Chereads / The Shattered Light In Darkness / Chapter 4 - Coming Of Age

Chapter 4 - Coming Of Age

The day of my sixteenth birthday was near, but to me, it felt like the weight of a crown was settling heavily on my shoulders. The Kingdom of Valeria was abuzz with excitement. The streets were adorned with banners, the air thick with anticipation. Thousands of guests were expected—nobles, dignitaries, and commoners alike—invited to celebrate the momentous occasion. The festivities promised grandeur that would make history, but for me, it was just a stark reminder of a future I wasn't ready to face.

Inside the palace, preparations for the celebration were in full swing. The kitchens were filled with the smell of fresh bread and roasted meats, servants scurrying through the hallways, decorating the grand hall with golden chandeliers and royal tapestries. The sounds of music, of laughter and song, filled the air. It should have been a time of joy. But I found it suffocating. Everywhere I turned, there was something that reminded me of the life I never asked for. Of the royal responsibilities that hung around my neck like an unrelenting noose.

I stood in front of the mirror in my room, trying on outfits, adjusting my royal blue tunic. The fabric was fine, its soft texture a reflection of my status. The royal armband on my arm felt heavier than it ever had before—an emblem of my lineage, my house, my family's legacy. It was too much. Too much to carry, too much to live up to. I barely recognized myself in the mirror anymore. My golden hair, neatly styled for the occasion, felt stiff, unnatural. I longed for the messy, carefree look that used to feel more like me, but today, it had to be perfect.

The reflection staring back at me wasn't just Kaizen anymore. It was Prince Kaizen—the son of King Demitri, the younger brother to Connor, the heir to the throne, the last hope for Valeria's future. But none of that mattered to me. I wasn't ready for any of it. I didn't want it. The world outside might have been celebrating, but I was trapped in a cage of my own making, unable to escape the expectations that had been placed on me before I was even born.

A soft knock on the door broke my thoughts, dragging me back to reality.

"Kaizen, are you ready?" The voice was familiar, warm, yet tinged with an urgency I couldn't quite place.

"Almost," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

The door creaked open, and Marcus stepped inside. My older brother, always confident, always carefree. Today, though, his usual grin seemed strained, his eyes darker, more thoughtful than I'd ever seen them before. He studied me for a moment, his gaze lingering on the royal attire I had reluctantly donned.

"Still brooding, I see," Marcus teased, though there was no real humor in his tone. It was as if he was trying to mask something—something he didn't want me to see.

"I don't know if I'll ever be ready," I muttered, adjusting the collar of my tunic, my fingers fumbling with the fabric in a way that felt foreign.

Marcus stepped closer, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. "I understand more than you think," he said, his voice softer than usual. "But soon, Kaizen, you will become a man."

He clapped me on the back with a force that nearly knocked me forward. I straightened, but the weight of his words hung in the air.

"I don't feel like it," I whispered, though I didn't think he'd hear.

Marcus didn't respond to that. Instead, he gave me a knowing look—one that I couldn't quite decipher—and then something in his eyes changed.

"Get your sword, Kaizen. We're training."

Training?

The confusion must have shown on my face because Marcus gave me a tight, almost forced smile. "You think you can be ready for this week without it? No distractions, Kaizen. You need to give everything you've got. Today isn't just another day—it's a turning point."

I opened my mouth to protest, to tell him that I didn't need to train on my birthday week, that I wasn't in the mood for any of this, but the words died on my tongue. The urgency in his tone told me it wasn't a suggestion.

"Get your sword. Now," he commanded, his voice firm.

Reluctantly, I grabbed my sword from the stand by the door. It was my weapon, passed down from father to son. Its hilt fit perfectly in my hand, a familiar weight I had grown accustomed to. But today, it felt strangely cold, like an extension of the very duties I wished I could escape.

Marcus didn't wait for me to catch up. He strode out of the room, his footsteps echoing in the grand hallway, a pace that left me little choice but to follow. The training grounds were located at the far end of the palace, outside in the sprawling gardens. A place where I had spent countless hours over the years, under the watchful eye of my father, under the demanding gaze of my brothers. I had always trained, always fought, but today, something was different. Something was off.

When we arrived, Marcus immediately assumed his stance, the familiar glint in his eyes that I knew meant he was in battle mode. There would be no easy sparring today. I wasn't sure what he was expecting, but I knew it wasn't going to be anything like the usual practice.

"You've been slacking off lately," Marcus snapped, his gaze piercing. "You've been too distracted, too lost in your head. You want to be ready for today? Then show me what you've got. No more excuses."

His words stung, but I didn't have the energy to argue. I raised my sword, matching his stance, but the question still lingered in the back of my mind. What was he trying to do? What did he want me to prove?

We began. The clash of steel on steel filled the air as our swords met, sparks flying from the impact. The rhythm of the fight was fast, brutal. Each strike, each parry, was sharper than the last. My muscles burned, but I didn't dare stop. Marcus pushed me harder than he ever had before, his strikes coming faster, harder. I could barely keep up, and yet he showed no mercy.

"You're not fighting like your life depends on it," Marcus said, his voice tight with intensity. "Fight like today is your last. Fight like you have nothing to lose."

I swallowed, my heart racing. I didn't understand what he meant. What was he trying to teach me? I couldn't keep up. My body screamed for rest, but Marcus showed no signs of slowing. Every move he made was calculated, precise, meant to break me down and push me beyond my limits. He wasn't holding back.

The fight felt endless. My arms were heavy, my legs wobbled with exhaustion. Sweat stung my eyes, but I kept going. My body moved on instinct, each swing of my sword becoming less about technique and more about survival. There was no thinking, only the fight. There was nothing left except the rhythm of combat.

After what felt like hours, Marcus finally lowered his sword, his breathing ragged but controlled. "Enough," he said, his voice low. "That's enough for today."

I dropped to my knees, my body collapsing under the weight of the training. My muscles screamed in protest, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I was too tired to think.

Marcus didn't say anything else. He turned on his heel and walked away, his footsteps echoing in the quiet. I stayed on the ground, my chest heaving, trying to make sense of what had just happened. What was all that about? Why had he pushed me so hard?

But before I could come to any conclusions, the soft sound of footsteps interrupted my thoughts. I turned to see Connor, my older brother, walking toward me. Unlike Marcus, Connor was calm, collected, always the one to approach things with quiet precision.

"Kaizen," he said, his voice gentle but serious, "there's something I need to tell you."

I frowned, still too exhausted to really process the gravity of his words.

"What is it?"

Connor studied me for a long moment before speaking. "The world is changing. Things beyond your understanding are already in motion. You, as a prince, need to understand them if you're to survive."

His words sent a chill down my spine. "What things?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Connor's gaze darkened. "There's a choice you'll have to make soon, that we all make. A choice between what is easy and what is right. A choice that will affect the kingdom, your family, and yourself. You need to be prepared."

I stared at him, my mind racing. "What choice?"

Connor's voice dropped to a near whisper. "Everything you know will be put to the test. And when that time comes, you'll have to choose. Between duty and freedom."

The words weighed heavily on me, but before I could respond, he turned and walked away, his silhouette fading into the shadows. 

The next few days passed in a blur, each one blending into the next as preparations for my sixteenth birthday ramped up. My mother, Queen Anastasia, was in full swing, organizing every detail of the celebration. She was the picture of grace and poise, as always, her brown hair woven into an intricate braid, her calm, yet ever-watchful eyes scanning the palace for any oversight. I could see the weight of the occasion in her expression, even as she smiled through the hustle. She had been planning this day for years, preparing for the moment when I would officially step into the role I had been born into.

She was not like my father. King Demitri was commanding, always focused on the affairs of the kingdom, while my mother had a gentleness to her, but still a sharp intelligence that demanded respect. She had always been the quiet backbone of the kingdom, yet her presence was overwhelming. Despite the grandeur surrounding me, I couldn't shake the feeling that this would be the day my freedom, my choices, would become an illusion.

Each time I saw my family in the days leading up to the celebration, I felt the weight of expectations growing heavier. They each had their own way of preparing me, of trying to help me become the person I needed to be for the kingdom.

Marcus, ever the warrior, had been relentless with my training. It was as if he was determined to shape me into the sword-fighter I was supposed to be—no excuses. Each morning, he would drag me to the training grounds before dawn, where I was subjected to grueling physical challenges that pushed me to my breaking point.

"Do you want to protect those dear to you, Kaizen?" Marcus would ask, his voice rough with the intensity of our sparring. "Do you want to protect it? Then you need to be able to fight with everything you've got. You need to be stronger than anyone else."

And I would fight. I would swing my sword until my arms burned, my muscles screamed for mercy, and my breath came in shallow gasps. There were no breaks, no mercy. Marcus believed in strength above all else, and he was determined to teach me that lesson the only way he knew how. There was no room for weakness. I hated every second of it, but I couldn't stop. The prince I was supposed to become wasn't allowed to be weak.

Connor, on the other hand, had a different approach. When he found me one afternoon, drenched in sweat and nursing sore muscles from Marcus' latest training session, he didn't mention the sword. Instead, he told me to come with him. Without asking any questions, I followed him down long stone corridors until we reached a small, quiet room. The air inside was cool and thick with the smell of herbs.

"I'm going to teach you something different," Connor said as he closed the door behind him, locking it to ensure we wouldn't be disturbed. "Something that will help you survive when the sword can't."

Survival. It sounded foreign, yet essential.

He gestured for me to sit as he gathered a small selection of scrolls and jars filled with dried plants. "Medicine, Kaizen," he said, pulling out a small vial and placing it in front of me. "You need to understand the body. How to heal, how to protect yourself when there's no one else around."

As he spoke, he demonstrated how to make a simple poultice for wounds. "You'll face things out there that you can't fight with a sword. Poison, illness, injuries that can kill you if you're not prepared. These things don't care about your royal blood."

I listened carefully, absorbing each word, each movement. Connor had always been calm and collected, and now, more than ever, I could see the depth of his wisdom. He wasn't just preparing me for the throne, he was preparing me for life.

"Monsters, Kaizen," he continued, pulling out a map, "The creatures we face aren't just mindless beasts. Some are cunning. Some can blend into the shadows, others can move faster than you can react. If you don't understand their strengths and weaknesses, you won't survive long enough to become the man you need to be."

He pointed to a section of the map. "Here—this is where you'll find the most dangerous beasts. And this is how you handle them."

The way he spoke made it clear: Connor was preparing me for more than just being a prince. He was preparing me for something more. A reality where my royal title wouldn't shield me. Where survival was something that would require more than just political savvy. I wasn't sure I was ready for that. But as I looked into his serious eyes, I knew I had no choice but to learn.

Finally, there was my mother. The night before my birthday, she found me alone in the grand hall, staring out of the window, watching the moonlight dance on the surface of the royal gardens. I had become so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even hear her approach.

"Kaizen," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and concern. "You're thinking too much again."

I didn't answer immediately. I didn't know what to say. I felt like I was being pulled in a hundred different directions, my future being dictated by others. My mother sat beside me, her presence calming.

"You've been given a great responsibility, Kaizen," she said, taking my hand in hers. "But that doesn't mean you have to shoulder it alone. Your father, your brothers, and I—we are here for you. You have a family that supports you, no matter what you choose."

Her words struck me deeper than I expected. There had always been this unspoken pressure to uphold the legacy of the crown, to be the prince the kingdom needed. But hearing her speak reminded me that I wasn't just a prince. I was her son. And in that moment, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I didn't have to face everything alone.

"You are not alone in this," she whispered. "You don't have to carry the weight of Valeria on your shoulders by yourself. Let us help you."

That night, as I lay in bed, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The weight of my crown, the pressure of my duties, the lessons from Marcus and Connor—they all seemed to blend together in a chaotic haze. But one thing stood out clearly: tomorrow would mark a turning point. Where I would choose...

Between duty and freedom.