The early morning sun cast long shadows across the palace, turning Rithaleon's stone walls into dark silhouettes beneath a sky just beginning to blush. Mist drifted like veils over towers and courtyards, the city below barely stirring.
Today, Prince Zyren would leave.
He stood at his chamber window, palms resting on the cool stone. Gardens and rooftops lay bathed in gold. The moonstone pendant resting against his chest pulsed softly, its rhythm echoing the churn of thoughts in his head.
He hadn't really slept.
The Order of the Black Sun was no longer just a myth. It was real. It had struck. And it would strike again.
Zyren's reflection wavered in the glass. Pale from lack of sleep. Eyes bruised with exhaustion. He barely recognized the boy looking back at him.
"Am I really ready for this?"
A soft knock drew him away from the window.
"Your Highness," came Lily's calm voice. "It's time to prepare."
He didn't answer right away. He took one last look at his home—at the rooftops catching light, the distant river glinting silver, the soft hum of a world unaware.
Then he turned.
Lily stood just inside the door, a cloak folded neatly in her arms. Deep green with silver embroidery—the crescent-hawk of House Rithaleon.
"You'll want this for the road," she said.
He stepped forward. She placed the cloak around his shoulders. It was heavier than it looked. Weighted. Like everything else lately.
"You don't have to go," Lily said, voice low. "Just say it. I'll speak to the king myself."
Zyren's smile was thin. "You know he won't hear it."
"Then you say it," she pressed. "Admit you're afraid."
"It's not the road I fear." he replied. "It's being too late."
He brushed his fingers along a carved chair.
"This isn't just about study. The Academy won't stop the Order. But maybe I'll find something. Something that helps. I have to."
Lily studied him, her expression unreadable.
"You've grown so much, Zyren. So quickly. But don't lose yourself trying to be what the kingdom needs. You are not your crown. You are not your title. You are you—and that's enough."
For a moment, he wanted to believe her.
But he'd seen too much to go back to who he was.
"I can't afford to be enough," he said. "Not now."
---
A knock.
Corwin entered, posture straight but eyes softer than usual. Lily's son. Zyren's servant. His closest friend. Like a brother.
"Your Highness," he said with a bow. "The convoy is ready."
There was a weight in his voice Zyren rarely heard.
"Thank you," Zyren said. "I'll be down shortly."
Corwin hesitated. Then stepped forward.
"If I may…" He paused. "We believe in you. Not just us—servants, guards."
Corwin looked at Lily for a brief moment, his eyes softening, before turning back to Zyren.
"You've always seen more than the rest of us. We believe in you. The city believes in you. And that's not just because of your title."
Zyren's throat tightened.
"I'll try not to let anyone down."
"You won't," Corwin said. "You haven't yet."
He turned and left.
—
Corwin walked briskly down the stone corridor, but his pace slowed as he neared the eastern stair. He found Lily in the small antechamber, folding linens with more force than necessary.
She didn't look up when he entered.
"You should have told me sooner," she said.
"I wasn't hiding it," Corwin replied. "Just… waiting for the right moment."
Her hands stilled. "There's never a right moment to tell your mother you're riding into danger."
He stepped closer, voice quiet. "He needs someone he can trust. Someone who knows what he's walking into."
"You think I don't know that?" she said, eyes finally meeting his. "I see it in him. I've seen it since he was a boy. But seeing him go is one kind of pain. Watching you ride with him is another."
Corwin's jaw tightened. "He's my brother. I'll follow him."
Lily's voice softened. "And what happens if 'anywhere' is the end of the road?"
A long silence stretched.
"I can't protect you from what's coming, Corwin," she said, stepping forward. "But I can ask one thing."
"Anything."
"Don't lose yourself to loyalty. You're not just his shadow. You're my son. You have your own light."
Corwin took a breath, his chest tight. "I'll keep him safe. I swear it."
Lily reached up and straightened his collar with trembling hands. "Then may the stars keep you both."
She pressed a small satchel into his hand—simple leather, worn at the edges.
"For the road. Dried fruit, flint... and the good salve I hid from the quartermaster," she said with a half-smile. Then, her fingers brushed over a small, worn medallion she tucked into the pouch. "Take this, too. For luck."
Corwin gave a faint smile. "That's practically a royal treasure."
She pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly. "Just come home."
"I will," he said.
And this time, he hoped it was true.
—
The courtyard buzzed with movement. Guards stood in formation. Courtiers whispered behind composed masks. Horses pawed the ground.
King Thalen waited at the center.
He wore simple armor and a dark cloak. No crown. Just a silver clasp at his collar. A father.
Zyren approached.
They stood silently. A pause stretched between them.
"Are you ready?" Thalen asked at last.
"I don't know," Zyren admitted.
"But you're going anyway," Thalen said.
Zyren nodded.
A hint of pride flickered behind the Thalen's stern gaze.
"Good. Courage isn't absence of fear. It's walking forward despite it."
Zyren hesitated.
"What if I'm not strong enough? What if I'm wrong?"
Thalen looked off.
"Your mother asked the same. She doubted herself. But she led because she never stopped searching. And never gave up."
Zyren swallowed hard. "Do you think I can be like her?"
Thalen didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached out and rested a firm hand on his Zyren's shoulder.
"I think you'll be something more. Something different. And that scares me, Zyren. Because I know you'll walk paths I can't protect you from."
The king's voice softened. "But I will never stop believing in you."
Zyren nodded slowly. The moonstone beat against his chest.
"I'll find the truth, Mother."
The moment settled inside him like armor.
Lira ran to him, her small hands clutching a pouch, tears already brimming.
"Don't go, Zyren. What if the monsters find you?"
He knelt, brushing a curl from her face.
"Then I'll chase them off, like the stories say. I'll be back before you know it."
Lira sniffled, handing him the pouch. "Take this—it'll protect you."
Inside was a small carved stone. Zyren held it tightly.
"I'll keep it with me," he said.
Lira hugged him, trembling.
"Please come back safe."
Zyren kissed her forehead, voice breaking.
"I will."
As Lily led her away, her sobs echoed.
Zyren mounted his horse. The weight of the stone and his promise hung heavy.
He looked back at Thalen.
"Goodbye, Father."
"Not goodbye," Thalen said. "Just forward."
---
The gates of Rithaleon opened.
The convoy rode out.
And Zyren did not look back.
The city faded behind him—its towers, memories, ghosts.
The wind carried the scent of pine and mountain mist. The moonstone throbbed like a second heartbeat. With every step forward, the world grew quieter.
But inside, something stirred.
Resolve.
The journey had begun.
And the shadows were moving.
---
Far to the east, nestled among cliffs and ruins, the Academy of the Seven Pillars stood like a crown of stone.
Founded by the First Mage, it trained seers, warriors, and scholars. None entered unmarked. None left unchanged.
Inside a vaulted hall lit by flickering lanterns, instructors circled a rune-carved table. A blue flame flickered in its center—steady, unnatural.
"He's on his way," murmured one, a woman with silver tattoos coiling up her neck. "The Prince."
A figure stepped from the shadows, face hidden beneath a hood stitched with starlight.
"I felt the shift when he touched the Archive," the he said. "The moonstone has awakened. Just as the stars foretold."
A voice, low and amused, broke the silence.
"So the prodigal heir comes to play war games. I wonder if he's as clever as the legends say."
On a high balcony, a young man leaned against a pillar. Eyes like obsidian. A scar curling down his cheek.
Kael.
Once heir to a fallen house. Now the Academy's sharpest blade—and its most volatile.
"He's back," Kael muttered. "Touched by stars or not—I don't care."
The flame in the center flared, as if in warning.
The hooded figure's voice was calm.
"Then be careful, Kael. Power does not ask permission. It only demands a price."
He turned, cloak trailing. "Let's see what he's really made of."
Thunder rumbled beyond the cliffs.
The wind curled through the high towers of the Academy.
And in its breath, a name stirred like a prophecy:
Zyren.
---
**End of Chapter Five**