After the tense audience with the Emperor, Queen Selene and Prince Alon were escorted by Prince Axion through the winding corridors of the palace, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls. The air between them was heavy, thick with unspoken words, but their destination was clear—the chamber where Marina lay.

As they approached the door, they saw Caelan, the commander of the hydromancer knights, standing watchful and still. He guarded the entrance with the same unwavering determination that had always marked him, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of regret for the failure he felt in protecting the princess. His posture was formal, his back straight as an arrow, but when he saw the Queen and Prince Alon, he knelt, bowing his head deeply in respectful greeting.

"I greet our Royal Majesty the Queen and Royal Highness!" His voice was steady, but there was a quiet sorrow beneath the formality, an unspoken burden of guilt he could not shake.

As Caelan knelt before them, the silence that followed was thick and heavy. Queen Selene, her gaze lingering on the door where her daughter lay, hesitated before speaking, her voice soft but firm.

"Rise, Commander," she said, her tone carrying a subtle authority. "There is no need for such formalities now."

Prince Alon stepped forward, his expression darkening as he fixed Caelan with a menacing glare. He said nothing, but the intensity of his gaze was a silent accusation, a storm of anger and disappointment that spoke volumes.

Caelan felt the weight of that look, his heart sinking further under the scrutiny. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, each second stretching painfully as Alon's silent judgment lingered.

After a moment, Queen Selene broke the silence and gestured toward the door. "We must see her," she urged gently, her heart aching for her daughter.

Prince Alon's glare lingered on Caelan a moment longer before he turned sharply, stepping toward the chamber. The commander rose to his feet, stepping aside as the Queen and Crown Prince entered the chamber.

Inside, the room was dimly lit, the golden rays of the setting sun filtering softly through the sheer curtains, casting an almost ethereal glow on the sleeping princess.

Queen Selene moved forward with a grace borne of years of royalty, but her heart was heavy, weighed down by the sight before her. She reached out with trembling hands and took Marina's limp hand in her own, her eyes lingering on her daughter's still form. Her chest tightened as a sharp pang of sorrow ripped through her. Marina lay there, her face so calm, so serene—almost as though she were merely resting, asleep, in the comfort of her own dreams. But Selene knew better.

"My baby..." she whispered, her voice a fragile murmur that trembled in the air, thick with emotion. The worry gnawed at her heart, a relentless ache. She feared that awakening the prince—whose power was whispered to be the most destructive in the fire realm—had taken an immense toll on Marina's frail body.

The haunting thought lingered that she, too, might be affected by the force that had kept the prince dormant for five long years. At only twelve, her own abilities were still young and unsteady, yet they had already drawn the gaze of the realms. A chill ran through her at the realization that she might become a target before she had a chance to truly blossom.

How could she protect her daughter from a world that would see her as a threat?

Prince Alon stood quietly behind his mother, his face drawn tight with worry, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. The sight of his sister, so helpless, was more than he could bear. But it was the look in his eyes—the fiery concern, the frustration—that marked the true depth of his anguish.

Prince Axion, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, shifted his weight, his gaze flickering briefly toward the Crown Prince. After a moment, Alon spoke, his voice cutting through the stillness like a blade.

"Imperial Second Prince," he began, his tone low but laced with an undeniable intensity. "Can I have a word with you?"

Axion turned, meeting the Crown Prince's gaze with equal seriousness. "Of course."

Without another word, they stepped outside the chamber, leaving the Queen to her daughter's bedside. Once they were far enough away, Alon wasted no time, his anger and confusion spilling over.

"Will you explain what happened to my sister?" he demanded, his voice cold and hard. "How did she get involved in this mess?"

Axion's face darkened. His jaw clenched as he folded his arms over his chest. "My brother's powers were unstable again," he began, his voice steady but tinged with regret. "While he lay in slumber, his powers thrashing wildly, Marina sought to assist him. We didn't expect her to have... such formidable abilities. It even affected my brother in slumber."

He glanced down, as if the weight of his guilt bore down on his shoulders. "It's my fault," he muttered quietly. "I should have stopped her."

Alon's eyes blazed with fury as he stepped forward, his voice rising, bitter with accusation. "What good is your apology now? The damage has been done, Second Prince! You should have stopped her if you truly cared for her!" His words cut through the air, sharp and biting, while his hands trembled with barely restrained anger.

Axion's eyes narrowed, the frustration he had been holding back beginning to break through. "I said I'm sorry, Prince Alon," he replied, his voice low but laced with steel. "I didn't know it would come to this. But I swear to you, I will find out what caused this and how to wake her. I won't rest until I do."

The words fell flat in the heavy silence that followed. Alon's scoff broke through it like a thunderclap. "Find a way?" he repeated sarcastically, his tone dripping with disdain.

"You and your servants haven't even managed to awaken your own brother from his five years of slumber," Alon shot back, his voice heavy with scorn. "What hope is there that you can aid my sister?"

Axion's teeth ground together as frustration flared inside him. His hands balled into fists, but he held his composure, even as his patience frayed. He knew, without a doubt, that Alon's outburst wasn't born of malice—it was the raw, guttural pain of a brother who loved his sister deeply. And yet, the words cut him just the same.

"I know what I'm capable of," Axion bit out through clenched teeth, his voice low and controlled. "I care about Marina as much as you do, Prince Alon. And I will not stop until I find a way to help her."

"I pray you do," Alon said finally, his words heavy with doubt. "Because if this goes on any longer..." Axion met his gaze, the tension thickening between them. "We will hold your empire accountable for her misery."

Axion met his gaze without hesitation, determination burning in his chest. "I will. I swear it."

For a moment, the two princes stood in tense silence, the air crackling with unspoken emotions. Alon's anger continued to blaze, refusing to simmer down, the worry and fear still sharp in his eyes. He held Axion's gaze, unyielding, his voice rising with intensity. "This isn't over," he declared, the weight of his concern lingering like a storm.

As Alon turned away, striding toward the heavy door of the chamber, he caught sight of Caelan, the knight sworn to protect the princess—a man whose failure echoed painfully in the silence. Caelan's head was bowed, a posture of defeat that Alon chose to ignore. Alon pushed the door open, the creak of the wood a stark contrast to the tempest brewing within him, leaving behind the silence and the weight of unfulfilled duty.

As the sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the fire realm, Marina was carefully settled into a grand imperial carriage, its interior adorned with rich fabrics and plush cushions.

A serene expression lingered on her face, lost in the depths of slumber. The air was thick with anticipation as the hydromancer knights formed a protective barrier around the carriage, their blue cloaks flowing like water.

Beside them stood the pyromancer knights, their vibrant red uniforms pulsating with latent energy, a striking testament to the emperor's command for their protection as they made their way safely to the portal.

The emperor, his presence commanding yet warm, stepped forward to express his gratitude to the hydromancer princess, "I hope we can all talk again soon. I've more to ask of you, but I think this isn't the right time," he said, his voice tinged with sincerity.

Selene met his gaze with a smile that radiated warmth, her spirit unwavering. "Indeed, your excellency. When all is well, I hope we can discuss life as we used to," she replied, her eyes glimmering with shared memories.

Alderon stood tall in front of her, his presence a perfect blend of regal authority and approachable warmth. He nodded, his gaze steady and reassuring. "Very well. If you should desire anything or need our assistance, please do not hesitate to come to us. We are indebted to your daughter," he said, his voice deep and resonant, echoing with sincerity.

"I will, your Majesty," Selene affirmed, bowing slightly alongside Alon before they retreated into the carriage. Axion watched them with a determined glint in his eyes, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders.

As the emperor and Axion turned to head back to the castle, a figure emerged from the shadows—a maid of the imperial crown prince, her breathless urgency breaking the evening calm. "Your Majesty!" she called, rushing toward them, her heart racing.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Axion inquired, concern etching his features.

"The crown prince! He's—he's fully awakened!" she exclaimed, her words tumbling forth in a rush. The revelation hung in the air, their mouths gaping and eyes wide with disbelief. Without hesitation, they dashed to Avaxion's chamber, the halls of the castle echoing with their hurried footsteps.

Upon entering the room, they were met with a sight that took their breath away. Avaxion sat at the edge of his bed, gazing out the window at the fading light, his expression blank and emotionless.

His hair, now longer and cascading like dark silk, framed his porcelain-white face—a stark contrast to the shadows of the room. The boy they once knew had transformed, yet a fragile quality remained, as if the years had both shaped and thinned him.

His arms were slender and delicate, and there was an undeniable grace in his tall frame, towering over Axion. The years of slumber had imbued him with an ethereal quality; his skin glowed softly, a stark reminder of the life he had once led. Though he appeared fragile, a fierce psychic energy pulsed beneath the surface, hinting at the formidable power he had yet to fully reclaim.

Axion felt a mix of astonishment and apprehension at the sight of his older brother, who had finally emerged from the depths of his long sleep. 

Avaxion's gaze remained fixed on the outside world, void of any visible emotion, as if he were merely a spectator to a reality he no longer belonged to.

The silence in the room was heavy, filled with unspoken words and the weight of time that separated them. As the sun set beyond the horizon, shadows of uncertainty loomed, hinting at the challenges that lay ahead for all of them in this new chapter.

To be continued...