this man.
Kilma's voice was stern:
"I have heard much about you, Lord Jyn. It pleases me to see the Champion of Honor finally return from seclusion. But… the palace has changed greatly in your absence, and you will not find it easy to adapt."
Jyn smiled faintly, replying with cold confidence:
"I do not adapt… I overturn the balance."
A light silence settled before the king spoke:
"There are matters you must review, and I will rely on you to restore order in the capital. But be cautious, Jyn… some doors, once opened, do not close easily."
Jyn nodded and glanced around the hall. The banners, the soldiers, the decorations—everything was as he left it, yet a heavy feeling pressed on his heart.
Something had changed.
He did not yet know that the threat was not outside the palace—but within.
After leaving the main hall, a silent guard led Jyn to the southern wing, where his father, Ardan Argren, had often stayed away from the noise of politics and council chambers. Jyn's steps were heavy—not from fear, but from the gravity of the moment.
Five years had passed—years in which he had not heard his father's voice, only memories.
He reached the door, raised his hand, hesitated briefly, then knocked.
"Enter."
The voice was the same—deep, steady, but tinged with weariness.
He opened the door slowly and stepped inside.
Ardan sat near the window. His hair was grayer, and a new scar marked his left brow. Slowly, he turned, eyes locking on his son.
Silence. No words spoken.
Then the father stood and walked toward him, slow but confident steps.
"You have grown, Jyn."
"And you… have not changed."
Without warning, Ardan embraced him fiercely, as if finally breathing after a long drowning.
"I knew you would return… but not like this."
Jyn smiled softly and whispered:
"I am no longer who I was, father."
Ardan's eyes tightened, his face calm:
"Neither is this world…"
Jyn stepped back, looking at the man who carried both sorrow and strength.
"I have changed greatly, father. I do not want to be just an heir or a knight fighting for a title—I want to restore what our family and kingdom have lost."
Ardan's eyes shone and he said,
"Five years in the mountains. No one knows what you endured or learned."
"True," Jyn said confidently, "but every minute forged who I am now. The mana in my heart is stronger, and the politics and betrayals surrounding us clearer."
Ardan sat down beside the window, continuing,
"Time has not stopped, my son. Shadows are stirring, and betrayals may shatter what remains of our kingdom."
Jyn smiled sadly:
"I am ready, father. This time I will not be a bystander."
That moment marked a new beginning for father and son, where determination met danger, and the true chapter of their battle to reclaim glory began.
Ardan smiled slowly, "The road ahead is perilous, and the enemy is not always visible. Trust your wisdom and strength—but more importantly, surround yourself with allies who will stand by you in the darkest times."
Jyn raised his head firmly:
"I have trained and learned how to read people and sense danger. I will not repeat past mistakes."
They fell silent briefly before Ardan said,
"I will support you, but you must know that Jyn Argren's return to the palace will stir many storms… both inside and out."
Jyn looked to the palace window where the sun was setting behind the mountains and said,
"This is the time of the storm. I am no longer the child who left this palace five years ago."
Their eyes met, and both knew the coming battle would be greater and fiercer than any sword fight.
Jyn left the hall with confident steps, ready to face whatever awaited him on the path to restore Valmire's glory—but he felt the weight of gazes following him from every corner of the palace. After a long absence, not everyone welcomed him warmly. Whispers filled the halls, suspicious looks came from guards and nobles alike.
In the great palace hall, he met Nora, his faithful friend who never left his side through the years. She smiled and said,
"Finally, you're back. Everyone is waiting for you to be our hope."
Jyn nodded, his eyes burning with true resolve:
"I will not fail you. Valmire will rise again, no matter the cost."
But deep within the palace, someone watched his every step with cold eyes. Behind the curtain, General Kilma Kraus followed the news with an icy gaze, planning every move, knowing that Jyn's rise could rewrite the balance of power—but she would not let him walk his path easily.
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