Peace never lasts.
For weeks after the awakening, the Kingdom of Xendor was filled with celebration. The streets were alive with music, laughter, and stories passed from one person to another.
They spoke of the divine light.
Of the spirit that had answered the call.
Of the youngest prince—
Ryan Xendor.
To the people, it was a blessing.
A sign that their kingdom was favored by fate itself.
But beneath the surface…
Something darker was moving.
Watching.
Waiting.
Far beyond the borders of Xendor, where the influence of the kingdom could not easily reach, silence ruled the land.
Hidden within that silence—
Armies gathered.
Not openly.
Not boldly.
But in secrecy.
Soldiers moved at night, their armor covered to avoid reflecting light. Supply lines were established in remote locations. Messages were passed not by couriers, but through coded signals and trusted intermediaries.
All of it…
Carefully planned.
Carefully hidden.
All of it leading toward a single moment.
At the center of it all—
Stood one man.
Drake Xendor.
The king's elder brother.
The man who should have worn the crown.
He stood before a group of foreign generals, each representing different kingdoms, their expressions wary but intrigued. Maps were spread across the table between them, marked with symbols, routes, and positions.
Drake's eyes were cold.
Filled not with anger—
But with certainty.
"I built this kingdom just as much as he did," Drake said, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the tension.
No one interrupted.
"And yet…" he continued, his gaze darkening, "I was cast aside."
His fingers pressed against the map, directly over the capital of Xendor.
"They called it the will of the people."
A faint scoff escaped him.
"But the people… are fools."
Silence followed.
The generals exchanged glances, but none dared to speak.
Drake slowly lifted his head.
A cruel smile formed on his face.
"But tonight…"
His voice dropped even lower.
"That mistake will be corrected."
The attack came without warning.
One moment, the capital slept under the quiet cover of night.
The next—
Sirens shattered the silence.
Loud.
Urgent.
Relentless.
Explosions tore through the outer walls, sending shockwaves across the city. Flames erupted into the sky, casting an eerie orange glow over the kingdom that had once felt untouchable.
"Enemy attack!"
"They've breached the eastern gate!"
"Enemy forces approaching from the north!"
"Wake the civilians!"
"Move! Move!"
Chaos spread instantly.
Soldiers rushed from their posts, grabbing weapons and forming defensive lines. Citizens poured into the streets, confusion and fear written across their faces as they tried to understand what was happening.
Orders were shouted.
Weapons drawn.
Magic ignited.
The kingdom that had stood unchallenged for generations…
Was under attack.
At the center of it all—
King Keith stood.
Fully armored.
Unmoving.
His expression remained calm despite the destruction unfolding around him. The distant sounds of battle echoed through the palace, but his focus never wavered.
"So it begins," he said quietly.
Behind him, Jason stepped forward.
"I will lead the eastern defense," the eldest prince said without hesitation.
There was no fear in his voice.
Only resolve.
Ellen followed immediately after.
"I'll take the western front."
Her tone was sharp.
Focused.
Keith turned slightly, looking at both of them.
For a brief moment—
He wasn't a king.
He was a father.
Then the moment passed.
He nodded.
"Go."
They didn't wait.
Both turned and rushed out, their figures disappearing into the chaos beyond the palace walls.
"Remember," Keith called after them, his voice carrying authority that cut through everything.
"Protect the people first."
The battlefield was a storm.
Steel clashed against steel.
Magic collided in bursts of light and destruction.
Fire met ice.
Lightning tore through the sky.
The ground trembled beneath the weight of war as soldiers fought with everything they had.
Screams mixed with battle cries.
The air was thick with smoke and blood.
Ellen moved through it all like a shadow.
Precise.
Controlled.
Every movement calculated.
Her blade struck with efficiency, her magic used only when necessary. She didn't waste energy. She didn't make mistakes.
But even as she fought—
Her mind was elsewhere.
Analyzing.
Watching.
Something felt wrong.
"This isn't just an invasion…" she muttered under her breath.
Her eyes scanned the battlefield again.
The enemy formations.
The movements.
The patterns.
Then—
She saw it.
They weren't pushing forward.
They weren't trying to overwhelm the defenses.
They were spreading out.
Dividing attention.
Creating chaos.
Her eyes widened.
"They're not trying to conquer…"
A sudden realization struck her like lightning.
"They're distracting us."
Her heart skipped.
"The palace…!"
Without hesitation, she turned sharply.
"To the Knight Commander!" she called.
The man rushed to her side.
"Take control here," Ellen ordered, her voice firm and urgent.
"I'm returning to the palace."
Before he could respond—
She was already gone.
Inside the palace—
The atmosphere was tense.
Too quiet compared to the chaos outside.
Queen Elara stood near one of the inner chambers, her gaze fixed on the doors as distant explosions echoed through the walls.
Beside her—
Ryan.
The boy clung tightly to her, his small hands gripping her dress.
Fear was written clearly across his face.
"Mother…" he whispered, his voice trembling.
"What's happening?"
Elara knelt down, bringing herself to his level.
Her expression was calm.
Gentle.
She placed a hand on his head, brushing his hair softly.
"It will be alright."
Her voice was steady.
Reassuring.
But deep inside—
She knew.
That wasn't true.
Suddenly—
The doors burst open.
Ellen rushed in, her breathing uneven from the speed at which she had moved.
"Mother," she said urgently, "we need to leave. Now."
There was no time to explain.
No time to hesitate.
Elara's expression shifted slightly.
She understood immediately.
But before they could move—
A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the hall.
Sharp.
Mocking.
"Well done, Ellen."
The voice was familiar.
Too familiar.
Both of them froze.
From the shadows—
He stepped forward.
Drake Xendor.
Surrounded by soldiers.
His presence alone felt suffocating.
"I expected nothing less from you," he said, his smile cold.
Ellen's expression hardened instantly.
Her body tensed, ready to strike at any moment.
"What do you gain from this?" she demanded.
Drake tilted his head slightly.
"Asking that question…"
His smile widened.
"Means you already understand the answer."
His gaze shifted briefly toward Ryan.
Then back to Ellen.
"Everything."
The temperature in the room suddenly dropped.
Frost began to spread across the floor, creeping outward like a living thing.
The air grew cold.
Heavy.
Elara stepped forward.
Her eyes glowed faintly, a soft light forming within them.
The calm queen was gone.
In her place stood something far more dangerous.
"Take Ryan and go," she said.
Ellen hesitated.
"Mother—"
"That is an order."
The words were firm.
Final.
There was no room for argument.
Elara reached up and removed a small pin from her hair.
It seemed insignificant.
Ordinary.
But the moment it came off—
A faint pulse of energy spread through the room.
Subtle.
Yet powerful.
"Find Leo," she said.
Her voice softened just slightly.
"And run."
And in that moment—
The fate of everything began to change.