The morning sun spilled its golden light across the royal gardens, casting soft glows over blooming sunroses and dew-kissed grass. Kaelith stood at the edge of the courtyard, his hand resting on the hilt of his training blade. His red eyes lingered on a familiar figure among the flowers.
His mother.
Queen Amariel knelt beside a bed of ivory lilies, her hands moving gently through the petals like a prayer. Even surrounded by silence, her presence was radiant—like calm before a storm.
Kaelith took a breath and stepped forward. "Mother," he called softly.
Amariel turned, a warm smile gracing her lips. "You're up early, my star."
Kaelith hesitated, then sat beside her. The scent of the blossoms mingled with the crisp morning air. "The Trial of Suns... it's really happening, isn't it?"
Her smile faded slightly. "Yes. It is."
He looked down at his hands. "Do you think I'm ready for it?"
"You ask the wrong question, Kaelith," she said, brushing dirt from her fingers. "A blade does not ask if it is sharp. It simply cuts."
Kaelith blinked. "You always speak in riddles."
She said,"Because truth hides behind the words we're too afraid to say." She reached out and rested her palm against his chest. "The question is not if you're ready. It is what you will choose to fight for."
His gaze dropped. "I don't want to fight Vaeron."
She sighed, sadness flashing through her eyes. "Neither do I. But he's not the same boy who used to protect you from palace guards or share his bread during feasts."
"I still remember that version of him," Kaelith whispered. "The one who smiled."
"Then hold on to that memory," Amariel said gently. "And if the time comes... remind him."
For a moment, Kaelith was a child again, sitting beside his mother beneath the sun, not a prince, not a rival to the throne—just her son. The warmth of her touch steadied his heart.
Not just the crown... but the heart behind it. Her words echoed as he stood.
"I'll do my best," he promised.
"And that," she said, standing with him, "is what makes you worthy."
---
That evening...
The grand dining hall was silent, save for the distant crackle of torches. Kaelith walked across the marble floor, his footsteps echoing through the golden chamber. At the far end, his father sat alone at the head of the long table, cloaked in regal black and gold.
"Father," Kaelith said, bowing. "You called for me."
King Tharion did not raise his eyes from his goblet. "Four years. That's all that remains."
Kaelith said,"I know your obsession to this trial, because this is related with the kingdom's well and good."
"Are you prepared to carry this empire?" the king asked, voice like a weight pressing down.
Kaelith straightened. "I'll do what's required for the prosperity of the kingdom."
Finally, Tharion looked at him—sharp-eyed, unreadable. "This is not about doing. It is about being. A king must not only act. He must embody the very soul of his people."
"And if that means turning against my brother?" Kaelith asked.
Tharion stood, his presence filling the chamber like a storm cloud. "Especially then."
Kaelith didn't speak. He simply lowered his head.
"You hesitate," Tharion said, walking past him. "That hesitation may one day save you... or destroy you."
As the king's footsteps faded into the distance, Kaelith stood alone in the flickering firelight.
He didn't feel like a prince. Not anymore.
He felt like a weight had been placed on his back—one he could never remove.
But even so...
He would carry it.
--The Practice Ground--
The clashes of blades rang out in the royal training yard as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the marble tiles. Kaelith's breath came in sharp bursts, sweat trickling down his neck as his blade locked with Vaeron's.
With a swift twist, Vaeron disarmed him, the tip of his training sword resting against Kaelith's throat.
"You're faster than last week," Kaelith said, chest rising and falling.
Vaeron smirked, lowering his blade. "And you still hesitate."
Kaelith picked up his sword, frowning. "I don't see the point in hurting you for real."
"That," Vaeron said, stepping back with a flick of his wrist, "is exactly why you'll lose in the Trial. The world doesn't flinch when it cuts, Kael."
Kaelith's gaze dropped to his sword. "Maybe I don't want to win by becoming someone else."
Vaeron's eyes narrowed—quiet fire dancing within them. "Then don't stand in my way when I do."