In the heart of the royal palace, where pristine marble walls embraced the daylight seeping through vast windows, the dining table stretched across a hall lit by golden torches. Their light danced on the walls, reflecting royal engravings in a forgotten tongue. Eight luxurious chairs surrounded the table three on each side, and two at either end. On one of those ends sat King Karis Krios, his heavy skull resting in his palm, staring into a void filled with more than mere thought.
Karis bore the hallmarks of House Krios: hair black as an abyss, blazing yellow eyes, and bronze skin that cloaked a body carved by war. These features were not only the family's pride but an unbreakable shield of authority.
Opposite him sat Queen Lena, a woman in her mid-thirties, with hair as white as mountain snow and eyes as green as a hidden forest. Her body had been sculpted with royal elegance, and time had etched upon it the details of mature femininity.
To her left sat their three children, arranged from oldest to youngest. First was Crown Prince Max Krios, a seventeen-year-old embodiment of the Krios legacy. Beside him sat his sister, Elena, sixteen, who mirrored her mother's features: white hair, sun-hued eyes, and a strong frame honed by strict training since childhood. Next to her sat the youngest, Alex Krios, barely sixteen, with hair as dark as midnight and eyes that shimmered with life—his hardened build bore the mark of rigid royal upbringing.
With steady steps, Daniel entered the hall. He walked toward his usual seat the lone chair across from the royal family, placed there deliberately, as if to remind him always that he was not of the king's blood. Behind him moved his maid, Kara, silent and close, like a shadow guarding a buried secret.
Daniel sat down, nodding with a faint smile an impeccably measured evening greeting. The family returned the gesture in formal royal fashion a protocol never broken. The head butler entered, followed by a procession of maids carrying various dishes, which they placed neatly along the table.
Once the servants had left, a solemn silence settled in. The heavy kind the kind that comes before storms in the palaces of kings.
The king reached out and seized a roasted lamb shank, tearing into it with his teeth in a fierce bite a regal declaration that the meal had begun. Only then did the queen and her children, along with Daniel, begin to eat. The silence remained unbroken; no one was permitted to speak before the meal was done. A strict rule, like all things in this kingdom.
The king finished first. He looked around the table, and when he saw that all had eaten their fill, he spoke his voice unwavering, layered with an authority that allowed no dissent:
"Daniel, you must take care of your frail body. Your eighteenth birthday nears, and with it, the Trial of Awakening. You must be prepared. Look at Max… his physique is suited to face destiny."
To a stranger, it may have sounded like concern. But those who knew Karis's gaze understood better: his words concealed something else. His eyes told the truth a faint hatred shimmering in the shadows.
Daniel knew. He understood clearly that survival was imperative not just to live, but to endure this deadly game. He knew a hidden hand would interfere. The coming trial was no mere rite of passage; it was the crossroads between immortality… and death.
Max smirked, his chest swelling with pride at his father's words. Then he cast Daniel a look of open challenge, his features twisted with a blind hatred. Daniel read between the lines this wasn't rivalry. It was an invitation to kill.
The conditions for surviving the Awakening were clear:
1. Build the body to its peak, to withstand the backlash of the power.
2. Maintain virginity until the moment of awakening otherwise, the odds of survival would drop drastically.
3. The awakening began at twelve midnight. After it ends, protection from assassination must be secured.
Daniel met Max's blazing eyes and responded with a cold smile. He understood exactly what was being plotted. This wasn't the first attempt Max had made to sabotage his trial. But each time, the plan had failed thanks to the black tattoo on his back… and thanks to Kara, the shadowed eye that guarded him.
Daniel spoke with mocking ease, as though the matter were beneath him:
"As you command, Father. I shall follow Max's example… he truly is a model to emulate."
His sarcasm was unmistakable he didn't try to hide it. He looked the king in the eye, challenging him, his words dripping with defiance. Shock swept across the faces around the table. Even Queen Lena was disturbed by his tone. There was no respect in his voice he had deliberately shattered the king's sanctity. Everyone knew that Daniel saw no one as a role model not even the king himself.
Max clenched his teeth but held his tongue. Elena, sitting beside him, placed a gentle hand on his an unspoken message: not now. Be still. Let actions speak later.
Max endured the insult, but the hatred within him boiled, awaiting its moment to erupt.
Lena looked at Daniel with a pained smile, heavy with disappointment. She knew a day would come when she would have to choose between her adopted son… and her husband and children. And that day was drawing near.
Daniel left the hall, Kara's shadow trailing silently behind him. He wasn't headed to his chamber but to the library.
The library his true sanctuary. Its walls adorned with inscriptions in a language understood only by the rare few. Within it lay the knowledge that could topple kingdoms: mechanics, agriculture, martial arts, anatomy, toxicology, and medicine.
At the library entrance, he gave a curt command:
"Do not let anyone disturb me."
Kara nodded, her silence a vow of protection. Daniel stepped inside, eyes scanning the walls before heading to the rows of shelves. He searched through the clay tablets until he found a recent inscription written in a secret language of his own invention, known only to him and his spies.
He read the words, and his eyes widened. In the kingdom of Ashur, capital Ashura, a coup had taken place. The king had died under mysterious circumstances, and his son had taken the throne a man who despised peace. It was a sign that calm would not last. War was coming, and time would not remain as it was.
Time passed, and the sun sank into the darkness of night. As usual, Daniel skipped the family dinner. When he emerged from the library an hour later, Kara awaited him statuesque, a silent guardian.
Their eyes met, and he spoke firmly:
"Kara, starting tomorrow, we begin again. Wake me at dawn. It's time to get serious."
Kara was surprised, but not shocked. She knew that every step he took carried weight and every decision had a reason… one known only to him.
She answered in a voice of pure obedience:
"As you command, my lord."
She walked behind him toward his bedroom, her mind burdened with silent thoughts. She knew the time was near the time when Daniel would awaken from his long slumber. The time when there would be no escape… from the truth.