Mel walked behind Rue, who wheeled through the bustling streets, her gaze sharp and alert despite her recent ordeal. He could see the hints of exhaustion in her movements, but she masked it well with her usual defiant smirk.
"Still trailing behind, huh?" she teased, casting a glance over her shoulder.
He chuckled softly, matching her pace. "Just keeping an eye out," he replied, his voice light but tinged with concern. The scars of their last battle were still fresh, but she pushed forward as if unbreakable.
Rue rolled her eyes, though a faint smile played on her lips. "You think I can't handle myself out here?" She glanced sideways, her cybernetic eye glowing faintly as it scanned their surroundings, always a step ahead.
In a worn-down house at Horace Groves, Arid slipped through the broken doorway, bag in hand, and spotted three kids in ragged clothes sitting on the floor.
"Brother!" they shouted, scrambling to their feet and running to him, hugging his legs tightly.
"Shh, shh, I've got a crazy headache," he murmured with a grin, tousling their hair as he crouched to sit with them.
His little sister looked up, eyes bright with awe. "We saw you on the news, brother! Did you really help beat the bad guys?"
Arid chuckled, leaning back. "Yep. Wasn't just me, though. There were other students too—they're tough."
"Stronger than you?!" they gasped in unison, wide-eyed.
"Not a chance." He waved a hand, laughing, and stood up, ruffling their hair one last time before heading to the back room.
Inside, an older man sat slumped in a faded armchair, eyes clouded and distant, carrying the weight of years. He barely moved as Arid approached, only watching with a hollow gaze. Arid slipped a few bills into the man's shirt pocket. "Hold onto that, Pop," he murmured, giving the man's shoulder a gentle pat before he turned and headed back out.
"Brother, do you think you could take us with you this time?" one of the boys asked, his voice hopeful.
Arid knelt down to their level, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I promise, one day I'll take you all, and we'll live like royalty," he said with a warm smile. "I'll build a kingdom just for you, where you'll never work for anything."
Back in Auroria Dominion
Mel and Rue sat in a cozy booth at The Bronze Blanket, a bustling restaurant in Messeac Square, the second-largest town in Auroria Dominion after Solstice City. Rue was enjoying a plate of Pegasus Bonbons, her drink fizzing beside her. Mel leaned against the window, a soft smile playing on his face as he watched her. Rue caught his gaze and chuckled, "What?"
He shook his head with a laugh. "Nothing."
Just then, he looked up to see Dorian, Elowen, and Lance approaching.
"Hey!" Dorian greeted with a grin, and Mel waved them over. Scooting aside, Mel made room as Lance and Dorian slid in next to him, while Elowen joined Rue, helping her shift over with a friendly nudge.
"I thought you guys were headed back to your kingdoms," Rue said, watching as Elowen ordered herself a drink.
"We're leaving tonight," Elowen explained. "The carriages are crammed, with all the royals and transfers trying to get out at once." She sighed, glancing at Mel with a touch of disappointment. "I'm sorry we couldn't give you a proper Halloween, Mel."
Mel shook his head with a smile. "This is more than enough—just getting to hang out with you guys before you all head off." As Lance threw playful jabs his way, Mel flicked his wrist, summoning small clouds to harmlessly absorb each punch.
"What are we supposed to do for a whole nine months? November to August?" Lance groaned, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. "And that's only if there's even a school next year after all that chaos. I just hope my freshman year isn't as wild as yours was." He added, taking a long sip of his drink.
"I kinda feel bad for the seniors," Dorian said offhandedly. "They didn't even get a proper graduation or a chance to enjoy the rest of their year. Now they're just waiting around for their parents to...well, you know...kick the bucket so they can finally become king."
Elowen smacked the back of his head. "What is wrong with you?" she scolded.
As the group chatted and laughed together, a rare sense of calm settled over them, despite the whirlwind of recent events. In that moment, the weight of their royal destinies faded, replaced by the warmth of friendship and the joy of simply being together. Mel soaked in each teasing jab and smile, knowing their time was precious. After tonight, when his friends left on their journeys home, only he and Rue would remain in Auroria—a bittersweet thought.
Sensing Mel's quiet drift, Rue nudged him gently. "What's on your mind?" she asked, her eyes soft with concern. He looked up with a small smile. "Just realizing how much I'm going to miss you all. It feels strange that summer is so far away." A thoughtful silence settled over them until Dorian broke it with a grin. "Hey, what if we all met up during winter break? New Year's reunion or something?"
"That sounds great," Mel chuckled. Then he glanced around. "So, what are your plans for this nine-month break?" Dorian leaned back, thinking. "Well, originally, I thought I'd just lay around all break, but…"
Flashback
But the monk was quicker. With a fluid motion, Dainin delivered a devastating uppercut, lifting Dorian off his feet and hurling him into a nearby tree. "You're not bad," Dainin mused, watching as Dorian crumpled to the ground, coughing. "With a decent trainer, you could make a fine king someday. Tell me, who trained you?"
Dorian struggled to stand, wincing at the pain. "I... I never had a trainer," he admitted between labored breaths. "My father always said Draculas don't need anyone to train us. We're just that great. So, I never questioned him."
Dainin frowned, shaking his head. "A shame. So, you've been a toddler for years, huh? Vampires age slowly, but your strength could've grown if someone had actually taught you." He appeared in front of Dorian, tapping his chest almost mockingly. "But you're not beyond saving,"
Present
"I decided I'm going to train," Dorian said, a newfound determination in his voice, remembering his intense encounter with Dainin.
"My father's taking me out to Omen—he's planning to open a new ice cream shop there and expand his business." Lance's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Omen's a humble little country, home to around a million elves—1,076,870, to be exact. It's nestled between mineral-rich mountains to the north, fjords to the east, and bordered by seas on the other two sides. The people there mainly live off crafting, trade, and farming, and the landscape is incredible—pink blossom forests, volcanic lava flows, jade-green fields... Honestly, it's breathtaking. No wonder it's a popular spot for tourists."
He paused, grinning. "But the elves aren't exactly thrilled about visitors. They give foreigners the side-eye, like they're worried we might disrupt things. But they're beautiful, I'll give them that."
The others chuckled, watching as Lance's excitement practically radiated off him.
Elowen took a sip of her drink, setting it down thoughtfully. "I'll be exploring Camelot a bit more, trying my best to avoid my brother every chance I get. Aunt Abigail's probably going to insist on training me, but after everything that happened this past year, I just want a break," she sighed, and they nodded in agreement.
"Tell me about it," Dorian groaned. "If I tried to relax, my father would be on me in seconds, saying, 'Dorian, you must be stronger. Blah, blah, blah,'" he said, mimicking Dracula's accent perfectly. They all burst into laughter, the moment easing any weight from their shoulders.
A few hours later, the group strolled—and Rue rolled—through the bustling streets of Solstice City, their laughter echoing above the evening chatter. The city lights cast a warm glow on their faces as they moved with carefree energy, playfully bumping into each other and stopping to strike ridiculous poses at the statues of Auroria's heroes. Dorian even tried balancing on a narrow ledge, dramatically flailing his arms for balance while the others cheered him on.
They took turns daring each other to mimic the street performers, with Lance attempting a clumsy spin move that left everyone doubled over in laughter. Rue even dared Mel to steal a quick bite from one of the market stalls, and, with a mischievous grin, he snagged a small pastry, holding it up triumphantly. The vendor laughed, waving them off, adding to the night's carefree spirit.
After a few more hours, Mel and Rue found themselves in the grand carriage room, where rows of sleek amethyst and silver carriages waited, each drawn by two magnificent silver horses with shimmering amethyst manes. Lance stood nearby, bag in hand, with his father at his side. He stepped forward and, with a formal bow, addressed Mel.
"Master Melanthius," he began solemnly, "when you fought the wardens and lost control, I wasn't there to bring you down. I only offered to be your student so I'd be ready to defeat you when you turn evil—"
Before he could finish, Mel reached out and lightly flicked him on the forehead. "You make me sound like a monster!" he laughed, shaking his head. "You know, you don't have to keep thinking of me like some final boss to beat, Lance. Maybe just… a friend."
Lance rubbed his forehead, a hint of a smile creeping in despite his efforts to stay serious. "Yeah, well… just don't go doing anything too evil,"
Mel chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. "I'll try my best."
Mel turned to Jake and Seth as they approached, his expression sincere. "I'm sorry for asking you two to risk yourselves for my plan," he said, bowing slightly.
Jake reached out, shaking Mel's hand with a warm smile. "Hey, you made this year safer for me. Hanging out with you, I almost believed I had magic myself." Seth nodded, gripping Mel's hand as well. "You saved my life once, and for that, I'd do that plan a million times over," he chuckled. They pulled each other into a quick, tight hug, then stepped back as Jake, Seth, Lance, and his father boarded their carriage, which soon disappeared from sight.
Suddenly, Elowen and Dorian threw their arms around Mel, the weight of the goodbyes hitting all at once. "Don't cry," Mel said, smiling gently, though his eyes stayed dry. Elowen clung to him, laughing through her tears. "I still can't believe I lost to you twice."
Dorian joined in with a chuckle. "Twice? Try three times for me! First time ended with a broken jaw, too." They all laughed, and Elowen playfully nudged Mel. "And you lifting Excalibur on your first try—that's just unfair," she teased.
"Guess you gotta train more," he chuckled, ruffling her hair. "Hey, let's come up with a name for ourselves—just in case we outgrow each other someday." Dorian grabbed Rue's camera, passing it to her as he gestured for them to step back and get close. With Elowen and Dorian on either side of Mel, he murmured, "How about... 'The Ancientblood Trio?'"
Dorian burst into laughter. "That's so cheesy—but also kind of perfect."
"The Ancientblood Trio it is," Elowen declared, grinning as they struck a dramatic pose.
Rue lifted the camera and called out, "Alright, say 'Ancientblood Trio!'" They chimed in together, wide smiles on their faces, just as she snapped the photo.
Once the other students departed to their kingdoms in their carriages, Mel quietly pushed Rue along the pathway in her wheelchair, both wrapped in a reflective silence. After a while, Rue's voice broke through, unexpectedly serious. "Mel, turn me around."
He hesitated, gripping the handles tightly. "Wouldn't you rather wait until I take you home?" he asked gently, but she stopped the wheels with a firm hand, halting their movement.
She twisted in her seat, looking up at him, her gaze unwavering. "I'm the one who's supposed to be the mess, remember? You're the hero. I'm the one in the wheelchair. So enough with the fake smile, Mel. It's just us here." She reached up, grabbing his collar and pulling him down until their eyes met, holding him steady in the moment.
He faltered, the carefully constructed mask slipping as he let out a sigh he hadn't realized he was holding. "It just... it feels like if I let it all in, all the worry, the guilt—it won't stop. I have to keep moving, Rue."
Rue's eyes softened, and she didn't let go of his collar. "Then let it in. I can handle it, Mel. I'd rather you break in front of me than pretend you're fine. You're not alone in this."
For a moment, he felt the weight of his worries lifting, carried by the steady gaze of the one person who could see through him. Without a word, he leaned his forehead gently against hers, letting himself be held in the quiet strength between them.
"The emotions I let out yesterday—the anger at never having a normal childhood, the grief I've kept bottled up for so long… and when you got hurt, all that pain turned into something else. I started hating myself, and I just… lost it." His voice broke as he buried his face in her chest, the weight of his words releasing in quiet, desperate sobs.
Rue held him close, her arms wrapping protectively around him. "I'm here," she whispered, resting her chin on his head. "You don't have to carry it all alone."
At midnight, Mel soared through the night sky and landed gracefully on Rue's window sill, one leg dangling off the edge. "I had to party with the Atlanteans. It was wild," he said, stifling a yawn as he stretched his arms above his head.
Rue glanced over from her bed, raising an eyebrow with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Are you really planning to sleep out there?"
Mel grinned, his voice light. "Yes, please! I want to keep some distance while still being close."
She let out a reluctant sigh, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Alright, do what you want. Just try not to fall off, okay?"
He nodded, a sense of comfort settling between them. After a while, the world around them faded into silence, and they both drifted off to sleep, the warmth of their unspoken bond wrapping around them like a cozy blanket.
The next morning, Mel jolted awake to the thunderous sound of heavy footsteps. His eyes flew open, and before he could steady himself, he toppled out of the window—instinctively hovering in mid-air just before hitting the ground.
"What the…?" he muttered, quickly flying up to get a better view. Below, the citizens of Solstice City were gathering, all eyes fixed on a procession moving through the streets. At the center of it all was a towering man with long white hair, seated proudly on an ornate throne, carried by an imposing line of knights.
Mel's gaze shifted to see Percival, Ruecrix, and Rue standing firm, their own knights flanking them, facing off against the oncoming army with unwavering resolve.
The towering man rose from his throne, standing close to seven feet with muscles rippling beneath his armor. He strode up to Rue, Ruecrix, and Percival, engaging them in a tense exchange that Mel couldn't quite catch. Intrigued and unsettled, Mel edged closer, hoping to overhear.
Suddenly, the man's gaze snapped upward, locking onto Mel with an intensity that made his pulse skip. The stranger's eyes, devoid of pupils and hard as steel, seemed to pierce right through him as if they were face-to-face. In one swift, seamless motion, the man took a spear from his attendant, his arm a blur as he hurled it toward Mel with terrifying speed and precision.
Mel darted out of the spear's path just in time, but his stomach dropped as he watched it hurtling straight toward Atlantis. Without hesitation, he bolted after it, catching up just before it could strike the water. He grasped the spear's handle, but the momentum nearly ripped it from his hands as he was dragged over the waves, the force searing through his grip and splitting his skin.
With a growl, he wrapped his feet in clouds, skimming over the water's surface as he fought to slow the spear's momentum. Finally, with a yell, he swung it around and launched it toward a distant cliff, where it struck with an explosion, blowing a crater into the rock. Panting, Mel glanced down at his bleeding hands, his palms throbbing with fresh scars that he knew would linger.
Back in the square, Rue's voice rang out, sharp and indignant. "What are you doing?! He's not an enemy!" she shouted, her frustration obvious. The man gave a casual shrug, scratching his wrist. "Apologies. He was…flying," he replied, as if his reasoning was sound.
"That makes zero sense!" Rue shot back, her exasperation flaring. The man bowed slightly. "Forgive me. I'll be more cautious next time… Though I still can't overlook what he put you through," he added, his tone hardening as a heavy silence fell over the kingdom. Even Ruecrix and Percival didn't try to argue with him.
All eyes turned as Mel walked calmly through the streets, his jaw clenched and his gaze locked on the man. Despite Rue calling out for him to calm down, Mel was beyond reason—this man had attacked him unprovoked and nearly hit Atlantis. Worse yet, he'd crossed a line with Mel's deepest values.
Rue wheeled herself to Mel, rolling backward to stay by his side as he walked. "Mel, look at me. It's okay," she said softly, taking his hands and trying to meet his gaze. Just then, a shadow loomed over her, and she turned to see the towering figure of the man, his intense stare locked onto Mel.
"Are you the one responsible for putting Princess Rue in that wheelchair?" he asked, voice sharp. Mel clenched his fists and lowered his head.
"I am," he admitted, the weight of guilt heavy on him, though he wasn't directly at fault.
"Mel, don't—" Rue began, but the man took a step forward, brushing past her.
"I'm King Bimoth," he announced, his gaze still fixed on Mel. "Rue and I grew up together, best friends since middle school. I took on the crown of the Slesan Empire in eighth grade with one promise—to always protect her. Get ready. I'll put you in the hospital for this." He tied his hair back, preparing to fight. Mel's eyes widened. This massive figure was not only his own age, but he was also king of the Andrion, Nicolas, and Hawkins territories.
"I recognize that look," Bimoth said, reading Mel's reaction. "Adrion, Nicolas, and Hawkins betrayed their alliances. I didn't know they'd attack your kingdom, and I planned to apologize…but that changed when I heard what happened to Rue." He cracked his neck, smirked, and added, "So don't expect an apology."
Mel knelt down in front of Rue, bringing himself to her eye level, and offered a soft smile. "Rue, I won't fight. I promise," he said gently, tilting his head just a bit, his eyes steady and sincere. Rue raised her eyebrows, her expression softening as she searched his face for any sign of doubt.
A voice from Bimoth's side called out, dripping with sarcasm, "Always taking orders from Princess Rue, huh? Like a loyal pup, King Melanthius?" Laughter rippled through the crowd, mocking and taunting.
"Did he really just apologize for what happened to Rue? Does that mean it was his fault?"
"I'd hate to be Mel right now. Bimoth looks like he could snap him in two without trying."
"I heard Bimoth's strength is legendary. If he and Mel clash, this city might not survive it."
"Funny how Mel's smile vanished when Bimoth started talking about protecting Rue."
"Didn't think I'd see two young kings staring each other down like this over one person."
"Did you see how Mel took that spear's impact? Bet Bimoth didn't expect him to still be standing."
"Why isn't Rue stopping this? Or… maybe she wants them to fight?"
"I don't care how powerful he is—no one talks down to the king of Atlantis."
"Bimoth's loyalty to Rue runs deep… maybe too deep. Wonder what that means for Mel."
"King or not, Mel's just a kid compared to Bimoth. Does he really think he can win this?"
"Imagine having two kings practically fighting over you. Rue must be something special."
"Bet you anything Rue's the only reason Mel isn't lashing out right now."
"Honestly, I'm not sure who I'd bet on. Mel has magic, but Bimoth… well, just look at him."
"Bimoth might be powerful, but underestimating a wizard's wrath? That's risky."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd as Mel straightened up, uncertainty flickering in his eyes as his promise weighed heavily on him. Bimoth took a step closer, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. "Notice how I can make a grand entrance and challenge you, and not a single person—king, queen, or even Rue—steps in to stop me. But you? You bring trouble to this kingdom, left Rue in that chair, and your bloodline only makes it worse. Can you even call yourself a real man?"
Mel's eyes widened, and his mind drifted to a distant memory.
Flashback
Nine-year-old Mel sat bruised and bloodied, staring up at the hulking shadow of Mr. Goldman, his mentor in the prison. Despite the pain, Mel looked up with defiance. "Mr. Goldman, what do you do if someone challenges your masculinity?"
Goldman huffed, surprised by the question. "What's it to you, kid? Not like you'll ever need that advice here." But then, he raised a fist and cracked his knuckles. "You beat him like hell," he said, and Mel flinched. "But… what if you promised not to fight?"
Goldman paused, then looked at Mel seriously. "A promise is a contract, especially if it's to someone you love. You don't break it. But that doesn't mean you just take the disrespect."
"So… just let them walk all over you?" Mel asked, uncertain.
Goldman's gaze softened as he looked at the young boy before him. "And remember, kid, a real man doesn't need to prove himself with his fists. He proves it by standing tall, even when others try to tear him down." He placed a heavy hand on Mel's shoulder. "You're tougher than you think, Melanthius. The day will come when you'll need to show that strength without violence. And when that day comes, you'll know what to do."
present
Mel blinked back into reality, those words echoing in his mind. He clenched his fists, then released them, standing taller as he faced Bimoth. He could feel the weight of the crowd's eyes on him, waiting to see if he'd break.
With a surprising calm, Mel held Bimoth's gaze, then let his eyes sweep over the army before resting on Rue. "Bimoth," he said evenly, his voice carrying across the crowd, "you want to fight me because of what happened to Rue. And to be honest, I've probably earned some consequences." His gaze sharpened. "But let's make it just you and me—somewhere private, no crowd, no paparazzi."
The crowd collectively inhaled, murmurs rippling as they absorbed Mel's bold challenge.
"Is he serious? Challenging the king to a private duel?"
"Did you hear that? He's practically inviting punishment."
"Bold move, especially after what happened to Rue…"
"He's not backing down, even against Bimoth's entire army!"
"Think he's got a chance? He looks calm, but that's Bimoth he's up against."
The crowd murmured in shock, eyes darting between Bimoth and Mel as tension thickened in the air. Bimoth held his gaze steady on Mel, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. "You're asking for punishment? So, this is what—the executioner meets the condemned?" he said, stepping forward with deliberate calm. Mel met him halfway, his stance unwavering.
As they moved, Rue quickly rolled back out of their path, her eyes sharp with worry. Percival made to intervene, but Ruecrix held him back, her voice low but steely. "Melanthius wants consequences, and frankly, I think he needs them." Her voice carried a bitter edge, revealing her anger—not only at Melanthius for what happened to Rue but at herself for not being able to shield Rue completely.
Bimoth considered Mel for a moment, then smirked, turning on his heel as his army fell in line behind him. "Come to my kingdom tonight. There's a place where we can settle this," he called over his shoulder. "Bring whoever you want. But if you don't show, I'll bring the fight to Atlantis—and kill you myself." With a casual wave, he strolled off, hands in his pockets, his confidence unshaken.
Not long after, Mel found himself back in Rue's room, chained to her bed with the door and windows locked. He blinked up at her, baffled. "Uh, Rue? What exactly is happening here?" he asked, trying to sound calm.
Rue wheeled closer, her face set with determination. "You can't fight him, Mel. Bimoth's always been strong—even when we were kids. He was born here in Auroria, but he took control of the Slesan Empire by the eighth grade." She watched him carefully as she explained, her worry clear in her eyes.
Mel chuckled, flashing a mischievous grin. "Hey, I took over Atlantis in ninth grade. Nothing to worry about, right?" But Rue caught the shift in his tone, her gaze narrowing as she wheeled closer.
"Why are you acting like this?" she demanded, pouting as she leaned in.
"Like what?" He chuckled, blowing her a playful kiss.
Rue's cheeks turned red, and she wheeled back, trying to compose herself. "Fine! Do whatever you want, see if I care." She huffed and exited with a frustrated sigh.
The moment she was gone, Mel slipped out of the chains, his grin fading as he clenched his fists. "If I keep showing my pain, people will look down on me. I have to hide it, especially from Rue. But fighting Bimoth… that's something I need. I need a consequence." With determination, he opened the window and took flight.
But just as he was about to leave, he felt a tug, turning to find Rue gripping his arm, clinging to the window frame. She hugged him from behind, her tears wetting his shirt as she whispered, "Please don't go." Surprised, he quickly pulled her back into the room.
"Are you crazy?" he scolded, his voice softening when he saw her face streaked with tears.
"If you need to hide what you're feeling, fine," she said, her voice trembling. "But don't fake it with me. It felt like… like you didn't even care about what I was saying." She held onto him tightly, her fingers digging into his shirt, her pain as real as his own.