"You burnt my son!"
Vashti, the queen of Stormholt, stood tall in her seductively regal attire as she berated the bastard son of Aurelius.
"I will flay your flesh and feed it to the dogs you worthless scum!" She continued, her rage adding a horrific undertone to the heavy makeup plastered on her face.
She'd heard earlier of what had happened at the courtyard, but was shocked at the sight she beheld. Kai had so many burn marks that he was barely recognizable.
The perpetrator, Kion, stood before her. He hadn't said anything since he'd gotten to the throne room, and that annoyed her even more.
She already hated him so much, but just when she decided to look away from his corner and let bygones be bygones, he went ahead and roasted her child with hot raw flames.
"This is regicide!" She yelled as she turned to King Aurelius, who sat beside her in silence.
"He deserves to be hanged on the gallows!"
"That's enough." Aurelius' voice boomed, instantly silencing Vashti, who grumbled as she settled deeper into her chair.
Meanwhile, the king rose from his throne.
Everyone instantly began to feel it.
The stifling aura.
Even the throne room knights and bodyguards, who had been trained to withstand such conditions, shifted uneasily in their armour.
Ironically, it wasn't just the king's aura that caused the tension in the throne room to skyrocket…
It was that the king ever hardly stood up from his chair, and doing so surely meant that something bad was coming. He only stood up from his seat when he was about to give orders for a beheading, or for an entire squadron of soldiers to be massacred.
Ironically, to the confusion of everyone present, Aurelius laughed, something no one had expected.
It wasn't just that it the simple act of laughing didn't fit the situation, but that the king barely ever laughed in the history of his reign, as almost nothing amused him.
But here he was, letting out a hearty chuckle that echoed within the chambers of the throne room.
"These are the sort of spectacles I enjoy.
Aurelius' words rolled through the throne room like thunder, followed by another dry laugh that grated against the silence. He looked down at Vashti, her chest heaving with fury, her eyes blazing with maternal wrath, and then at Kion, who stood motionless, his expression blank yet defiant.
The air remained heavy, charged with the king's aura, pressing down on everyone and making it harder to breathe.
Vashti trembled with suppressed rage, but even she knew not to speak further. Her husband's laughter was not a sign of amusement—it was a warning that his patience balanced on the edge of a blade.
"You would let this insult go unpunished?" she finally dared to mutter, though her voice lacked the force from earlier. "Kai was nearly burned alive, Aurelius. The bastard meant to kill him!"
"Bastard or not, he is my son," Aurelius replied, his tone suddenly sharp, silencing her again. "And so is Kai."
He stepped closer, his boots echoing against the marble floor, and all eyes followed him with unease. The king's long cloak dragged behind him, heavy with embroidered crests of the royal house—dragons, wolves, and spears interwoven in a unique tapestry.
"You look at them as rivals, Vashti," Aurelius said as he passed her, his voice calm but laced with iron. "But I look at them as sharpened blades. What is a blade without fire and clash? Nothing but a brittle piece of steel that shatters in battle."
His gaze swept across the throne room, falling on Kion.
"You did well to strike," Aurelius said, his lips curling in the ghost of a smile. "You did well to endure," he added, looking at Kai, who, although had healed quite nicely, still had fresh scars.
"And what of the boy's life?" Vashti pressed again, but her tone was more careful now.
"If he dies from fire, then he was never worthy to stand in the storm," Aurelius replied coldly. "If he survives, then he will rise stronger. That is how my bloodline has always been forged."
Kai finally stirred. He had wanted Kion to get punished for harming him, the crowned heir, but hadn't quite expected such a response from his father.
"So this is your lesson, Father? To make us maim each other until one is left standing?" He asked.
The throne room guards tensed at the brazenness of his tone. Vashti's eyes lit with a flicker of disapproval, beckoning him to hold his tongue lest Aurelius strike him down for such insolence.
But Kai didn't care much. He needed to know what it was the king wanted, or expected of him. Kion had shown him he was not someone to be messed with, but he wasn't sure the bastard boy had been given a proper introduction to him, Kai Everglade.
To his slightest surprise, the king only laughed again, his voice booming like a drum.
"You speak like a child, Kai. You think war will wait for you to grow into men, to sing you lullabies while you sleep? No. War comes when it pleases, and only those who are ruthless survive it. You two are not children anymore. You will not be coddled. You will not be spared from blood."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Even the braziers flickered as though cowed by the king's aura.
Finally, Aurelius turned, lifting a hand.
"Shaman."
From the shadows near the far end of the throne room, a cloaked figure stepped forward. His staff clinked against the stone floor, the runes carved into its surface glowing faintly. His long, beaded braids swayed as he walked with deliberate steps, and the scent of incense seemed to follow him like a second skin.
Shaman, just like the King, had an air about him, but not quite as suffocating.
The court fell utterly silent as the old man approached, as most of the noblemen within knew what this was about.
Shaman bowed low before the king, then produced a scroll sealed with wax.
Kion eyes instantly widened. He had noticed the scroll earlier when he was at Shaman's workshop, but hadn't thought much on it. Now, with everyone here, he had an idea what it was about, and he wasn't sure he liked that idea one bit.
"Here, Sire," Shaman said, his raspy voice reverberating in the chamber. "The Port Tabara mission."
Aurelius took the scroll, broke the seal, and unfurled it. His eyes scanned the parchment for a moment, though in truth he already knew its contents. His smile widened.
"Your first quest," he announced, his voice echoing across the hall.
Kion's eyes narrowed. Kai raised an eyebrow. Even Vashti leaned forward, her painted face expressing her dissatisfaction through its layers of rouge.
"There is a seaside town two days' ride from here," Aurelius continued. "A quiet place… or it was, until recently. The locals have begun behaving strangely. At night, they wander in trances toward the shore, as though called by some siren. Those who return from the coast never return the same."
He paused, his eyes sharp with intrigue.
"They emerge as something else entirely. Their flesh twisted, their minds gone, their veins black with mana. Greitors."
The word slithered across the hall like poison. Several guards shifted nervously, their hands tightening on their weapons.
Greitors. Abominations born when humans succumbed to extreme mana poisoning, their bodies corrupted beyond recognition. They were stronger than men, crueler than beasts, and hated the living with blind hunger. Entire villages had been destroyed by a single Greitor outbreak.
Vashti gasped softly. "You would send them there? They'll be slaughtered!"
"That is the point," Aurelius said smoothly. "To either slaughter, or be slaughtered. A man is forged only when he stares death in the face and refuses to blink."
He looked directly at Kion, his stare piercing. "You crave power? Earn it. You crave honor? Bleed for it. This is no court squabble where words matter. This is the world as it is—raw and merciless."
Then his gaze turned to Kai. "You, boy… if you have strength left after being scorched, prove you are not just your mother's shield. Prove you are of my blood."
Kai's face twisted with pain and fury. He said nothing, but the look in his eyes was enough.
Shaman stepped forward again, extending the scroll. "This letter bears the royal seal. When you arrive in the town of Port Tabara, you will present it to the mayor. He will give you access to the afflicted sites."
His gaze shifted between both sons, sharp as a hawk's. "But beware. These are not ordinary sicknesses. There is corruption at work deeper than mere mana poisoning. Something stirs beneath the tides."
A murmur rippled through the court at his ominous words.
Aurelius smiled cruelly. "So, my sons… your first trial is set. Port Tabara awaits. Return with answers, or return not at all."
Shaman handed the scroll to Kai. As custom demanded, the older prince was to be the leader of the mission. Kai, however, didn't seem at all thrilled to be handling something like that.
"Leave at first light. Your King has spoken," Aurelius commanded, his tone final.
The knights thumped their spears in acknowledgment, though unease was written on many faces.
Vashti, however, rose suddenly. Her fury had not faded, only simmered beneath the surface. She rushed to Kai's side, cupping his scarred face.
"You will not go," she hissed under her breath, but loud enough for Aurelius to hear. "You're in no condition. Let the bastard die alone."
Kai clenched his jaw, pushing her hands away. For all his pain, for all his injuries, the fire in his eyes had not dimmed.
"I'll go," he rasped, his voice hoarse but resolute. "If I stay behind, I'll never hear the end of it. I'll prove myself."
Vashti's painted lips trembled with fury and fear. She glared at Aurelius, but the king only smirked.
"That is my son," Aurelius said proudly.
Kion said nothing, but deep inside, his resolve wavered. This was no ordinary test. He especially hadn't even gotten the chance to train or meditate properly. In truth, this was a suicide mission, as Kion was sure they would encounter danger beasts well above their ranks in battle, as well as the murder-hungry Greitors that even soldiers were afraid of.
It seemed though, that his father wasn't sending them to "learn.", but straight to their deaths. And yet… something in him stirred at the thought. A chance to measure himself against true darkness.
The throne room began to disperse, courtiers whispering nervously, guards exchanging glances, servants rushing to tend to Kai. But Aurelius remained standing, his eyes fixed on his sons as though they were pawns he had set on a board.
Conflict. Struggle. Blood.
This was how kings were forged.
And if they both died?
Then they were never worthy of the crown to begin with.