We found the king in the grand hall near the eastern wing of the mansion. The once pristine space was now a battlefield—stone walls scarred with deep gashes, shattered furniture scattered across the floor, and the faint metallic tang of blood hanging in the air.
The king stood at the center of it all, surrounded by the golden-armored knights who had fought valiantly at his side. His regal presence was undeniable, but he looked utterly spent. His dark hair, streaked with gray, clung to his damp forehead, and his heavy breaths revealed the toll the battle had taken. His armor, once polished and gleaming, was dented and scratched, bearing the marks of countless blows. Yet, despite the exhaustion etched into his face, his eyes burned with determination and authority.
I scanned the room, searching for the King's Shadows—the elite warriors who had turned the tide of the battle with their sudden and deadly intervention. Their presence had been unmistakable before: swift, precise, and devastating. They had moved like phantoms, their black armor adorned with intricate glyph patterns that shimmered faintly in the dim light, their flowing cloaks seemingly woven from shadows themselves. Each carried unique weapons, ranging from wickedly curved swords to twin-bladed axes, all imbued with subtle glyphs that pulsed with restrained power. Their movements had been a blur of efficiency, dismantling enemies with surgical precision.
Yet now, there was no sign of them. Even with my resonance skill, I couldn't detect a single trace of their presence—not a sound, not a flicker of movement. It was as if they had vanished into thin air, leaving behind only the results of their handiwork.
When the king saw us, his shoulders relaxed, and a look of profound relief softened his weary features. His eyes brightened ever so slightly, and a faint, genuine smile replaced the grim line of his lips.
"Elara," he called out, his voice warm and full of emotion. He beckoned her forward with open arms.
The princess ran to him without hesitation, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace. For a moment, the weight of the battle seemed to lift from the room.
"Are you hurt anywhere, Father?" she asked, her voice trembling with worry as she clung to him.
He laughed, the sound hearty despite his fatigue, and patted her gently on the back, his hand radiating the reassurance only a father could provide. "Your father is not that old yet, my dear. Young whelps like this can hardly scratch me, let alone do any real damage."
I couldn't help but marvel at his composure, even in the face of such chaos.
The king's gaze shifted to me, and he straightened slightly, his commanding presence returning. "Young Caelan," he called, motioning for me to step forward.
I obeyed, bowing deeply as I approached, but he raised a hand to stop me. "There's no need for that," he said kindly. "You've done well protecting my precious daughter. She was not wrong in wanting to bring you to the capital. I see now the merit of her wisdom."
His praise was sincere and unreserved, and I felt heat rise to my ears, my face reddening as I tried to suppress my shy grin. Even the golden-armored knights surrounding him gave me approving nods, their expressions carrying a mixture of respect and gratitude.
The king's gaze then shifted to the carnage around him. His expression darkened, his brows furrowing deeply as he took in the bodies of the attackers and the strange weapons scattered across the hall. He sighed heavily, stroking Elara's head absentmindedly, as if grounding himself while lost in thought.
"These are troubling signs," he said, his voice low but resolute. His eyes lingered on one of the strange weapons, the faint glow of its glyphs casting an eerie light on the bloodstained floor. "Whoever armed these men has power and resources unlike anything we've encountered. This was no mere attack—it was a message. And one I cannot afford to ignore."
His hand rested protectively on Elara's shoulder, his face a mixture of concern and resolve. "This kingdom has enemies in the shadows. And now, we must prepare for what comes next."
**
It was almost dawn by the time the fighting ceased. The reinforcements that had poured in were now relieving the exhausted soldiers and knights who had defended the mansion. Some faces showed relief, others were haunted by the events of the night. The tension in the air was still palpable, but for now, quiet had returned.
I was in Elara's room, sitting quietly by her side. To my surprise, the king hadn't seemed to mind that his daughter was sharing a room with me. Maybe he thought it was safer this way, but still... it felt odd.
Elara, who had been through more than anyone her age should ever endure, was fast asleep next to me. She clung to my arm like it was a lifeline, her small hands gripping tightly even in her dreams. Her face, serene and peaceful in sleep, softened the weight on my chest. It was... cute.
I always thought having a little sister might be nice, and yeah—this felt like that. A protective warmth. It was a different feeling from having a little brother, like I did back in the village. My brother had taken over the farm when I left, pursuing my dreams of adventure and exploration. I wondered what he'd think if he saw me here, protecting royalty.
I watched Elara sleep for a while before my own exhaustion claimed me. But my rest wasn't peaceful. My dreams were chaotic and messy, a swirling storm of broken images and fear. I saw flashes of the fight—Razorwind's cruel smirk, the sharp gust of wind that nearly tore me apart, the strange weapons of the attackers. And Elara, small and terrified, screaming for me as I bled out, helpless to protect her. Then there were darker, shapeless things—whispers, shadows, and the overwhelming sense of failure. The weight of what could have been crushed down on me.
I woke up with a sharp gasp, my chest heaving as though I'd just surfaced from drowning. For a moment, I couldn't tell what was real and what was part of the nightmare. Then I looked over and saw Elara still asleep, her breaths steady and even. The sight of her brought a measure of calm, but my heart still felt heavy.
The sun had not yet risen, but a faint glow in the horizon hinted at the approaching morning. I felt restless, the walls of the mansion too stifling after everything that had happened. I hadn't truly been anywhere outside of this room or the nearby corridors since arriving in Kirel. I needed to move, to breathe.
Carefully, I disentangled myself from Elara's grip, making sure not to wake her. She had been through so much—too much—and needed her rest. Despite everything, she was still just a child. She deserved a moment of peace.
I quietly walked to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face to shake off the lingering remnants of my nightmare. My reflection stared back at me, looking just as tired as I felt. My arms bore faint marks from the night before, shallow cuts and bruises that reminded me how close I'd come to not seeing this morning.
Exiting the room, I stopped to inform one of the golden-armored knights stationed outside. He nodded and returned to his post, his polished armor catching the faint glow of the rising sun.
"Enjoy your walk," he said curtly, his tone surprisingly polite. The treatment I'd been receiving since last night was... different. Respectful. It was a strange shift from the earlier whispers about the "lucky peasant boy who stumbled into saving the princess."
I moved through the halls, noting how quickly the place had been cleaned up. Servants worked quietly but efficiently, scrubbing away bloodstains and repairing minor damages. The smell of smoke and battle lingered faintly, but already, the mansion was beginning to look like its pristine, opulent self again.
As I passed by an open doorway, I heard the low murmur of voices. The king was inside, surrounded by his advisors and the magistrate. I slowed my steps, overhearing fragments of their conversation.
"... strange weapons. We need answers before the kingdom grows restless," the magistrate said, his voice steady but tinged with concern.
"They were no common mercenaries," one of the advisors added. "This was calculated, coordinated. Someone with resources wanted us to fall."
The king's voice, though heavy with weariness, carried an edge of steel. "We'll find who's behind this. I want every lead followed, every kingdom and ally questioned. This cannot be ignored."
I glanced into the room. The king's face was pale and drawn, his shoulders tense as if he carried the weight of the entire kingdom. The magistrate looked equally exhausted, his usual stoicism barely concealing his fatigue. Neither of them had rested since the attack, and it showed.
As I continued walking, I caught snippets of whispered conversations among the soldiers. One group mentioned that the queen's body had been recovered and was on its way to Kirel. They said it would arrive sometime today.
Hearing that, a knot tightened in my stomach. The reality of what had happened—of what I'd seen—settled over me like a cold shadow. I couldn't imagine what the king and Elara were feeling, knowing that Serenya would return not alive, but as a lifeless form.
I stepped outside into the early morning light, taking in the fresh air and the city beyond the walls. Kirel was beginning to stir, its people waking to another day, blissfully unaware of the horrors that had unfolded mere hours ago. I thought about the capital—Eryndal—and how we'd likely depart for it tomorrow.
For now, though, I just walked, letting the city's quiet hum distract me from my thoughts. I didn't know what the future held, but I had a sinking feeling that things were about to get even more complicated.