The guards dragged Alek through the grand halls of Nytherion Castle, their grips firm and unyielding. He struggled against them, his voice echoing off the intricately carved stone walls.
"You can't do this to me!" Alek shouted, his tone sharp with indignation. "Do you know who I am?"
"Shut it, prince," one of the guards snapped, barely sparing him a glance. "This is a direct order from your father. He needs to see you."
Alek stiffened at the mention of the king, his struggles faltering as dread crept in.
The throne room doors loomed ahead, massive and imposing. When they swung open, light poured through the stained glass windows, casting vibrant patterns across the marble floor. At the far end, the king of the elves sat on an ornate throne, his presence radiating authority. Guards lined the hall, their spears glinting in the sunlight.
Alek was shoved forward, his feet catching awkwardly against the smooth floor. He straightened quickly, his posture tense as he faced his father.
"Aelara," the king began, his voice sharp and cold, looking Alek up and down. "What is this foolishness? Shapeshifting like some common beast? I called you here because I thought you came to your senses and quit this nonsense. But instead you stand before me as a disgrace to this family and all Nytherion elves."
Alek frowned, biting back the surge of frustration that bubbled up at the sound of his old name. He forced himself to keep calm. "Father, it's who I am. It doesn't change my loyalty or my strength. Why can't you just accept—"
The king stood abruptly, the air around him crackling with authority. His voice boomed across the hall. "Accept it? Accept this... Atherian nonsense corrupting my own bloodline? Those tree-hugging fools have made you weak, filling your head with lies and immorality!"
Alek's jaw clenched, his fists curling tightly at his sides. His thoughts flicked briefly to what Freya had said the night before. Taking a deep breath, he steadied his voice. "It doesn't matter. You always talk about pride and strength, but you can't even accept your own child for who they are."
The king's expression twisted, his hand slamming down on the arm of his throne. The sharp crack echoed in the vast chamber. "Aelara," he said, his tone venomous. "I'm tired of this foolishness. I will not have any daughter of mine running around pretending to be something they're not."
Alek winced at the word daughter, the rejection striking deeper than he'd expected.
"The Atherians are naive, ignorant animals with a culture inferior to all others," the king continued, his voice laced with disdain. "Their bubble of Eden will soon burst, and they will get what's coming to them."
Alek's breath caught. For a moment, he stood frozen, staring at the man who had barely taken the time to show up to their birth. The man that didn't even let them live in the same house. The man that made them fight for every inch of respect. Then anger surged through him, and before he could think better of it, his hand shot out. A glowing portal swirled into existence, its edges crackling with energy as his weapon was dark and tindals tried to escape. He knew he wasn't supposed to open it, but the anger overwhelmed him.
"You don't know anything about them!" Alek shouted, his voice shaking with rage.
The guards moved instantly. One flipped open a spellbook, and the floating red gem above them flared to life. A shimmering wave of energy shot out, canceling Alek's weapon gate with a sharp zap.
Alek staggered back, his magic dissipating in a flash of sparks.
The king sneered. "Look at what those animals have done to you. Disgusting. You're lucky we share blood, or I would have you executed for this insolence."
Alek's breath came in short, shallow bursts, his fists trembling at his sides.
The king gestured sharply. "I banish you until you come to your senses. If you want to act like an animal, then go live with them."
Alek barely had time to process the words before the guards seized him again, their grips firm as they dragged him toward the doors. He struggled against them, his voice rising.
"You can't just throw me out for this!" he yelled. "I'm still your child!"
The king turned his back, his tone cold. "You stopped being my child the moment you chose to side with those Atherian fools."
The massive castle gates creaked open, and Alek was shoved unceremoniously outside. His bag landed at his feet, the sound of the heavy doors slamming shut behind him echoing in the stillness.
For a long moment, Alek stood there, staring at the walls of the kingdom he had called home. Anger and sorrow warred within him, his hands balling into fists as he knelt to pick up his bag.
His jaw tightened as he muttered under his breath. "I'll show you father, all of you fucks that had know faith in me. I'll be back, I just need more power…"
The mist hung low over the woods near Nytherion's gates, Eva perched cross-legged on a low stone wall, idly twirling a small flower between her fingers. Beside her, Jorma lounged with the casual ease of someone who never worried about a thing, his hands tucked behind his head.
"So... where have you been all this time?" Eva asked, her tone light but curious.
"Here and there," Jorma replied, smirking. "Shadow-walking doesn't exactly come with a map, you know."
Eva rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. I was just curious."
Before Jorma could retort, the sound of the castle gates groaning open drew their attention. Both turned their heads as two guards emerged, roughly tossing Alek onto the ground outside the gates. His bag landed a few feet away with a dull thud.
"What the heck?" Eva muttered, straightening.
Alek stayed where he was, stunned. His hands pressed into the dirt, his breath coming in short bursts. For a moment, his shoulders trembled, and his eyes filled with water, but when he glanced up and saw Eva and Jorma staring, he blinked hard, forcing the tears away.
Eva hopped down from the wall and approached cautiously, crouching next to Alek. Jorma stayed back, his head tilted as he watched with mild interest.
"Alek?" Eva's voice was soft. "What happened in there?"
Alek brushed her hand away and pushed himself to his feet. "I'm banished," he said shortly, not meeting her eyes. "That's all you need to know."
Eva tilted her head, her lips quirking into a small, mischievous smile. "Well... I guess you're stuck with us now, huh?"
Alek's jaw tightened, and he stepped back, holding his bag close. "Just... leave me alone," he muttered, turning away.
As Alek began to walk, the shadows at his feet twisted. Jorma's form emerged from the darkness, leaning casually against a tree.
"Running off already?" Jorma teased. "That's no way to treat your new roommates."
Alek glared at him. "What do you even want?"
Jorma's smirk softened, replaced by something almost thoughtful. "Maybe an idea of why your dad's so... passionate about Eden. A little history lesson, if you will."
Before Alek could respond, the shadows deepened, and faint images flickered in the air around them. Jorma's voice grew quieter.
"Seeming as despite being royalty, you are unaware. A couple of generations ago, the elven kingdoms split during a civil war," he began. "Your kingdom? It was born out of a desire to rule Atheria's Eden."
The scene shifted, muted colors showing a chaotic throne room. An assassin's blade flashed, striking an elven king as shadowy figures loomed in the background.
"The war was short," Jorma continued. "It ended when your great-grandfather was assassinated—a warning from the Elite Legion to stay away from Eden. At least, that's the version most people know. The truth? Well, let's just say things don't quite add up."
The images faded, and Alek stared, his thoughts churning. "Yeah, that tracks," he said bitterly. "No wonder my dad hates you guys..."
Jorma raised an eyebrow, his grin returning. "Hate's a strong word. Fear's more accurate. But I wonder... how much do you think he's told you?"
Suspicion flickered across Alek's face. "Wait. How do you even know what happened in the castle?"
Jorma pointed down, and Alek's shadow rippled and distorted. A darker version of Jorma stepped out of it briefly before merging back into him.
"Let's just say I have a knack for keeping tabs," Jorma said smoothly. "You should really watch what you say around your shadow."
Alek exhaled deeply, the tension in his chest loosening slightly as exhaustion overtook him. He turned away.
Eva stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder. Her voice was kind, almost teasing. "Come on. We'll figure it out. For now, let's get you something to eat." She grinned. "I know how much you elves like your food."
Alek didn't respond, but he let her guide him as the three of them began walking away from the gates. He trailed slightly behind, his mind racing with thoughts of the throne room, his father's words, and the shadows Jorma had conjured.
Banished. Hated. But... I stood up for myself. That counts for something, right?
Behind them, the gates of Nytherion creaked shut, the sound reverberating through the woods. In the distance, a hooded figure lingered in the shadows, watching silently before disappearing into the mist.