Solo journey?!

I can't do this.

This is just... overwhelming.

Agni slumped forward in his saddle, his entire body screaming in protest. His thighs ached. His back was a twisted knot of agony. His hands had gone numb from gripping the reins for hours on end.

And the sun.

Gods, the sun.

It had beaten down on him like a hammer all day—harsh, relentless, and absolutely merciless. Sweat had soaked through his traveling clothes hours ago. His hair was plastered to his forehead. His skin felt like it had been slow-roasted over an open flame.

This is torture.

This is actual, literal torture.

My father's words motivated me so much that I actually got ready to leave for Aethermoor Academy...

The night had finally come, bringing blessed relief from the heat. The temperature had dropped to something almost pleasant. A cool breeze whispered across the endless fields, carrying the scent of grass and distant rain.

But even that wasn't enough.

What Agni wanted—what he needed—was a proper bath. Hot water. Soap. Maybe some of those scented oils the palace maids used to prepare. And after that? A bed. A real bed, with soft pillows and silk sheets and absolutely no horses involved.

Just proper sleep for one day.

Not even eight hours!

I would literally kill for that right now.

He groaned, shifting his weight in the saddle for the hundredth time.

Aethermoor Academy.

Located in some valley... all the way to the east...

A week-long ride.

Great.

Just great.

The thoughts swirled through his exhausted mind like leaves caught in a storm. Everything hurt. Everything was terrible. And the worst part? He'd only been traveling for one day.

Six more to go.

Six. More. Days.

"I should just give up," Agni muttered, his voice cracking from thirst and exhaustion. "This thing is breaking my spine."

He patted the horse's neck weakly.

"Right, Big B?"

The horse came to an abrupt halt.

Not because it was tired—though it probably was. No, the sudden stop seemed more like... offense.

Ah.

Yeah, that's fair.

"Sorry, Big B," Agni said, scratching behind the horse's ear apologetically. "But your real name—Death Walker of the Crimson Prince—is not something I want to say every time I need to talk to you."

The horse snorted.

"It's too long! And way too fancy! You're a horse, not a legendary demon lord!"

Big B shook his entire body in what could only be described as equine indignation, nearly throwing Agni off the saddle.

"Hey! Careful, big guy!"

Agni grabbed the reins tighter, his heart pounding from the near-fall.

"Look," he said,"Just for this journey, agree to the nickname. And in return... I'll arrange proper compensation for you when we get back."

Big B's ears twitched.

"Tell me what you want! Better food? A nicer stable? Mare introductions? I can make it happen!"

The horse was silent for a long moment.

Then, slowly, it began walking again.

Is that... acceptance?

I'll take it.

Big B's movements were slow now—almost contemplative. Like the stallion was genuinely considering his options and calculating the best deal.

"Let's just... skip this whole thing," I muttered, patting his neck. 

If I stay lost long enough, someone will come looking for me. The palace will send search parties. I'll be "rescued" and brought back home, and the whole Academy thing will be delayed or canceled.

Perfect plan.

Except...

My father will chew me alive.

A shudder ran down his spine that had nothing to do with the night chill.

He said learning to face life-and-death situations would help me grow.

Getting murdered by my own father definitely counts as a life-and-death situation, right?

...Right?

We'd stopped at a riverbank where the water ran clear and cool. While Big B drank his fill, I dismounted and immediately regretted it when my legs nearly gave out. Everything hurt in ways I didn't know were possible.

Left alone, Agni surveyed his surroundings.

Grass. Lots of grass. Stretching in every direction under the endless night sky.

The river. Slow and peaceful.

Agni lay down on the grass, letting his aching body sink into the earth. It wasn't comfortable—the ground was uneven, and something that might have been a rock was digging into his shoulder blade—but it was better than the saddle.

Not a fancy bed, he thought, staring up at the stars. But it'll do.

The breeze picked up, cool and refreshing against his overheated skin.

For a moment—just a moment—Agni felt something close to peace.

The quiet of the night pressed in around him, and with nothing else to distract him, Agni's thoughts drifted back to the one subject he'd been trying to avoid.

Lyralei Valen.

Mana Circuit Level 5.

Special Element: Lightning.

In the world of magic, a person's Mana Circuit Level determined how much magical energy they could channel and control. Most people—the vast majority of the population—never made it past Level 2. Breaking through to Level 3 required years of intense training. Level 4 was the domain of elite mages and knight-commanders.

Level 5?

That was halfway to the theoretical maximum of Level 9—

And she's only eighteen.

What kind of monster is she?

Agni thought about himself.

I'm on Level 2.

Same as most people who never bother to train.

Same as servants and farmers and people who have never held a sword in their lives.

He wasn't particularly talented as a mage. His body wasn't fit to be a martial artist or a swordsman. Heck, he was a whole foot shorter than the standard requirement for knight training—even if he'd had the talent for it.

If anything... I wouldn't mind being a gardener.

Just... tending plants. Watching things grow. No politics. No expectations. No marriage arrangements.

The Sun Empire has countless faces dying to be acknowledged by my father.

Why does it have to be me?

The answer came immediately, bitter and unavoidable.

Because I'm the prince.

Because I'm supposed to be the symbol.

Because my father decided it, and nobody argues with the King.

...Lyralei could do it.

The thought surfaced unbidden.

Yeah. Someone like her looks the part. So beautiful. So strong. So capable.

She could handle the burden of ruling. She could manage the politics and the wars and the endless responsibilities.

All I have to do is marry her... and then step aside.

Let her do the heavy lifting.

Perfect plan.

Except...

What if she throws me out?

Agni frowned at the stars.

That's definitely something her personality would do.

Even if we're married... even if I'm technically the crown prince... someone like her wouldn't tolerate deadweight.

Heck, she looks like she doesn't tolerate annoyance from her own father

What chance do I have?

The questions kept coming, each one more uncomfortable than the last.

Why did she even agree to marry me?

Did she have a choice?

Does she even know about the arrangement yet?

Did she know before I did?

Have I ever actually seen her face-to-face?

No. He hadn't. Everything he knew about Lyralei Valen came from that single photograph—black hair, black eyes, the aura of someone who craved danger.

Is being Queen such a big deal that she'd do anything for it?

Or is this some kind of knight's sacrifice—duty before personal happiness?

What kind of person ARE you, Lyralei?

The Valen family was known throughout all Nine Realms as the knightliest of knights. Honor. Duty. Service. Those were the pillars their house was built upon.

These old people probably arranged everything without asking either of us.

Politics. Alliances. The continuation of bloodlines.

His hand drifted toward his saddlebag, where the velvet-wrapped gift from Eldric still sat untouched.

The box was light.

Too light to be jewelry. Too light to be anything valuable.

What could possibly be inside?

And more importantly—will Lyralei even care?

I wouldn't be amused if someone gave me a random gift from my own father. That's just... weird.

Agni groaned, pressing his palms against his eyes.

I'm thinking too much.

Way too much.

I should just... meet her in person. Figure things out from there.

But that's so much work...

And I'm not going anywhere tonight.

So...

I'll think about it tomorrow.

A deep yawn forced its way out of his throat, stretching his jaw almost painfully.

Everything can wait until—

Ow.

A sharp pinch on his arm.

Agni slapped at it instinctively, and his palm came away smeared with blood.

Mosquito.

Then another pinch. And another. And another.

He sat up, suddenly alert, and his eyes widened in horror.

Oh no.

Oh no no no no—

A swarm of them. Dozens—maybe hundreds—of tiny, buzzing demons descending on him from all directions. The riverbank, which had seemed so peaceful moments ago, had apparently been hiding an entire civilization of bloodsucking nightmares.

THE RIVERBANK SUCKS!

THE RIVERBANK LITERALLY SUCKS!

IN EVERY POSSIBLE MEANING OF THAT WORD!

Agni scrambled to his feet, swatting frantically at the air. But they were everywhere—landing on his arms, his neck, his face, biting and biting and biting—

ENOUGH!

Something snapped inside him.

Without thinking, Agni brought his hands together in a sharp clap.

"Flame Burst!"

Fire exploded outward from his palms in a perfect sphere, engulfing the swarm in an instant. The mosquitoes didn't even have time to react—one moment they were there, the next they were ash, incinerated by the flash of magical flame.

Hah!

Take THAT!

Agni stood in the center of the scorched circle, breathing hard, a manic grin spreading across his face.

"That's what you get for disturbing my sleep, you little—"

The grin faded.

Oh gods.

That SMELL.

The stench of burned mosquitoes hit him like a physical force—acrid, nauseating, utterly vile. It was somehow worse than the Potato of Despair. Worse than anything he'd ever smelled in his life.

I'm going to be sick.

He stumbled away from the scorched grass, scratching at the welts already forming on his arms and neck.

Big B was already moving, having apparently reached the same conclusion. The horse trotted over and lowered itself slightly, making it easier for Agni to mount.


Agni pulled himself into the saddle with renewed urgency.

"Let's go find some shelter! If I can't sleep in the open, I need to find somewhere with walls! And ceilings! And a distinct lack of mosquitoes!"

Big B needed no further encouragement. The stallion broke into a canter, carrying them away from the riverbank and its cursed inhabitants.

Behind them, the flames from Agni's spell slowly died down, leaving only smoldering grass and the faint glow of embers.

And, unseen in the darkness, something else.

A figure.

Cloaked in shadow, it stepped into the scorched circle without hesitation. Its boots crushed the charred remains of grass and insects alike.

It stood there for a long moment, watching the direction the prince had fled.

Steel glinted briefly under the moonlight—a blade, half-drawn from its sheath—before disappearing back beneath the cloak.


End of Part 1.