"I just wanted to be a normal kid," he whispered, his voice cracking as tears welled up. His shoulders shook as he tried to stifle the sobs, but they came anyway, each one a release of the weight he'd been carrying.
He wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve, feeling a lump in his throat. "Why can't they see that?"
"I just wanted to be a normal kid," he whispered, his voice cracking as tears welled up. His shoulders shook as he tried to stifle the sobs, but they came anyway, each one a release of the weight he'd been carrying.
He wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve, feeling a lump in his throat. "Why can't they see that?"
Mel felt a sharp kick to his arm, and he growled, his eyes dark with frustration. "I'm in a really bad mood right now, so—!" His words cut off as he looked up, locking eyes with Princess Rue, who stood before him in her school uniform, flanked by two bodyguards.
"A bad mood? What's got your panties in a twist?" she asked, her voice laced with annoyance.
Immediately, Mel straightened up and stood at attention, his previous aggression replaced with formal deference. "My apologies, Princess Rue! I should've known better than to speak so rudely in your presence. Please, allow me to atone by cutting off one of my fingers!" He grabbed hold of his pinky, his expression dead serious.
Rue's eyes went wide in alarm. "What? No! That's... really not necessary!" She quickly intervened, stopping him. A flicker of discomfort crossed her face as she added, almost awkwardly, "Besides, you're a king, so you don't even have to be at attention..." Her voice trailed off, refusing to meet his gaze.
Mel relaxed from his stance and glanced at her with a smirk. "So, you're actually going to classes now? Didn't think you were the type to enjoy school." He nodded toward her uniform as she absentmindedly twirled her hair.
"Well, after nearly dying in Atlantis, I figured I might as well experience high school at least once," she chuckled, glancing down at her uniform. "Plus, I mean, look at me—I look fabulous in this."
Mel gave her a half-smile. "Did you want something?"
She rolled her eyes, leaning back slightly. "You did save my life, you know. Maybe I'm just checking up on you. But… I also heard you attacked Uncle Thaddeus. Is it true he knew the knights were going to attack Atlantis?"
Mel sighed, rubbing his leg, still sore from the fight with Nicolas. "Yeah, it's true. But I can't really blame him. I was the one trying to juggle being a student and a king at the same time."
There was a brief pause, then Rue broke the silence. "Do you want to hang out? If I tell the staff you're with me, no one will bother us. You look way too stressed."
Mel thought about it for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I could use the break."
As he stepped toward her, one of her bodyguards blew his whistle sharply. "Three feet away from the princess!" the guard barked before tackling Mel to the ground. The second bodyguard rushed in, landing an elbow to his ribs.
Mel gasped for air as Rue quickly ordered them off. "Are you alright?" she asked, crouching beside him, concern in her eyes.
Mel coughed, giving a weak thumbs-up. "Just… peachy," he groaned.
A short while later, they strolled through the busy streets of Auroria Dominion, the city's energy buzzing around them.
"This place is always alive," Mel muttered, taking in the lively scene.
Rue smirked, her usual cockiness returning. "That's why our kingdom is superior," she said, her voice laced with pride.
Their conversation was interrupted when a group of Mel's fish people appeared before them, dressed in blue clothing and adorned with intricate tattoos. They wore serious expressions. "My king, the new and improved warriors of Atlantis are here to serve you," Goda announced in a deep, commanding voice.
Mel raised an eyebrow, confused. "What's going on?"
Jilcari, a fishwoman, stepped forward. "We couldn't help you in Atlantis or Eaglewood. We were holding you back. So we decided to get stronger."
Rue blinked, slightly baffled. "But that was only a few hours ago…"
Mel chuckled, his smile softening. "A king who depends on his people alone is no king at all." He gently placed a hand on Goda's cheek, his voice steady but warm. "And a man who lets his kingdom fall into danger is no true man. The fault wasn't yours—if anyone is to blame for putting you at risk, it's me."
Immediately, the fishmen erupted in cheers, their voices full of pride and admiration. "Yeah! Our king is amazing!" one shouted, while another bellowed, "Long live the king!" Jilcari pumped her fist in the air. "We'll follow you anywhere, King Mel!"
Goda grinned, his chest swelling with pride. "We'll never let you down again!"
Jilcari pumped her fist in the air. "We're stronger now, and we'll never let you down again!"
"We're with you, always!" another fishman roared, his voice barely containing his excitement. The crowd of fishmen began chanting, "King Mel! King Mel! King Mel!" as they stomped their feet, the sound echoed through the streets.
Goda grinned widely, his chest swelling with pride. "We'll never fail you, my king! We stand with you, no matter what!"
The chorus of voices only grew louder, as more fishmen chimed in, "For Atlantis! For our king!"
Suddenly, Lance charged at Mel from behind. "Cloud martial arts: Tornado Kick!" he shouted, spinning through the air with precision. His foot whizzed toward Mel's head, but Mel swiftly raised his arm, effortlessly blocking the attack. "Where'd you come from?"
"Dammit!" Lance cursed as he landed in a crouch, frustration clear on his face.
Before Lance could recover, Goda lunged forward, grabbing Lance by the collar. "Did you just attack our king?! Don't you know the rule—Qry-62?!" Goda growled, towering over the boy.
"There's no such rule, Goda!" Mel called out, shaking his head.
Lance glared up at Goda, unfazed. "Are you seriously grabbing me right now? Don't you know the code of Melanthius? A real man never inflicts unnecessary violence!"
The two continued, rattling off ridiculous 'codes' that left Mel sighing. Neither Qry-62 nor half of what they said ever existed—except for the 'real man' part, which was actually one of Mel's deeply held beliefs.
"That's enough," Mel said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Let him go, Goda. And Lance, stop trying to land surprise attacks on me."
"You know this ugly bastard, teacher?"
"You know this ugly bastard, king?"
They both asked in unison.
"Yeah, Goda's from Atlantis and Lance is my student." Mel explained nervously.
Their expressions shifted instantly. Lance straightened up. "I apologize. I'm Lance Landthug, 8th grade. Student of Melanthius Shadowbane. Some call me the strongest middle schooler." He extended his hand confidently.
Goda eyed him for a moment before breaking into a grin and shaking his hand. "I'm Goda, used to be a ninth grader at the institute. Nice to meet you, Lance."
Rue rubbed her temples, letting out an exasperated sigh. "I'm surrounded by idiots…" she muttered under her breath.
Mel glanced over at her. "Something wrong?"
She gave a half-hearted shrug. "I just thought we'd be, I don't know… actually hanging out or something. Not babysitting your entourage of wannabe warriors." She crossed her arms, her eyes flicking toward the fishmen and Lance. "I mean, you saved my life—doesn't that deserve at least a little one-on-one time?" Her tone was teasing, but there was a hint of sincerity behind it.
Mel raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think you were the type to want attention, Princess."
Rue rolled her eyes. "Well, you thought wrong." Without missing a beat, she grabbed Mel's hand and tugged him along. "C'mon!"
In a matter of moments, Mel found himself in Rue's expansive room within the castle. The space was a blend of high-tech gadgets and sleek design, a testament to her cybernetic enhancements.
Rue slumped on her bed, visibly irritated, while Mel lounged upside down from the ceiling. "Why are you sitting on the ceiling?" she asked, exasperated.
Mel looked down at her with a serious expression. "Well, if men and women are in the same room together, that's how babies are made," he stated matter-of-factly.
Rue stared at him, bewildered, before hurling a book at his head. "What the hell are you talking about?!" she shouted.
Mel deftly sidestepped the book. "That's what I learned in Caldara," he said matter-of-factly. Rue sighed, clearly frustrated. "Fine, whatever. So, what's on your mind?" She leaned back, waiting.
Mel, still hanging upside down, looked thoughtful. "I've been wondering about sushi. What exactly is it, and should I eat it in front of my kingdom? Also, why doesn't everyone wear robes?" Despite the oddity of his questions, he asked them with complete seriousness.
"Ugh, forget it," Rue said, frustrated, as she slumped further into her bed.
Mel hopped down from the ceiling, landing softly. "Sorry if I'm not what you expected. It's just… it's hard talking to you." He hesitated, glancing away. "When we first met, you called me a homeless perv. Then a criminal. And you brought up my father…" His voice trailed off, his gaze fixed on the floor.
Rue sighed, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her blanket. "Look… before I showed up after you saved your friends, I had this fight with my mom. She wants me to be more… princess-y." She admitted with a bitter laugh. "I'm sorry. It wasn't fair to treat you like that. The truth is… I'm jealous of the black cards. You all barely go to class, while I'm stuck in endless meetings and royal duties."
Mel blinked, surprised at her openness. He hadn't expected Rue to drop her guard and reveal her insecurities like that. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes, and for the first time, it felt like she wasn't the unshakable princess he'd always known.
"And then you saved me in Atlantis, and… I guess I started thinking you were cool," Rue admitted, glancing down at her arm. "Before school started, I created these cybernetic implants because, well, I don't have magic like you black cards." She raised her arm, and with a soft click, the robotic mechanism inside opened up, projecting a hologram of her internal enhancements.
Mel leaned in, clearly impressed. "This is way cooler than magic, honestly—because you built it yourself." He reached out to touch the hologram but jerked his hand back as a small shock zapped his finger. "Ah!" He quickly blew a small cloud on his finger to cool the sting.
Rue chuckled before asking, "By the way, why are most of your powers cloud-based?"
Mel wiped his finger on his shirt and shrugged. "It's the only thing I can do… unarmed, at least." He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a pencil. "Without a weapon, I can only conjure cloud-based stuff." He raised his hand and muttered a spell from his book, but only a single droplet of water splashed onto his face. Frowning, he pointed the pencil at himself and cast the spell again—this time, his hair turned blue. After she gasped in awe, he changed it back.
"See? But when I use powerful weapons like Excalibur, Dorian's dagger, or the Raven Talon tonfas, things get out of hand. I literally lost control." He paused, pocketing the pencil. "When I fought the three knights, I picked up a pipe, and they ran away like I'd summoned some ancient beast."
Rue raised an eyebrow. "A pipe? That's all it took?"
Mel nodded. "Yeah. Not sure why, but strong weapons seem to amplify everything. I'm just lucky that the pipe didn't turn into a legendary weapon itself."
Suddenly, the door flew open with a loud bang, and three boys swaggered in. The one leading them, a skinny, rather unattractive kid, had a smirk plastered on his face. The two behind him, equally unpleasant-looking, snickered as they followed his lead.
Rue groaned, rubbing her temples. "Mel, meet my family friends. They go to Arcanum Middle—eighth graders," she explained with a weary wave of her hand.
The skinny boy, Dean Campbell, mimicked her in a high-pitched, exaggerated voice. "These are my family friends, blah blah, they go to Arcanum Middle, blah blah!" he said, contorting his face into a stupid expression as his brothers burst into obnoxious laughter.
Rue shot them a look of pure annoyance. "Could you guys be any more predictable?"
Dean contorted his face, making obnoxious kissy sounds. "Give me a kiss, King Melanthius, bwee bwee bwee," he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Rue buried her face in her hands, clearly embarrassed.
Dean's brother, Herbert, stepped up and reached out, brushing his fingers against Mel's beard. "Who's this old guy with the beard?" he sneered.
Before Mel could respond, Harold, the third brother, lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Mel in an awkward attempt at a bear hug. "I heard this is King Melanthius, mwahaha," Harold cackled, trying to squeeze Mel tightly.
"Nice to meet you," Mel said calmly, hugging Harold back—except Mel's grip tightened, compressing Harold's ribs until the boy's laughter quickly turned into gasps. "Any friends of Rue are friends of mine."
"Gah! This guy's strong as hell!" Harold wheezed, squirming in Mel's grip before he was unceremoniously dropped to the floor, groaning dramatically.
"Sorry!" Mel quickly apologized, conjuring a small cloud to float over Harold, cooling him off.
Rue sighed, her patience clearly wearing thin as she glanced at Dean and Herbert, whose faces had gone pale with fear. "Hey, doofuses!" she snapped, bringing their attention to her. "What are you even doing here?"
Dean hesitated, swallowing nervously before stammering, "W-We're missing a player for sky jousting… And your father said you had a friend over who could help." He glanced at Mel nervously. "I... uh, hope this isn't the guy... Nyak nyak..." His attempt at a laugh fell flat, the fear in his voice too obvious to hide.
"What's sky jousting?" Mel suddenly appeared behind Dean, making him jump with a startled yelp.
"AH!" Dean shouted, flinging himself onto Rue's bed. He saw Mel's expression, still innocent and curious. "Geez, don't sneak up on people like that!"
Mel tilted his head. "So, what is it? Jousting in the sky?"
Dean, still trying to recover, looked at him in disbelief. "You really don't know?" When Mel shook his head, Dean sighed and sat up. "Alright, I'll explain. You know regular jousting, right? Knights on horses charging at each other with lances?"
Mel nodded slowly. "Yeah, I've heard about it."
Dean, puffing up with pride, continued, "Sky jousting is just like regular jousting, but instead of horses, we ride hoverboards, and instead of lances, we use energy staffs. We fly through the air at crazy speeds, trying to knock each other off balance."
"Energy staffs…?" Mel's interest dimmed for a moment. "I'm not supposed to use weapons." He said seriously, as if this were a non-negotiable rule.
Before Dean could jump in with some kind of rebuttal, Rue quickly stepped in, sensing the shift. "It's fine," she said with a reassuring smile. "You could probably be the referee."
Mel blinked, clearly confused. "What's a referee?"
In the Arcanum Middle gym, Mel stood on the sidelines, whistle in hand, watching two kids zip through the air on hoverboards, clashing their energy staffs with loud crackles. One kid managed to knock his opponent off balance, sending him spiraling toward the ground. Without hesitation, Mel raised his whistle to his lips and gave a sharp blow. "Point!" he called out, his voice echoing through the gym.
"Point?! My hoverboard malfunctioned!" the boy who lost shouted, his voice tinged with frustration and jealousy. "Are you blind?!"
Mel calmly ignored the outburst, blowing his whistle to signal the next match. The boy, still seething, gripped his energy staff and started toward Mel, clearly not intending to attack but full of anger.
Before he could get close, Lance suddenly appeared in front of him, blocking his path. "My teacher said you lost. Now get lost!" Lance barked, his eyes sharp. The boy, now intimidated by Lance, grumbled and backed off.
"That wasn't necessary," Mel said, his focus still on the ongoing match.
"What's not necessary is showing up to my school unannounced," Lance shot back with a grin. "How'd you even manage to hang out with Rue anyway? You're so cool, teacher!" His excitement bubbled over, clearly impressed by Mel's connections.
"Some funny-looking guys asked me to join, but I figured being the referee was safer," Mel replied, absentmindedly chewing on the whistle.
Lance, fencing a sword nearby, shot him a curious look. "But Master, why haven't you tried any sports? You could probably dominate."
Mel glanced over, still focused on the match. "I don't want to use the weapons," he said simply, then blew the whistle again to signal the start of another round.
Lance shrugged. "Well, there's more to sports than just weapons, you know."
"I didn't know that," Mel replied casually, watching as a staff suddenly flew from a student's hand, spinning wildly through the air. It sailed toward Rue, who was sitting on the bleachers, but before it could reach her, Professor Estron appeared out of nowhere and snatched the staff mid-air with a swift, practiced movement.
"You alright, Princess Rue?" he asked in a monotone voice, his expression flat. Rue blinked up at him, caught off guard. Estron was never one for icy looks, especially after what had happened with Melanthius, making his sudden coldness even more confusing.
Mel trudged up to the bleachers, feeling a wave of fatigue hit him like a heavy fog. His body felt drained—more than tired, he was outright exhausted. "Professor Estron?" he asked, his voice weaker than usual. "What are you doing in the middle school?" Estron turned his cold gaze toward him, and in that moment, Mel felt his legs give out beneath him. Darkness swallowed him as he collapsed.
When he woke, he was in the infirmary. Eye bags weighed down his face, and the nurse stood beside him, her expression concerned. "You alright? When was the last time you ate, slept, or even drank water?" she asked, a hint of reprimand in her voice.
Mel blinked, trying to think back. Since the spider incident… he hadn't done any of those things. "Not in a while," he muttered, the realization hitting him.
He was about to mention his encounter with Estron. "My head started hurting when—" but before he could finish, the nurse handed him a few pills and a glass of water. He swallowed them without hesitation, feeling the cool water soothe his parched throat.
"Your friends are here," the nurse said, smiling softly before stepping out to let Elowen and Dorian enter the room.
"Guys… hey." Mel's voice was weak as he tried to sit up, only to realize he was strapped to the bed. Panic washed over him. He struggled against the familiar chains, the same ones from his cell in Caldara. "What…?" His eyes widened in confusion. "What is this?" he asked nervously, pulling harder against the restraints.
Dorian stepped forward, his face tight with dread. "Mel, someone stole Excalibur, my dagger, and the Raven Talon tonfas."
Mel chuckled nervously, glancing between them. "I don't get what this has to do with me." His tone shifted from confusion to growing alarm. He struggled harder, feeling the situation close in around him. That's when Thaddeus emerged from the shadows of the infirmary, his presence immediately commanding the room. Behind him, the upperclassmen black cards filed in.
"I think it has everything to do with you," Thaddeus said coolly, stepping closer.
Mel's heart sank as the black cards gathered around, each wearing somber expressions.
"Black cards," Thaddeus continued, addressing the group, "who fought former king Maren using Excalibur?"
In unison, the black cards answered, "Melanthius Shadowbane." Even Elowen and Dorian mumbled it, unable to meet his gaze.
"And who bunks with Dorian Dracula, the owner of the stolen dagger?" Thaddeus pressed.
"Melanthius Shadowbane." The words came like a punch to the gut, and as they echoed around the room, Mel scanned the faces of his peers. Each one looked sad, conflicted, but none offered him any defense.
"And finally," Thaddeus said, drawing out the moment, "who killed the wild storm spider using the Raven Talon tonfas?"
There was a pause before the answer came: "Melanthius… Shadowbane."
Mel's struggle intensified. "What?! I didn't steal the weapons! A real man never steals!" His voice grew desperate, a mix of anger and disbelief. His body tensed as he fought against the restraints, but before he could say more, Draven stepped forward and delivered a sharp chop to Mel's solar plexus, knocking the wind from his lungs.
"Enough," Draven muttered, his voice low.
Mel groaned in pain, collapsing back onto the bed, and as he looked around, he saw that Elowen and Dorian still couldn't bear to face him. They had turned away, their silence cutting deeper than any accusation.
"Draven, I've been around everyone every day since the spider incident!" Mel coughed, struggling to catch his breath. Thaddeus shook his head calmly, unfazed. "Mel, you've been unconscious for three weeks now," he said, his voice cutting through the tension in the room.
Mel's eyes widened in disbelief. "F-for three weeks?! But you said it yourself—I was unconscious!"
"That's true," Thaddeus admitted, "but you could've been faking it and stolen the weapons during that time. We've already stopped the fish people from entering the kingdom, just in case." Thaddeus' words landed like a blow, and Mel could feel the weight of suspicion pressing down on him.
Mel's heart raced as he struggled to comprehend the situation. "You don't have enough proof to send me back to Caldara!" His voice cracked with desperation.
Thaddeus' expression darkened. "Not yet. But you should know something else."
The air in the room seemed to freeze. Mel's breath hitched, his eyes widening in horror. He glanced around wildly, hoping for some denial, but all he saw were downturned faces. No one met his gaze. Everyone already knew.
"You're to remain here, bound to these chains," Thaddeus continued coldly. "Understand this, Mel—you're the only one who can wield the Raven Talon tonfas and Excalibur, aside from Elowen."
Mel's stomach twisted. Thaddeus turned and left the room, the other black cards silently following, leaving Mel strapped to the bed, alone with the crushing weight of their accusations.
"I'm being framed!" Mel screamed, his voice breaking into a frantic cry. "I can't be chained again! Not like in Caldara! I can't! I won't!" His voice rose in panic as the memories of his imprisonment surged to the surface. Tears streamed down his face as he struggled against the chains, but the cold metal only bit deeper into his wrists.
"I'm not a monster!" he cried, his voice echoing off the walls of the empty infirmary. "Please… let me out… I can't live like this anymore…"