Caelum woke up as usual, at the first light of day. The soft murmur of the waterfalls near their refuge served as a natural alarm clock, soothing his mind troubled by dreams he preferred to forget. He lay there for a few moments, his gaze fixed on the ceiling of the small room that was his. The rays of the rising sun filtered through the gaps in the wooden window, creating plays of light and shadow on the stone walls.
He finally sat up, heaving a soft sigh. He knew that staying in bed too long would only poison his thoughts. He quickly put on his clothes, a simple tunic, soft leather pants, and his well-worn boots, then went out into the corridor of the refuge. Life here was austere, far from the luxury and grandeur of Solara, but it was all he knew now.
The refuge was an ancient fortress hidden in the mountains, a safe, if cold and unforgiving, place where Lyra and Aldric had taken him after his kingdom fell. He spent his days training, studying, learning everything he could to one day, he hoped, avenge his family and reclaim his throne. But there was a lingering shadow in his heart, a pain he carried in silence.
Guilt.
He was the last survivor of his line. His parents, his siblings, all had perished in the attack. And he had survived. Sometimes, in his darkest moments, he wondered if his life was worth more than those of his loved ones. If he had done something wrong to deserve to live when so many others had died.
But he could not allow himself to show that weakness. He was a prince, even if he was without a kingdom, and a prince had to be strong. To hide his feelings, he had built a facade. He made jokes, sometimes at others' expense, but mostly to protect himself. It was his way of avoiding facing reality, of masking the pain that ate away at him from the inside.
That morning, he joined Aldric and Lyra for their daily training. They were already in the inner courtyard, Lyra adjusting her bow and Aldric sharpening a longsword.
"Well, have you started without me yet?" Caelum said with a smile. "I hope you don't tire yourself out too much before I show you how it's done."
Aldric looked up, a smirk on his face, but didn't answer. He knew there was a deeper shadow behind those words. Lyra, however, was more pragmatic. "You should save your breath for training, Caelum. The mountain won't be climbed by mere words." »
"That's the whole point, isn't it?" Caelum replied, grabbing a practice sword. "If I talk enough, I might make her give up."
The next few hours went by as usual. Intense training, combining physical strength, agility, and strategy. Caelum fought with natural skill, but also with a hidden desperation, as if he were trying to expel something from himself with each swing of his sword. Aldric pushed him further, mercilessly, while Lyra watched, evaluating each move with a critical eye.
But after training, when his exhausted body needed rest, Caelum's mind began to wander. It was in these quiet moments that he was alone with his thoughts, and that's when the guilt would resurface, insidious and relentless. He escaped into humor, even when it was inappropriate, because he knew the alternative was too much to bear.
That afternoon, after his lessons in military strategy and diplomacy with Lyra, Caelum found himself alone in the small library of the refuge. The walls were lined with old books and parchments, relics of a bygone era. He grabbed a book at random and sank into a leather chair, but he couldn't concentrate.
His thoughts kept coming back to the same question: Why him? Why was he the only one left? Part of him thought he wasn't up to this fate. That he wasn't strong enough to bear the burden of a destroyed kingdom. But he couldn't let that show. He had to be the prince everyone expected him to be, even if he silently doubted it.
That night, after dinner, Caelum went out onto the terrace overlooking the mountains. Night was falling, and the stars were beginning to appear in the sky, like shards of luminous crystals in an inky sea. He loved these moments of solitude, when he could finally remove his mask, even if no one could see him.
He found himself thinking about Solara, about what his life would have been like if things had been different. If his parents had been still alive. If only he were a prince with a kingdom, instead of a survivor with a burden.
But nostalgic thoughts had never helped him, and he knew it. He took a deep breath, trying to push the images of his family from his mind. Tomorrow would be another day, another chance to train, to get stronger, to get closer to his goal.
As he prepared to head back, a strange light caught his eye. A glint, just at the edge of the forest that bordered the mountain. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but enough to pique his curiosity. Caelum frowned. Nothing and no one was supposed to be here.
Without wasting time, he ran down the stairs and slipped out of the shelter. His senses were on alert, every fiber of his body tense with adrenaline. He moved silently through the trees, his heart beating at a rapid pace.
He finally reached the source of the light. What he found left him speechless. On the ground, partially buried under leaves and dirt, a shard of energy crystal glowed faintly. But that wasn't all. Around the crystal were tracks, footprints, and a shadow moving stealthily between the trees.
Someone else was here.
His instincts took over, and he backed away slowly, trying not to make a sound. He knew he had to inform Lyra and Aldric immediately, but before he could make another move, the dark figure emerged from the shadows, a blade glowing faintly in the night.
Caelum dodged narrowly, his training taking over, but he knew immediately that this was no mere intruder. This was someone trained, someone dangerous.
There was no time for jokes this time. The fight was coming to him, and he had to be ready.