The morning sun didn't rise so much as it bled through the velvet curtains of Zaliyah's chambers, staining the floor a deep gold.
As the light touched the bed, Zaliyah stirred. His eyelids felt like they were made of lead. He raised a slender, trembling hand to cover his eyes, the sun feeling like a physical assault on his senses. With a pained groan, he rolled out of the heavy furs, his feet hitting the cold floor as he stumbled toward the window.
He yanked the curtains shut with a violent snap, plunging the room back into a dim twilight.
But the silence didn't bring peace.
A sudden, spike of agony lanced through his skull, originating from the center of his forehead where the celestial energy had gathered the day before. It felt as though someone was driving a wedge of ice into his brain. Zaliyah collapsed to his knees, his fingers digging into his scalp, his back arching as a raw loud scream escape from his throat.
The sound shattered the quiet of the private wing.
In the hallway, Iruna and Harun, who had been keeping a desperate vigil in the adjacent room, bolted toward the doors. Simultaneously, the air in the center of the chamber shivered and tore apart as Xulthas teleported into the room.
Xulthas was at Zaliyah's side in a heartbeat. His face, usually a mask of stone-cold indifference, was etched a strange uncharacteristic panic.
"Zaliyah, what's wrong? talk to me..... What's wrong? Where does it hurt?"
The Commander reached out, his large hands moving to steady Zaliyah's shaking shoulders, but the moment his skin touched Zaliyah's silk sleeve, the silver-haired man flinched as if he had been burned with a branding iron.
The memory of the carriage , the comparison to Malachi came flooding in Zaliyah's mind.
"Don't..." Zaliyah gasped. "Don't touch me!"
He scrambled backward on the floor, stumbling over his own robes, his hands still clamped over his head.
Xulthas followed him, his eyes pleading, his voice dropping into that soft low tone "Zaliyah... please. Let me help you. What is happening to you? What is wrong"
He extended an arm again, his fingers closing around Zaliyah's forearm to pull him up from the cold stone.
"I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!"
Zaliyah's eyes snapped open, glowing with an unstable violet light. A sudden, burst of energy radiated outward from his body , a shockwave of pure celestial rejection.
The force was so immense that Xulthas was lifted off his feet and flung across the room. His back hit the wall with a sickening thud, and he slumped to the floor, the wind knocked out of him.
At that exact moment, the doors burst open. Iruna and Harun froze in the doorway, their eyes darting from their master writhing on the floor to the Commander slumped against the wall.
"Your Highness!" Iruna shrieked. She didn't care about the Commander, she didn't care about the magical pressure in the room. She sprinted to Zaliyah's side, her loyalty overriding her fear.
She threw her arms around him, pulling his head onto her lap as he shook. "Your Highness... What's wrong? What happened? " She turned yelling to the commander "whst did you do to him ? Why is he in pain?"
Harun's hand went to his sword out of habit, but seeing the agony on Zaliyah's face, he turned on his heel. "Please stay still your highness.....I'm getting the physician" he said, his boots thundering down the hallway.
Xulthas remained on the floor where he had been thrown. He didn't try to stand. He didn't try to exert his authority. He simply sat there, his head bowed, helplessly watching the man he had agitated struggle to breathe.
The room was full of activities for the next hour. Harun returned, practically dragging the young physician by his robes.
The physician took one look at the unstable aura surrounding Zaliyah and immediately ushered everyone out.
"Out! All of you!" he barked. "Commander please leave"
The atmospheric pressure in here is enough to collapse a lung. Leave him to me"
The four of them—Xulthas, Thalassa who had arrived shortly after Iruna, and Harun stood in the hallway like scolded children. The graveyard silence was broken only by the muffled sounds of Zaliyah's labored breathing from behind the doors.
Finally, the physician emerged, wiping his brow with a silk handkerchief. Xulthas was on his feet instantly. "Well?"
"He has drifted back into a state of unconsciousness," the physician stated, his voice clinical but firm.
"Physically, he is perfectly fine. There is no permanent damage to his system."
"Then why the screaming?" Harun asked, his voice trembling with suppressed rage.
"Because, his core is undergoing a violent adaptation. He has just experienced a sudden, surge of power that his body was not prepared to house. Think of it like pouring a river into a tea cup. The cup doesn't break, but it overflows with heat. His body reached its limit, and the pain became so acute that his mind simply... powered off to protect itself."
The physician leveled a stern look at Xulthas. "He needs quiet. No stress. And under no circumstances is he to exert any magical force. If he tries to do anything involving magic before his pathways are healed, he won't just pass out. He will burn out."
As the physician walked away, a small, slapping sound echoed from the far end of the corridor.
Sylaris stumbled out of the shadows. Her chubby legs were bare, her small feet biting into the cold floor as she walked.
Her silk sleep-robes were loose, trailing on the ground, and she was rubbing her eyes with the back of one hand, her white hair a tangled nest of curls. She looked up at the line of worried adults, her bottom lip wobbling.
"No school today?" she asked, her voice small and confused.
Usually, the morning routine was a ritual. Zaliyah would wake her, dress her in her finest silks, brush her hair until it shone like silver, place a cute ribbon on it and walk her to the carriage. The absence of her father at her bedside had clearly unnerved her.
She looked past them at the closed doors. "Dada?"
Iruna's heart broke. She knelt down, scooping the child into her arms and tucking the girl's head under her chin. "Dada is just taking a long nap today, little warrior. He's very tired from the monsters yesterday."
"Dada not coming today?" Sylaris asked. A single fat tear rolled down her cheek. "He always comes. He promised."
Iruna didn't want the child to stand there staring at the door, waiting for a man who couldn't wake up. She could feel the child's grief radiating off her, a reminder of the bond between them. "Come on," Iruna whispered, turning the child away. "Let's go find some breakfast. We'll be late for your lessons."
Sylaris didn't fight her, but she kept her eyes glued to Zaliyah's chamber doors until Iruna turned the corner, her quiet sobs echoing in the hall.
Xulthas gave the doors one last glance. His expression was unreadable, but the set of his shoulders was slumped with a weight that no armor could protect him from. Without a word, he turned and walked in the opposite direction.
The day stretched into a stagnant blur. The sun moved across the sky, casting long shadows through the fortress, but inside Zaliyah chambers, time seemed to have stopped.
Xulthas found himself unable to stay away. He had passed the hallway countless times, listening for any sound from within. He blamed himself with every breath. He knew Zaliyah's history, he knew the scars Malachi had left weren't just on the skin, but in the very foundation of Zaliyah's identity. And he had used that knowledge like a weapon.
By the afternoon, Xulthas had given up the pretense of work. He sat elegantly in a velvet chaise placed directly opposite Zaliyah's bed, watching the rise and fall of the silver-haired man's chest. His legs were crossed, his back ramrod straight, and his reading glasses hung low on his nose as he tried to study a scroll of ancient runes. In reality, he hadn't read a single line in hours.
The door creaked open, and Thalassa stepped in. She didn't offer a report. She simply walked over and stood over the Commander, looking down at him with a mixture of pity and annoyance.
"You look more miserable than Sylaris," she teased, though her voice lacked its usual bite. "And Sylaris is his actual daughter. You just look like a kicked beast, Xulthas."
Xulthas didn't look up from his scroll. "Cut the bullshit, Thalassa. I'm not in the mood."
"Clearly," she replied, sitting on the edge of a nearby table. "You have been hovering in these halls like a pest. I've seen warriors in the training ground making bets on how many times you'll walk past this door before sunset. Tell me... what could you possibly have said to make him that enraged? Whenever you've taunted him before, he usually just rolls his eyes, calls you an idiot in that polite way of his, and calls it a day."
Xulthas finally looked up. His eyes were bloodshot. "I compared him to Malachi."
Thalassa's face twisted in genuine shock. She stood up, her hand flying to the hilt of her sword. "Xulthas... are you a moron? In what world could Zaliyah who spends his days worrying about Sylaris , books and boutique silks ever compare to Malachi?"
"In that moment, he was acting like Malachi," Xulthas muttered, his voice defensive but weak. "He was willing to let monsters tear through the academy. He was prioritizing his own bloodline over the lives of hundreds. It felt... familiar. Or so I thought."
"Well, let's look at the facts," Thalassa snapped, pacing the room. "Zaliyah never dropped a pregnant person from the clouds . Zaliyah hasn't dug his claws into anyone's neck just to see them bleed. Zaliyah hasn't slaughtered entire villages on a whim. He was a father in a panic, Xulthas. There is a big difference between being a protective parent and being a genocidal sadist."
"I am aware, Thalassa," Xulthas growled, closing the scroll with a snap. "I am painfully aware."
"Good," she spoke, smirking down at him with a cold satisfaction. "Because you're going to be apologizing for forty days and forty nights once he wakes up. And knowing Zaliyah? He's going to make you crawl for it."
"That I can do," Xulthas replied softly. "I would do it for longer if it meant he didn't look at me with that kind of hatred again."
They both turned their gaze toward the bed. Zaliyah's eyelashes were fluttering, a delicate movement signaling the return of consciousness.
"He's coming around," Thalassa whispered. "I'll leave you to your penance. Try not to get flung through any more walls."
"No, I'm leaving" Xulthas replied
With a shimmer of dark magic, Thalassa and Xulthas both vanished from the room, leaving Zaliyah to wake in the silence he had demanded.
Zaliyah's eyes opened slowly. The room was dim. He felt a lingering ache in his temples, but the sharp, stabbing agony had subsided into a dull thrum. He pushed himself up against the headboard, his silk robes sliding off one shoulder. He reached up, tucking a few stray strands of silver hair behind his ears, and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
He felt hollow, but the rage had been replaced by a quiet, grounded exhaustion.
The doors creaked open, and a high-pitched scream broke the silence. "DADA!"
Sylaris was dressed in white and yellow as she sprinted across the room. Iruna was close behind her, a wide, relieved smile on her face.
"Your Highness...You're awake"
Zaliyah didn't even have time to answer before the "fat child" launched herself onto the bed. He caught her mid-air, his arms wrapping around her solid, heavy little body as they tumbled back against the pillows. Zaliyah laughed as he began planting kisses all over her chubby face. Her forehead, her nose , her lips, and her cheeks.
"I missed you so much," he whispered, his hands moving searching her arms and legs for any bruises she might have picked up at school, still acting on the instinct that had nearly burned him out.
Sylaris pulled back, her face serious. She poked him in the chest with a blunt finger. "My teacher says if you sleep too much, you'll become fat, Dada. Why do you sleep so much? I don't want you to become fat like a slow pig"
Zaliyah giggled, ruffling her hair. "Being fat isn't bad, Sylaris. It just means you've had a lot of good food and a lot of good rest."
Sylaris rolled her eyes with the sass of a queen. "No! Being fat is bad! I hate fat people, They can't run fast in a war and my teacher told me snow monsters like to eat fat people the most!"
Zaliyah let out a proper laugh this time, pulling the child to his chest and hugging her so tight she let out a little squeak. "You're right. You're absolutely right. I also hate fat people too. We shall be thin and fast together."
Sylaris seemed satisfied with this answer. She moved her little arms, hugging Zaliyah's neck with a strength that almost choked him, burying her face in his silver hair.
Iruna stood at the foot of the bed, her eyes misting over at the sight of the warm family reunion. "How do you feel, Your Highness? Does it hurt somewhere? Should I call the physician back?"
Zaliyah shook his head gently. His gaze wandered around the room. "Where's Harun?"
"He's at the peaks," Iruna answered. "Overseeing the new perimeter guards. He's been out there since dawn... I think he needed the cold air to clear his head. You've been sleeping for quite a while now, Your Highness. I was... I was almost paralyzed with fear that you wouldn't wake up."
Zaliyah's expression softened. He gestured for Iruna to come closer. When the Chamberlain bent down low, Zaliyah reached out and patted her head gently, the way he would with Sylaris. "You need not worry, Iruna. I am fine. Truly. Well..." he offered a sheepish, playful grin. "I am a little hungry."
Sylaris didn't just hear the word; she felt it in her soul. She began to dance for joy on the mattress, her feet thumping against the blankets. "YAY! FOOD! I want cakes! Dada, I want honey cakes!"
She stopped dancing and looked at Zaliyah with wide, shimmering puppy eyes -- the exact look she used when she wanted to escape a bath or gain an extra sweet. "My teacher says all great warriors eat honeyed cakes to keep their muscles strong. I want honey cakes, Dada. Please?"
Zaliyah rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "You know those cheap tricks only work on Harun, Sylaris. I'm the one who taught you that look." He looked up at Iruna, who was already giggling. "Bring some cakes. And something substantial for me."
As Iruna bowed and left to fetch the meal, Zaliyah pulled Sylaris back into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her as if she were the only anchor keeping him in this world. He didn't care about the storm, the Commander's apologies, or the reaction of his core. In the quiet of the room, with the heavy weight of his daughter in his arms, the comparison to Malachi felt like a distant, fading nightmare.