Elias woke to the soft glow of morning light spilling through the ornate window, casting golden streaks across the room.
For a brief moment, he forgot where he was.
The bed beneath him was impossibly soft, the fabric of the sheets smooth like silk, a stark contrast to the rough linen he was used to back home. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and old parchment, a mix of royalty and wisdom.
Everything about this place felt otherworldly, from the towering crystal chandeliers to the intricate silver filigree carved into the walls. This was not the cottage by the sea. This was somewhere else entirely.
His gaze shifted toward the massive window, framed with dark drapes embroidered with symbols he didn’t recognize. Beyond the glass, a breathtaking view stretched out before him.
The sky was deep violet, streaked with silver mist that curled like living tendrils over the mountaintops. The towering spires of the palace reached toward the heavens, surrounded by gardens that seemed to glow with their own energy. It looked like something out of a dream, yet it was all real.
A soft knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
He hesitated before answering. “Come in.”
The door opened, and Selene Varis entered, standing tall, arms crossed, her ever-present daggers strapped at her sides.
Even in the soft light of morning, she looked as composed as ever—cool, unreadable, and effortlessly dangerous.
“Join us for breakfast,” she said, her voice calm, but carrying the weight of an unspoken command.
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Elias smirked, shaking off the lingering confusion of waking up in a place so different from home.
“After you.”
The royal dining hall was vast, its high ceilings adorned with intricate gold carvings, depicting ancient battles and celestial creatures he didn’t recognize. The chandeliers above them weren’t just glass—they pulsed softly, as if lit by trapped starlight.
The long wooden table stretched nearly the length of the room, set with goblets of gleaming silver, gold-rimmed plates, and an array of food that looked almost too perfect to be real. The scent of spiced meats, freshly baked bread, and something floral yet unfamiliar filled the air.
Selene’s parents sat at the head, waiting.
The King, his gaze steady and sharp, studied Elias as he approached. There was no warmth in his eyes—only measured calculation.
Elias hesitated for a moment before taking his seat.
“Eat up, my boy,” the King said, finally breaking the silence. His voice was deep, commanding yet controlled. “You’ll need it for your training today.”
Elias froze mid-motion, his fork hovering over his plate.
“Training?”
The Queen, whose expression was softer yet still guarded, gave him a small smile.
“Your father entrusted us to prepare you, should this day come.”
Elias set his fork down, tension creeping into his shoulders.
“I don’t understand,” he admitted.
The King leaned forward, his fingers laced together. There was something heavy in his expression, something ancient.
“Your father knew what was coming, Elias. He knew that one day, you would have to face it.”
A strange chill ran through Elias’s spine.
He had spent his life believing his father was dead, lost to the sea.
But the more he uncovered, the less sense it all made.
His father had prepared for something—something far beyond what Elias had imagined.
Training for what? What had his father been hiding?
The Queen’s eyes softened slightly, as if she could sense his turmoil.
“You have questions. That’s expected,” she said gently. “But answers come with time. For now, you must focus on preparing.”
Elias swallowed, forcing himself to steady his breath.
He wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.
But something deep inside him—some instinct, some whisper of a forgotten truth—told him that whatever was coming…
It had already begun.
The King’s next words sent a new wave of unease through him.
“It’s time you learned the truth."
