​Liam sat on the edge of a wooden stool, his fingers nervously picking at a loose thread on his tunic. He looked toward the heavy oak doors every few seconds, terrified that the silent guards outside might have ears pressed against the wood.

​"Tell me again," Luca commanded. He was pacing the length of the room, his shadow stretching long and thin against the bookshelves. "Every word the elders said. Do not leave out a single detail, Liam. My life has been built on missing details."

​Liam swallowed hard, his throat feeling like it was filled with dry sand. "They call it Aethelgard. It means 'The Heart of the Storm' in the old tongue. They say it isn't just a beast of flesh and bone, but a creature of the earth itself. Eighteen years ago, the sky didn't just turn dark; it turned black as coal. The birds stopped singing. The cattle in the fields died of fright before a single flame was even breathed."

​Luca stopped pacing. He leaned against his mahogany desk, his eyes locked on his friend. "And the King? My father always tells the court he conquered the beast with his own 'Sun-Blessed' sword."

​Liam let out a small, bitter laugh that sounded more like a wheeze. "The elders laughed when I mentioned the King’s sword, My Lord. They said King Edward stayed behind the high walls of the inner citadel. He didn't lead the charge. He watched from the highest tower, shivering in his silk robes. It was the High Mages and the Dark Prophet who did the work. They used chains made of cold-iron and blood-magic. They dragged the beast into the Great Peak, and they didn't just lock a door, they folded the earth over it."

​Luca’s mind raced. He thought about the maps he had studied in secret. The Great Peak was a jagged tooth of rock that loomed over the city of Byblos. It was forbidden territory. No one was allowed to climb its slopes, and the King’s "Peak Guard" patrolled the base with orders to kill on sight.

​"If the King is so afraid of it," Luca mused, his voice dropping to a whisper, "why keep it so close? Why not kill it?"

​"Because you cannot kill the earth, Your Highness," Liam replied, his voice trembling. "The elders say the dragon is tied to the life of the kingdom. If the dragon dies, the land withers. So the King keeps it in a cage, like a heart in a ribcage. But lately... They say the mountain is breathing again. Smoke has been seen rising from the vents near the summit. The ground has been shaking in the middle of the night."

​Luca walked back to the window. In the distance, the silhouette of the mountain stood against the stars, a dark giant waiting to wake up. He felt a strange, magnetic pull in his chest, a sensation he couldn't explain. It was as if a string tied to his own heart led straight into the dark centre of that mountain.

​"We cannot stay here, Liam," Luca said, his voice hardening. "If the mountain is waking up, the King will be desperate. He will look for someone to blame, or a sacrifice to offer. I have lived eighteen years as his 'shame.' I will not spend the rest of my life as his prisoner while the world burns outside."

​"But the escape..." Liam stood up, his knees shaking. "The gates are guarded by the Sun-Guard. They know your face, even if they pretend they don't. And the city of Byblos is a hive of spies. We won't make it a mile."

​Luca turned, a cold, calculated light in his eyes. He reached into a hidden drawer in his desk and pulled out a small leather pouch. It clinked with the sound of gold, coins he had slowly pilfered from the royal treasury over three years.

​"We won't go as ourselves," Luca said. "We will go as the very thing they trust most. We will go as soldiers."

​The plan began to take shape in the silence of the room. Luca described the western storehouse, a place where the armour was kept for the infantry. He knew the patrol routes; he had memorized them by watching the guards from his window for a decade. He knew that at the second bell, there was a four-minute window where the courtyard was empty.

​Liam looked at his Prince, and for the first time, he saw a man instead of a boy. The soft edges of Luca’s face had vanished, replaced by the sharp, dangerous lines of a leader.

​"You're serious," Liam whispered. "You're truly going to leave everything behind? The Manor? The title? The comfort?"

​"What comfort, Liam?" Luca asked, spreading his arms wide to indicate the beautiful, empty room. "Everything in this room belongs to a man who hates me. Every meal I eat is a reminder that I am a guest in a house that wishes I were dead. I would rather be a beggar in the dust of Byblos than a Prince in a tomb."

​Luca walked over to Liam and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was the only physical contact he had felt in months, and it was firm and grounding. "I am asking you to risk your life. If we are caught, the King will not show mercy to a servant. He will make an example of you. If you want to stay, I will not blame you. I will give you this gold, and you can find a life elsewhere."

​Liam looked at Luca’s hand, then up at his eyes. Tears welled in the servant's eyes, but he wiped them away with a rough sleeve. "My life began the day you shared your bread with me when I was a starving boy in the kitchens, Your Highness. I have no life without you. If we go to the mountain, we go together."

​Luca nodded, a rare moment of genuine emotion softening his features. "Then pack only what is essential. No jewels. No silks. Only water, a knife, and courage. We move when the moon hits the west tower."

​As Liam slipped out of the room to prepare, Luca remained by the window. He touched the glass, feeling the vibration of the earth. Was it his imagination, or did the floor beneath his feet tremble?

​He looked at the mountain one last time. He didn't know why, but he felt as though he wasn't going to the Great Peak to find a monster. He was going there to find a mother he had never known, and a power he had only felt in his dreams.

​The Ghost Prince was about to haunt the world.