The Mana Throne hummed with a low, anxious frequency only King Darzan could feel. At sixty, the weight of the crystal and the crown bowed his spine. Before him stood General Zed, a statue of grim efficiency, and his children.
Prince Saizen, eighteen, lounged against the dais, spinning a jeweled dagger. Princess Saria, thirteen, stood quietly beside him, her gentle eyes watchful. She loved her brother despite his flaws, seeing the scared boy behind the spoiled prince. Saizen was fond of her in his distant way, a harmless, quiet creature in his glorious shadow.
"The targets are in the Kharman Woods, sire," Zed reported, his voice cutting the throne's hum. "The Witch Queen shelters them. The boy's shadow-power is awake, and now mixed with her bloodline. The Sun girl is with him. Together, they are an unstable weapon in a hostile hand."
King Darzan's gnarled hands tightened. "Arran's son… a repeat of the tragedy."
"Or its evolution," Zed said, planting fear with precision. "The witch gathers power at your border. My king, this cannot stand."
Saizen perked up. "A weapon? Can it be taken?"
"All things can be taken, Prince," Zed replied, not looking at him. "For the safety of the realm, they must be secured. Studied."
The king felt the throne's distress vibrate up his bones. He looked at Saria, her face pale with a understanding beyond her years. She would counsel caution, compassion. But the court, the tradition, the fear, they demanded strength. He was too old to fight both.
"Do it," the king sighed, the words tasting of ash. "Issue the decree. Bring them to the capital. If the witch resists… treat it as an act of war."
Zed bowed, hiding his triumph. "Your will be done."
As he left, Saizen followed, already dreaming of owning the powerful new toys. Saria moved to her father's side, her small hand covering his. The throne's hum softened slightly.
"He paints a dark picture, Father," she whispered.
"The world is dark, my child," Darzan murmured, staring at the empty doors where his general and heir had vanished. "And it grows darker."
The peace of the Kharman glade was shattered. Merinet stood before Kenji and Rina, her beautiful face a mask of cold fury. The air itself was sharp with her displeasure.
"The game is over," she said, her voice like cracking ice. "Your past has arrived with an army. You have one week."
Kenji's blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?"
Merinet turned her galactic eyes to Rina first. "Your tribe was not slaughtered for sport, Sun-Spark. They were the kingdom's librarians. They held secrets,the true lineage of kings, the sources of the Mana Throne's power, histories that could topple dynasties. Someone in that castle wanted them erased. Arran was the blade. But the hand that held it… was not the king's."
Rina's golden eyes burned. "Who?"
"That," Merinet said, "is a truth that still hides in shadow. But the order bore a royal seal. It came from the castle."
She then looked at Kenji, and her gaze softened only a fraction. "Your father's murder. The shadow you saw. It was no spirit. It was a Knight of the Royal Guard, using an artifact to mimic your father's own power. A message. And a cleanup."
Kenji felt the hollow in his chest blaze with a new, clarifying rage. Not a random monster. A soldier. A king's soldier.
"Why?" he demanded.
"Because Arran knew the order was a fraud. He discovered the truth after the blood was already on his hands. He was a loose end. As are you." Merinet's voice dropped. "General Zed marches at the head of that army. His decree is to bring you both back, 'for the safety of the realm.' To be cages and studied. Or dissected."
The pieces crashed together in Kenji's mind. Zed, who gave his father the order. Zed, who hunted them. Zed, who now came with the king's authority.
"He wants to finish what he started," Kenji breathed.
"He wants to own what he created," Merinet corrected. "You are both living weapons to him. And he will burn my woods to the ground to claim you."
She let the silence hang, heavy and terrible.
"You have a choice," she said. "Surrender to him. Spare my people a war. Or…"
"Or?" Rina's voice was a razor.
"Or you learn to fight. Not as children. Not as victims. As what you are. The last spark of the sun. The heir of shadow. And you help me defend this place." Merinet's eyes glowed. "And in doing so, you declare war on the kingdom that destroyed your families."
Kenji looked at Rina. In her eyes, he saw the same inferno that now raged in his own soul,a fire built from the ashes of their homes, their families, their stolen peace. It was no longer just about survival or even revenge.
It was about justice. And it demanded a pyre.
"We fight," Kenji said, the words final.
Rina nodded, a single, sharp movement. "We burn them back."
Merinet allowed herself a thin, terrifying smile. "Then your real training begins at dawn. Welcome to the war."