The massive gates of crystal opened slowly, their surface gleaming with streams of silver energy. Ariv's eyes widened as a gust of cool wind brushed against his face. This was no ordinary hall—this was the heart of Aethrion, the realm spoken of only in whispers.
The four friends stepped inside together: Ariv at the front, Vaishnavi on his left, Neel and Rohit trailing behind. Every footstep echoed softly across the polished floor, which shimmered as though starlight had been woven into stone. Enormous pillars lined the hall, etched with ancient runes glowing faintly in hues of blue and gold. Suspended high above, luminous veils of energy floated like fragments of galaxies. The sheer magnitude of the place stole their breath.
And yet, it wasn't the beauty that made the room feel heavy—it was the silence. The kind of silence that feels alive, that presses down like a weight. Nobles and soldiers stood in neat rows, clad in radiant silver armor. Their gazes were fixed forward, but Ariv could feel it: eyes flicking to him. Whispering hearts beating in sync with fear.
Why are they staring at me like this? Ariv thought, his fists tightening unconsciously. The faint glow of his aura had started again, even though he wasn't trying to release anything. He gritted his teeth and reminded himself: Calm down… the locket might be gone, but I can't lose control here.
The murmurs started.
"That pressure… it feels like a storm."
"Is he… truly human?"
Ariv caught pieces of their hushed tones. He hated it. That same feeling—like the air changed whenever he walked in. Like he didn't belong here.
---
The Kneeling Parents
At the far end of the hall, his eyes fell on something that froze him in his tracks. Rows of kneeling figures—ordinary people among all the grandeur. And among them, familiar faces.
"Mom?" The word tore from his lips before he could stop himself. He strode forward, ignoring Neel's warning glance, until he was standing right in front of her. His mother knelt gracefully, her head lowered, wearing the same calm expression she always had.
"Mom… why are you kneeling?" His voice was sharp, almost breaking the heavy silence.
She looked up at him with soft eyes that held a storm of emotions. "Because this is the law here," she whispered gently. "Stay quiet, Ariv. Please."
"But—"
Her fingers brushed against his hand—just a brief touch, but enough to silence him. Not because of force… but because of the unspoken plea in her eyes.
---
The Voice from Beyond
Before he could speak again, the hall trembled faintly as a voice rolled across the space—smooth as silk, yet carrying a weight that could shatter steel.
"Welcome to Aethrion."
Every head lowered further, except for Ariv and his friends, who instinctively turned toward the sound. The voice came from behind a sheer veil of energy at the throne's end. A figure sat there—indistinct, like a silhouette behind glowing mist.
"You have endured the trials," the voice continued, echoing with calm authority. "But your journey is far from over. Those who hold power must learn control. For power without restraint is chaos."
Ariv felt the words sink into him like molten metal.
Control… huh. Easy for you to say when you're not breaking things just by breathing.
The voice shifted slightly, a note of command in it now:
"Training begins immediately. Ariv…" The sound of his name in that tone sent a strange chill down his spine. "Your energy needs restraint beyond any measure. Your mother will guide you."
Ariv blinked, thrown off. My mother? He turned slightly to look at her. She didn't meet his eyes but gave the smallest nod, her lips curved in something between pride and worry.
---
The Quiet Exchange
As they left the center of the hall, the four gathered near one of the towering pillars. Vaishnavi let out a long breath she'd been holding.
"Why do I feel like we just walked into another world of secrets?" she muttered, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"You're only realizing that now?" Rohit's smirk was weak, but at least he was trying. "That voice… it didn't even sound… old. Sounded like—"
"Someone young," Vaishnavi finished his sentence, lowering her voice instinctively. She tilted her head toward Ariv. "What do you think?"
Ariv shrugged, his tone casual but edged with curiosity. "If that's true… if the Queen's really younger than us, then what kind of world is this?"
---
The Sharp Warning
Their hushed voices barely reached the ground before a shadow fell over them. Rudraen stood there, arms crossed, his expression carved from stone.
"Silence." His voice cracked like a whip. The air itself seemed to flinch. "This is not the place for childish questions. You'll understand in time."
For a long second, no one dared move. Ariv's eyes met Rudraen's—and for the briefest moment, he saw something there. Not anger. Not disdain. But something else. Like… conflict. And maybe, just maybe, pity.
---
The Hook
As Rudraen turned to lead them deeper into the corridors, the scene cut back to the veiled throne. Behind the shimmering curtain, the Queen sat with her chin resting on her palm, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"They're curious," she murmured to herself, voice carrying the playful lilt of someone far younger than a ruler was expected to sound. Her eyes glimmered with something unreadable.
"Curious… and dangerous."
To be continued…