The banquet hall glittered beneath chandeliers of cut crystal, laughter and wine flowing freely in celebration of the recent victory over the border incursion. But Flynn stood still, watching the crowd with narrowed eyes. The music rang hollow in his ears. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Seated at the high table, Duke Khalid raised his goblet in a toast, eyes sweeping across the room with his usual poised charm. Five years. It had been five years since Caelan's blood stained Khalid's blade and now Flynn, the vessel of that same soul, wore the crown of Winterbell, seated in a palace Khalid now called home.
No one knew.
No one suspected that the prince of Winterbell was once the common-born knight of Elaris, betrayed and left for dead.
"You're unusually quiet tonight," said Elior, seated beside him. The sharp-eyed nobleman leaned in, studying Flynn's unreadable face. "Planning your escape already?"
Flynn gave a shallow smile. "Only escaping boredom."
A servant passed behind them, but Flynn stiffened. A flicker movement at the edge of his sight. A glint of steel beneath the tray?
His instincts screamed. Flynn stood sharply, hand flying to the dagger at his belt.
Too late.
A crashing sound, followed by a scream, shattered the celebration. A cloaked figure lunged from the shadows near the eastern doors, flinging something into the air. Smoke exploded, plunging the room into chaos.
Guards rushed in, swords drawn, but the attacker was fast unnaturally fast. Flynn pushed Elior down and drew his blade.
"Stay behind me!"
The assassin's eyes glowed faintly red in the smoke, feral and unblinking. Not a man. Not entirely. Flynn met the strike, the blades clashing in a sharp ring.
He recognized this speed the unnatural strength. Just like the dark beasts plaguing Elaris before its fall.
"What are you?" he hissed.
The figure gave no answer, only let out a growl, retreating in a blur of shadow. Flynn gave chase, cutting through smoke and panicked guests, but the intruder vanished into the palace halls.
By the time the guards had swept the area, only the signs of forced entry and a cryptic message etched into the wall remained:
"The flame beneath the crown still burns."
Later, alone in his chambers, Flynn stared at the words carved into stone. Something more was happening. The demonic presence he thought it had died with Elaris.
But now it was here, in Winterbell.
And Khalid… Khalid had served the very kingdom that birthed this darkness.
Flynn clenched his jaw.
Was this the start of something deeper? Or a message meant for him?
No answers came, only a quiet knock at his door. It was Lucian.
"Brother," Lucian said, worry in his eyes. "You weren't hurt, were you?"
Flynn shook his head. "No. But something tells me we were meant to be."
---