We stride through the castle. Corpses lie everywhere. We reach the Audience Hall—the only room spared from the slaughter. The heavy tapestries hang in their places, and the polished wooden floor gleams in the dim light of the chandeliers.
"Rest, children," Mother says, her voice weary. "You have suffered enough today."
We take our seats. Beside me, Eamon trembles. He stares at his hands as if the demon's blood still clings to them. The sight of the battlefields is only just beginning to sink in. Understandable; he is only four years old. Aurora places a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay, Eamon?"
"Yes..." he whispers. His voice is quiet, yet strangely firm. "I understand now." He lifts his head, his eyes hardening. "They were weak. The guards. The servants. It is their own fault they were killed. He who cannot protect himself, dies. "I will never be so weak again," he whispers. But it sounds like an oath.
I study him. He had two paths before him: the path of the weak, broken by trauma, or the path of the strong, grown through experience. He has chosen the second. Good.
The door opens. Valerius enters the room, supported by Elara. She carries the baby in her arms. He is pale, and his new arm is still swaddled in bandages, but he stands tall.
"Are you alright, Valerius?" Maelis asks, her voice full of concern.
"Much better," he answers weakly, his gaze drifting to me. He approaches me slowly. "Thank you, Kael. You saved my life."
"Yeah... no problem," I reply neutrally. I didn't do it for you anyway, I think to myself.
Valerius scrutinizes me. "You aren't a healing mage, are you?"
"No," I say. "I use Special Magic."
"I figured as much," he murmurs. "So, did you conceive an ability that can heal? Or did you awaken it?" He furrows his brow. "No, that wouldn't make sense. When Special Mages awaken, they receive an ability that reflects who they are. Healing doesn't fit you." He leans in. "So, did you create it?"
Stop asking, I think, annoyed. "I have no idea how I did it," is all I say.
"I see," Valerius says, a smile playing on his lips. "Awakened after all, then." He rubs his chin. "I've been told you're a formidable fighter. That even grown warriors fear you. Your ability should be more specific. More powerful than just healing." He gives me a wink. "It's quite possible your gift is more than that. How about it? Want to train under my guidance? I could help you understand it."
"No thanks," I say immediately. "My father trains me." He just wants to dig for information. Forget it. I change the subject. "If Daemon is actually a King... does that make you the actual Lord here?"
Valerius freezes for a moment. "Yes. Sharp of you to notice. I am the rightful Lord of Morhenhall."
"Why did Father keep this from us?!" Aurora suddenly shouts, jumping up. "Or you, Mother! Why don't we live in Aeloria, in a castle where I'm a Princess?!"
"Simple." Daemon is standing in the doorway, General Malgor behind him. I didn't even hear him open the door. He steps into the room, his presence instantly filling the space. "So that you don't become fools."
"What do you mean by that, Father?" Aurora asks, confused.
Daemon crosses his arms. "When you possess too much power from birth... it makes you stupid. And greedy. It isn't always the case, but it is in most."
"That would have never happened to me!" Aurora protests.
"You can never know for sure," Daemon says darkly. He glances at Valerius. "Valerius and I weren't always just two brothers. There were once three of us."
"Uh..." Valerius interjects. "You forgot someone."
"SILENCE!" Daemon snaps at him. Right. He hasn't told us about Maelis, I think.
Daemon continues. "We had an older brother. He was the firstborn. Destined to be the next King of the humans. Because of that, he was always treated better. By Father, by Mother, by the servants. Every mistake was forgiven. Every wish was granted."
Daemon's face darkens. "It destroyed him. He learned that he was allowed to do anything. He violated the servants, indulged his darkest cravings, and whored his way through the entire city. The people noticed. They never said anything—no one dared. But you could see it in their eyes. They knew he wouldn't be a good King. That they would suffer under his rule."
He takes a deep breath. "On my 18th birthday, he forced me to go to a brothel with him. He told me, 'Your time has come to enjoy the virtues of a woman.'" Daemon grimaces with disgust. "For me, it was hell. So many people in one room, giving free rein to their lust. Repulsive. My brother was busy with some woman. I sat in the corner, waiting for it to finally be over."
"But suddenly... the woman drives a knife into his stomach. Then another stab. And another. He starts spitting blood. The people who were just celebrating stop instantly. They surround him. They form a wall so that I can no longer see him. I try to get through the crowd. I scream, 'Let me through!' but no one hears me."
Daemon's voice drops to a whisper. "Suddenly, I hear a voice right at my ear: 'To avoid the same fate as your brother... be a better human.'"
"I turn around, but no one is there. The crowd dissolves. I run to the bed." Daemon shakes his head. "He is gone. Even the blanket, which must have been soaked in blood, is gone. Freshly changed. The woman is gone too. The people just carry on as if nothing happened. I run out immediately. That's when I realize it was all planned. I run to the alley next to the brothel."
He swallows. "There, by a trash bin, blood is running down. I open it... and find my brother inside. Dead."
Silence fills the room. No one dares to breathe.
"I took him with me. Showed him to Father and Mother. Mother cried for days. Father screamed at me, out of his mind with rage." Daemon laughs bitterly. "I never understood it. I was right there! A successor! My brother was scum. Why did they mourn him so deeply?"
He looks at each of us in turn. "Now I know. He was simply loved too much. That, and his rank as the next King, made him into what he ultimately was: Waste! I hope you understand better now why I didn't give you a life like that."
Maelis and Valerius lower their heads sadly. "I understand," Aurora says quietly.
"But your wish has been granted, Aurora," Daemon says suddenly. His tone shifts, becoming businesslike. "We will set out for Aeloria in four years."
"Yes," Daemon answers. "What happened?" Maelis asks, worried. Daemon massages his temples. "I've only been away for 16 years, and already everything is going to hell." He sighs. "The Dwarf King is very ill. A curse is suspected. And it's starting to happen to the Goblin King as well. That means two Kings are currently unfit to rule. Since I'm not there either, only two remain: the Demon King and the Elf King. That's not enough. The balance is tipping."
He straightens up. "That's why I must head to Aeloria. To rule." "What? I thought not for four years?" Aurora asks, disappointed.
"Yes, you," Daemon says. "I am enough to rule for now. I will go ahead alone. In four years, I will return and come for you." "What?! Why?!" Aurora stammers.
"Were you not just listening to me?" Daemon asks sternly. "You are still too young, too impressionable. I don't want you to fall under the influence of the court and become what my brother was. That's why in four years. Even if that isn't really enough... but I can't exactly take Aurora and leave Kael and Eamon behind."
"When do you set out?" Maelis asks softly. "Tomorrow morning." He looks at her. "You're staying with the children, right?" "Yes, of course," she says. "Someone has to look after them." "Good. Valerius, you will be the Lord of Morhenhall once again." Valerius nods.
The next morning, we stand in the castle courtyard. Daemon comes out, followed by servants carrying his luggage. He goes straight to Maelis. He steps so close to her that their foreheads touch. He whispers something to her. "Take care of yourself," he whispers unusually affectionately. Mother's cheeks turn red. "Father, I don't recognize you like this at all!" Aurora blurts out.
A strange feeling of unease stirs within me. For some reason, the scene makes me angry. Daemon steps over to Aurora and strokes her head. "See to it that you get stronger. Promise me that." "I promise!" she shouts, standing on her tiptoes. He goes to Eamon. "Do you really have to go?" the little one asks sadly. "Don't worry," Daemon says, crouching down. "You won't even notice I'm gone." Eamon lifts his head. "I'll get stronger too. The strongest!" He begins to smile. "That's not a promise. It's how it will be."
Daemon smiles. A proud, genuine smile. Then he comes to me. He stops in front of me. He looks me deep in the eyes. "Don't disappoint me... my son."
I freeze. What? He called me 'son' for the first time. "I won't, Father," I say firmly.
He nods. Then he turns and steps into the black carriage. The whip cracks. The horses pull away. He drives off.
I watch the carriage until it disappears into the morning mist. "Oh man," Aurora says. "These four years better go by fast! I'm already dying to see Aeloria!" I say nothing. But inside—for the first time—I agree with her. Aeloria. The capital. Where the Five Kings rule. Where the politics play. Where the power lies. Four years. I will be ready.