The halls of the Citadel were no longer silent. They pulsed—beneath every stone, behind every torch—with whispers. The prophecy had not only stirred fear but unearthed what should have stayed buried. And while the Elders planned in secret corners, another truth waited in shadows.
Renak had returned to his quarters under the guise of exhaustion, but his heart thundered. In his hand was a crumpled parchment found in Silas's hidden study, wedged beneath a loose stone and guarded by layers of wards no ordinary eye could detect.
The seal had long been broken, but the ink still bled.
A letter never meant for council eyes.
> The heir lives. The seal did not bind him completely. His name was etched in blood beside the sigil of the First House, but I have removed it. No one must know. If the prophecy holds true, then both bloodlines are doomed, and the veil will not hold.
Lucian's name had been violently scratched out—so deep the parchment tore.
Renak's lips parted. "You weren't just their weapon," he whispered into the candlelight. "You were their king."
---
Meanwhile, on the balcony of Lucian's chamber, Kyrell stood with his back against the cool stone, arms wrapped around himself. The night pressed against the windows like it was listening.
Lucian joined him, silence hanging between them—not cold, but thick with unspoken weight.
"You feel it too," Kyrell murmured. "Like something old is waking."
Lucian nodded. "And it's tied to us both. To whatever blood burns in me… and whatever ancient thing stirs in you."
Kyrell turned to him. "If they find out about your lineage—"
"They already suspect."
Kyrell's voice dropped. "They'll come for you."
Lucian reached for him, pulling him gently into his arms. "Then let them. Let them try."
Kyrell didn't flinch anymore when Lucian touched him. He leaned in, letting his head rest against Lucian's shoulder. "We can't lose now. Not when I finally understand what this… all of this… was for."
Lucian's voice was low. "You were never ruin, Kyrell. You were the warning they ignored. The balance they tried to silence. And I… I was never just theirs. I was something they feared too much to crown."
"Then we burn the lie," Kyrell whispered. "And build something new from the ashes."
---
Renak's footsteps echoed through the stone corridor, parchment tucked under his cloak. He didn't go to the council. He went to the place where choices were no longer dictated by fear.
To Lucian.
He found them on the balcony, cloaked in wind and moonlight.
Lucian met his gaze. "You found something."
Renak's hand trembled as he extended the paper. "Silas lied. He hid this from all of us. You are heir to the First Blood. The line that ruled before the Council ever existed."
Kyrell's eyes widened, but Lucian didn't move.
Renak went on. "They erased your name from history. The prophecy—Kyrell's awakening—wasn't the end. It was the beginning. And you, Lucian… you were never meant to serve. You were meant to reign."
The wind howled.
Lucian took the letter and stared at the seal. Faint. Faded. But still burning.
"Then we rewrite the ending," he said.
And beside him, Kyrell smiled—not the boy who ran from his fate, but the man ready to fight for it.
---