The warm sun dipped low over the kingdom, casting long shadows over the courtyard as Arlen sat on the stone steps, watching the distant mountain peaks. His fingers absently traced the outline of the training gloves on his hands, the same gloves he had worn throughout countless training sessions with Sir Rayen. Yet today felt different. He had felt it during the sparring match—the power within him. A flicker of something much stronger than he'd ever anticipated.
"You've been quiet, Arlen," came a soft voice behind him. Arlen turned to see his father, King Helios, approaching with that regal poise that always seemed to command attention. His golden armor gleamed in the fading light, and his long black hair fluttered in the breeze. His father's gaze was calm yet intense, a warrior king who had once united the lands with nothing but his strength and resolve.
"I've been thinking," Arlen began, standing up quickly as if caught off guard by the presence of his father. "About what Sir Rayen said, about my flame. I—I think I might've figured out how to use it a bit more." His words stumbled out, but there was no mistaking the pride in his voice.
King Helios' eyebrows rose slightly, a flicker of interest in his normally composed expression. "Is that so?" he asked, his deep voice warm with curiosity. "Tell me, then, what did you manage to do?"
Arlen hesitated for a moment, but the memory of the training session surged back in his chest. The heat in his fists. The shock of seeing Rayen's surprised face. "I… I coated my hands with flame. Just a little. It was enough to surprise Sir Rayen, but I still couldn't control it completely. It's not much, but it's something."
His father studied him carefully, his piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly as though weighing every word. "You have the potential to wield fire as your father did before you, Arlen. But power is nothing without control. If you cannot control it, it will control you."
Arlen nodded, the weight of his father's words sinking in. He respected his father deeply, not just because of his position, but because of his wisdom—wisdom earned through years of battles, both on the field and within the heart.
"How did you learn to control your flame?" Arlen asked, stepping closer.
King Helios smiled faintly, a rare softness in his features. "It wasn't easy, Arlen. Fire is both a gift and a burden. But it was my battle to fight. Every king must face his own demons, and we must learn to channel that which makes us dangerous into something that serves others." His eyes sharpened. "Come with me. There's a place I want to show you."
Arlen followed his father to the far edge of the royal gardens, where the sun's golden glow illuminated the stone archways. They were far from the training grounds, in a secluded area known only to the royal family. King Helios stood tall and turned to face his son, his posture regal yet relaxed, as if he were preparing to impart something significant.
"Do you see the way the wind moves through the trees?" the King asked, his gaze fixed on the swaying branches. "It moves with purpose, as does the flame. Power, when harnessed, becomes a force of nature. But if it is uncontrolled, it can destroy everything in its path."
Arlen was silent, watching his father closely. "So… what do I need to do to learn control?"
Without warning, King Helios' eyes flashed a deep, burning amber, the color of a fire that burned beneath his calm exterior. He raised his hand to the sky and Arlen gasped as the air around them trembled. The ground beneath his feet rumbled lightly, and the sky above seemed to darken, heavy with the force of an unseen storm.
The King had unleashed a mere fraction of his power, but the sheer force was enough to make Arlen feel small, insignificant in comparison. The wind howled around them, a raw, untamed power that seemed to come alive at his father's command. The King lowered his hand, and the atmosphere immediately relaxed, returning to its peaceful state.
"You must learn to wield your flame as I wield the winds," King Helios said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of the lesson. "You will know when to release it, and when to hold back. It is not just a matter of strength, Arlen. It is about discipline, and about knowing your own limits."
Arlen stood in awe, his father's power overwhelming, yet oddly comforting. "How did you… how do you know when to stop?"
King Helios' gaze softened as he placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "When you can't feel the fire burning in your chest anymore, when it no longer overwhelms you, that is when you will truly be able to control it."
Arlen nodded slowly, his mind racing. It was no longer just a desire to learn magic—it was a need to understand himself, to learn the depths of his own power.
As they stood there in silence, the sounds of the kingdom bustling beyond the walls filled the air. Arlen could hear the faint sounds of soldiers training, people laughing, children playing. All of it was a reminder of the peace his father had worked so hard to protect.
For a moment, Arlen allowed himself to imagine the future. He wanted to protect this world, his kingdom, just like his father had. Perhaps one day, he would be the one to protect it all.