The soft hum of laughter echoed through the quiet courtyard as Aelira clung gently to Yuan’s neck, the last of her spell blooming into full life. Petals danced on the breeze, light refracting off the gentle green of new leaves. For once, the four stone walls that had confined her felt… warm. Safe. Almost like home.
Then—
Click.
Click.
The sound of polished boots striking stone shattered the moment. Both Aelira and Yuan froze. That rhythm—controlled, heavy, unmistakable—made the air grow colder with every step.
The door swung open, and Vaelen stepped in.
His robes were dark, embroidered with constellations that shimmered like steel beneath moonlight. His gaze fell immediately upon the two. His sharp grey eyes scanned the field of flowers, and then the way Aelira’s arms clung around Yuan’s shoulders, her face flushed with joy.
His expression hardened.
Today marked five years since the day his sister and her husband—the Queen and King of Solhara—had died.
And here she was—the cause of their death—smiling.
Vaelen’s jaw clenched, and though he said nothing at first, the fury in his aura was unmistakable.
Yuan stepped back immediately. In one swift motion, he removed Aelira’s hands from around his neck and turned to face Vaelen with a sharp bow.
“Master.”
Vaelen’s voice came low and taut. “The southern border has become unstable. The Empire grows bolder by the day. You leave at first light tomorrow.”
Yuan blinked. “What—? But… Master, I thought my duty was to guard Aelira. Should her powers awaken—”
“Guard her?” Vaelen’s tone cut like a blade. “From where I stand, it seems you’ve forgotten that duty altogether. You’ve become her playmate.”
Aelira stepped forward, her voice trembling with defiance.
“That’s not true! Yuan’s trained me every day. He’s protected me, stayed with me, taught me everything. He’s done more than you—who hasn’t even looked at me for five years!”
Vaelen’s eyes snapped toward her. Cold. Condemning.
A wave of power pulsed from him—a crushing weight that dropped Aelira to her knees. Her breath hitched as the ground beneath her hands grew unbearably heavy. She could feel her pulse against the floor.
“You will not raise your voice at me,” Vaelen said, his voice laced with power. “Not when today is the day they died.”
Yuan’s eyes narrowed. “Master. Please.”
He stepped forward and bowed low once more, his voice composed but firm.
“I’ll prepare for tomorrow’s departure. But do not take your anger out on her. She’s not the one who failed.”
A flicker of something crossed Vaelen’s face—regret, maybe, buried too deep to surface.
Yuan turned to leave, but paused at the doorway. His eyes found Aelira one last time, her small form still bowed under Vaelen’s pressure.
Softly, he said, “It’s alright.”
Then he walked out, his cape swaying behind him, never once turning back again. Because if it he does, it will harder for him to leave her.
And just like that, Aelira was alone.
The silence in the chamber was thick. The flower petals trembled in the breeze. The magic she had cast just moments ago now seemed a cruel illusion—life blooming only to remind her of all that had been lost.
The door shut with a thud.
Yuan was gone.
Only silence remained in his absence, save for the soft flutter of petals still drifting through the air. Aelira stayed kneeling on the stone floor, staring at the place where he had stood just seconds ago—his warmth disappearing like mist on cold glass.
Vaelen turned his gaze to the flower field. With a sweep of his hand, magic swept across the blossoms like frost. The stems blackened, shriveled, and collapsed in an instant. The vibrant green and soft pinks became ash under his silent will.
“Focus your energy,” he said coolly, “on controlling your power. Not on nonsense like this.”
Aelira’s breath caught. Her fists clenched.
She turned her tear-wet eyes toward him. “You’ve taken everything from me!”
Her scream tore through the chamber like a blade. “My freedom! And now—Yuan! He was all I had! Why should I care about power? Why should I care about anything? I should just destroy the whole land and be done with it!”
The words were wild, empty of true intention—just the howl of a caged child. But to Vaelen, they rang like a warning bell. His eyes flashed with cold fury.
Another wave of his hand struck her hard, sending her flying into the stone wall. Her breath left her in a sharp gasp. Before she could move, Vaelen raised her with invisible force, suspending her mid-air by the throat.
Aelira struggled, small fingers grasping at her neck. Her toes scraped the wall behind her. Her green eyes—so like her mother’s—were filled with shock and pain. Tears welled up, trailing down her cheeks.
Then something in Vaelen broke. His hand trembled.
The rage in his chest cracked under the weight of her gaze. He dropped her, catching her with a soft enough pulse of magic that she landed without hitting the ground too hard.
Still, he did not kneel. Did not reach for her.
He only looked at her—distant, conflicted.
“Don’t speak as if you’re the only one who’s suffered,” he said, voice lower now, but no less sharp. “You, too, took everything from me and Kaeyla. Why would you be able to live, laugh and be comfortable?”
Aelira sat in silence, her small body trembling. But her eyes were still on him, searching—for guilt, for grief, for something human.
Vaelen’s voice deepened.
“Your sister,” he continued, “is only two years older than you. She stands before the court every day, alone. She fights for the kingdom while you sit in comfort behind these walls. If you ever lose control again, it’s not just your life that ends—hers will too. Is that what you want?”
The realisation came to her, her eyes have never gone as so blank. Aelira shook her head quickly, her voice cracking. “No… I’ll do anything for Kaeyla…”
Her voice broke.
“I know what I did,” she whispered. She swallowed, unable to finish. “I can’t ever face her.”
Her small fists clenched in her lap. “I don’t deserve to see her. You are right. I don’t deserve anything. I’ll get stronger. I’ll do better. I’ll pay for it all… even if is with my life.”
She was sobbing again, but quieter now. Like something was dying inside her—something tender and bright.
Vaelen turned away, fists at his sides. His lips parted, but no words came. For the eight year old in front of him, he couldn’t bend to her. Couldn’t reach out, not when his heart was clenched in iron chains of duty, guilt, and unspoken sorrow.
After a moment, he forced the words out.
“I trust you know your role.”
A pause.
“Be the sword your sister will one day need. Swear to me you’ll protect her. That is the only atonement you can offer.”
Aelira didn’t answer. She just nodded, wordlessly, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her training tunic.
Vaelen gestured toward the chamber walls. A soft, crackling hum filled the room—wards forming, locking the space down with layered spells.
“Now that Yuan is gone, I’ll cast protective seals. Servants will leave food for you at the gates. I’ll visit… occasionally.”
His voice faltered there—but only for a breath.
“Train well, Princess Aelira.”
And then he turned, walking out, robes trailing behind him like shadows.
The door closed with a slow, final click.
Aelira sat alone in the silence.
The flowers were gone. The warmth had vanished. Even the light filtering through the window seemed dimmer than before.
Her green eyes stared at the wall, vacant.
And somewhere inside her—something flickered out.
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