"My lady, wait!" Sir Albert's voice echoed across the grand hall. The Grand Duke's trusted aide was chasing after me, his footsteps hurried as I swept through the ballroom doors.
I didn’t stop. “Tell the Grand Duke I’m leaving,” I said over my shoulder, my tone clipped, indifferent.
I cast a glance back. Across the ballroom, the Grand Duke stood among the other nobles, a polished smile on his face—the same smile he always wore in public. It was charming and practiced, but hollow. I knew that smile too well, the way it stretched thin when he spoke to me, devoid of warmth. He reserved his genuine indifference for me, and sometimes, I wondered if I preferred that to the false pleasantries.
"But, my lady, the ball isn't over!" Sir Albert pleaded again, desperation edging his voice. He didn’t understand. He didn’t know that staying wasn’t an option tonight.
"I'll use the Grand Duke's carriage," I replied, still not turning around. "Tell him I'm unwell."
Sir Albert sighed, conceding defeat, and silently followed me as we left the ball. I needed to leave now—before innocent lives were drawn into this tangled mess. I couldn’t let them kill the Grand Duke too.
And then, it came—the memory.
"ELLIOT!"
A voice. My voice. A flash of panic. What had happened after that? Why couldn’t I remember?
I woke abruptly, heart pounding, drenched in cold sweat. Blinking, I took in my surroundings. Aris stood beside me, golden hair gleaming even in the dim light, holding a pair of scissors. Black strands of hair lay scattered across the floor. Beside him was a man with striking black hair—though it was now unevenly cut—and a familiar presence.
"My lady, are you all right?" Aris asked, concern laced in his voice. "Shall we summon the Grand Duke?"
The memory was slipping away, but I couldn’t focus on it. My gaze locked onto the man beside Aris, the glimmer of recognition sparking. Those green eyes. That small scar by his left eye.
"Sebas?" I whispered, almost unsure of what I said. "Is that you?"
He nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. "Aris thought my hair was a nuisance," he said with a chuckle. "So, he cut it."
"Of course, I had to!" Aris interrupted, exasperated. "You were starting to look like a ghost! What were you planning, to become a mage like me?"
Sebas rolled his eyes. "This so-called 'Great Mage' didn’t even tell me that he was one. One minute he was just a noble, next thing I know, he's the immortal Great Mage of this Magic Tower."
"I told you, Sebas," Aris replied, snipping with a little too much vigor. "You were buried in doing your duty, and I was buried in discovering new magic. I haven't had the time to explain things to you."
Watching them, I couldn’t help but laugh—a soft, unexpected sound that filled the room. They paused, their banter interrupted as they looked at me.
"Sorry," I said, covering my mouth, "I didn’t mean to interrupt. It’s just... you two. You’re like bickering brothers."
They exchanged glances, then burst into laughter themselves. "He's my childhood friend but he was also my mentor, unfortunately," Sebas said, smirking. "This pervert immortal mage has been stuck with me for years."
"Pervert mage?" Aris huffed, feigning offense. "Says the noble who can’t even brush his hair properly!"
Then it struck me, "Sebas, you're a noble?"
They both paused and Sebas looked at me with a slight panic in his face, he managed to smile and nod at me. "I'm a noble, but my family and the house I belong to aren't that relevant, Sophie."
I brushed it off and they proceeded to their banter with each other, I couldn't help but smile at the sight of old friends reuniting once again. Their light-hearted teasing filled the room, and for a moment, the weight of the past lifted. They shared stories of their first meeting, their fights, their adventures, weaving tales of camaraderie and mischief. And in the warmth of their laughter, I felt something stir—hope.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough for now.
After a few days of resting, we assembled in a grand hall where Aris usually meets with his followers of Arch Magic Tower. The storm outside battered the windows with relentless force, the wind howling like a wounded animal. Rain streaked down the glass in jagged rivers, and the occasional flash of lightning illuminated the dark corridors of Aris’s tower. I walked through the dimly lit hallways, the shadows shifting as the glow of enchanted lanterns flickered and wavered. The soft patter of my footsteps echoed, but the air was thick with something else—anticipation, maybe.
Sebas had been restless all day, his usual calm cracking at the edges. I followed him through the winding halls without quite knowing why. There was something about the set of his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched, that made me curious. He was always composed, and steady. Tonight, though, he seemed... heavier.
He stopped in front of Aris’s great hall, pushing the door open and stepping inside. I stayed behind, just out of sight, unsure if I should go. I wasn’t proud of it, but curiosity got the better of me, and I crept closer.
From the hallway, I could hear the low murmur of voices. Aris’s steady, melodic tone, and Sebas’s deeper voice, strained with something I couldn’t quite place. I leaned closer, the storm’s roar muffled their words until Sebas spoke more clearly.
“The Craigs have already crossed into Helinia’s borders,” he said. “If we don’t act, they’ll take the capital.”
Aris responded in his usual calm manner. “And what does your father propose?”
Sebas let out a short, bitter laugh. “Diplomacy, as always. But the Craigs don’t negotiate. As the Crown Prince, I can’t wait for him to see reason. We need to act now.”
Crown Prince?
The words hit me with the force of the storm outside. I blinked, my mind racing. Sebas was the Crown Prince of the Helinia Empire.
I leaned back against the wall, steadying myself. Crown Prince. Not just a knight or a soldier or a noble. The Crown Prince. The realization left me reeling, but not from betrayal—there was no room for that. Instead, it was a pure, astonished surprise. How had I not seen it?
Inside, Sebas continued speaking, but I was too lost in thought to hear. All the pieces fell into place—the way he carried himself, the weight in his eyes. It had always been there, I just hadn’t known what it meant.
Before I could slip away, the door opened, and Sebas stepped into the hall, his expression distant until he saw me. His green eyes widened, surprise flashing across his face.
“Sophie,” he said, his voice cautious. “What are you doing here?”
I met his gaze, still trying to make sense of what I’d just heard. “You’re the Crown Prince,” I said, the words feeling foreign as they left my lips.
His face tightened for a moment, then relaxed into something softer. “Yes,” he admitted, his voice calm but resigned.
I shook my head, not in disbelief, but in wonder. “All this time…”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t hide it from you. It just never seemed important.”
I laughed softly, though it was breathless with shock. “Not important? You’re THE Crown Prince, Sebas.”
“And you’ve always treated me as anything but,” he said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
That stopped me, and I realized he was right. He had never once carried himself with the arrogance I might have expected from royalty. He was Sebas, steady, kind, and relentless. Prince or not, he was still the man I knew.
“It’s strange,” I said, tilting my head. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to feel, but… I’m not angry. Just surprised.”
His expression softened further, relief flickering in his eyes. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
“For what?”
“For not looking at me differently.”
I smiled, a real one this time. “I couldn’t if I tried.”
After discovering the real identity of Sebas, we decided to change the room for this important talk. They transferred to Aris's study. As I lingered in the shadows just beyond Aris’s study, my hearracedng, unable to pull myself away from the heated exchange unfolding inside. The tension hung in the air like smoke, suffocating, inescapable.
Within the fire-lit chamber, Aris sat, the very picture of ethereal serenity. His golden hair shimmered like liquid sunlight, cascading down his back, and his golden eyes reflected the flickering flames. He sharpened an ornate dagger with deliberate precision, the whetstone whispering against the blade. His calm was unnerving as if he were untouched by the storm outside—and the storm within.
Sebas stood by the window, his freshly trimmed black hair framing his scarred face. The firelight caught the intensity in his green eyes, eyes that burned with frustration and something deeper—desperation. The storm outside seemed to echo the fury brewing in his heart. He turned, stepping into the light, his voice low but urgent.
“Come with me, Aris. To the frontlines.”
Without looking up, Aris replied, “No.”
Sebas’s fists clenched, and he took a step closer. “You didn’t even think about it.”
“I don’t need to.”
The air grew heavier. Sebas’s voice sharpened as he approached, his boots striking the floor like distant thunder. “This isn’t just another war,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “The Craigs are using forbidden magic—dark magic. You are the only one who understands it. We need you.”
Aris set the dagger down with a quiet sigh, his golden eyes meeting Sebas’s fiery gaze. “My expertise,” he said softly, “is in preserving life, not destroying it.”
Sebas’s jaw tightened. “And what about those who are already dying?” he demanded, his voice breaking. “Every day, we lose more ground. Children are being slaughtered. You could stop this.”
Aris leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap, his expression unreadable but his voice heavy with quiet sorrow. “Magic does not end wars, Sebas. It only escalates them.”
Sebas let out a sharp breath, pacing like a caged animal. His frustration boiled over, and he snapped, “You’re afraid, aren’t you?”
That stilled Aris. His gaze turned cold, piercing. “Afraid? Of what?”
Sebas stopped, turning to face him fully. “Of losing control. Of what you might become.”
Silence fell, broken only by the soft crackle of the fire. Aris’s voice softened. “I have seen what war does, Sebas. I have seen men break, kingdoms crumble, and souls consumed by darkness. I know what it would make of me.”
Sebas’s shoulders slumped, his voice weary. “So, you’ll just sit here, safe, while watching others die?”
Slowly, Aris rose. He crossed the room with an unearthly grace, placing a hand on Sebas’s shoulder, his touch gentle but firm. “I fight in other ways. You have your battlefield, and I have mine.”
Sebas’s breath hitched. His voice broke as he whispered, “I need you. Not as a mage. As my friend, Aris.”
Aris’s expression softened, his golden eyes dimming with empathy. “I am here, Your Majesty,” he said quietly. “Always.”
For a long moment, they stood in the golden firelight, two men bound by years of friendship, their paths diverging but their hearts still entwined. The door creaked softly behind me as I stepped away, retreating into the hall, leaving them to the quiet storm within.
The Craigs were moving. War was coming and yet the mysteries that I'm trying to unfold are still unclear. And this, I knew, was only the beginning of something bigger any battle that I was going to face.
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