The kneeling man, tied with rough ropes, trembled before the imperial throne.
"I swear... it was the first time... my son was starving..." he stammered, trying to sound remorseful.
The sound of the emperor's fingers tapping against the throne's armrest echoed through the hall. The black stone seemed to absorb the tension.
"You said it was the first time..." Eryan Kaelveth's voice was cold, sharp as a blade. "But according to the records, you have no son. In fact, you've been working as a spy for the Aurora for two years."
The man turned pale. His excuses shattered like glass. Realizing there was no way out, he let out a bitter, nervous laugh.
"Yes, I was a spy!" he screamed, eyes wide. "And even knowing that, you expose me now?! Ha—" He laughed, more and more unhinged. "This empire will fall... and you... you won't be able to stop it, tyrant!"
"Emperor, if I may..." began Maltherion, stepping forward, but he was interrupted.
"Uncle," Eryan shot him a cutting look, "every time a spy shows up, you try to keep him alive. You know I don't operate that way."
He sighed with impatience and turned back to the traitor.
"Very well. We'll make an example of him. We're living in relative peace, and I won't allow anything to disturb that." He waved his hand vaguely. "Cut off his head and limbs. Hang the remains in Drayven."
Without waiting for a response, he stood and walked out of the hall, ignoring the hysterical screams that began to echo behind him.
In the corridor, Eryan took a deep breath, fighting his own exhaustion, not noticing that Maltherion was following him.
"Why did you issue that order within my jurisdiction?" his uncle asked, his voice low and tense.
The emperor shot him a distrustful look.
"You should have done something before I had to intervene. Maybe that man would still be alive." His tone was sharp as a whip.
Maltherion was silent for a few seconds. He considered whether it was worth arguing but ultimately just bowed his head.
"You are right... it was my negligence." He lowered himself in reverence and walked away.
Eryan continued toward his private garden. He sat on the dark stone bench near the old rosebush and looked up at the eternally gray sky. For a moment, his mind wandered to the cursed prophecy created by the Order of Aurora:
"A savior from another world will come and overthrow the tyranny."
He laughed — dry and cynical.
"Poor fools..." he muttered, fingers unconsciously tracing the Seal Ring — a gesture he always did when things slipped out of control.
No one would ever understand the sacrifices he had to make. Uniting the continents of Seyrath, Drakhelm, and Noctavel had cost more than any soul could bear. The Ashen War left deep scars — visible and invisible.
As he stood, ready to rest, he saw in the distance an officer running toward him — breathless, pale.
"Sire! It's urgent! An... an incident in the Tower of the Ancients... we don't know how to handle it!" the young man blurted out.
"Frédéric..." Eryan crossed his arms, impatient. "What could possibly be so grave as to pull me from my chambers?"
Even hearing the emperor's glacial tone, Frédéric didn't back down. He had known this man for years.
"Sire... it's better if you see it for yourself."
They arrived quickly at the Tower. A commotion of alchemists and mages surrounded something at the center, murmuring and pointing, visibly nervous.
"Make way! The emperor is here!" Frédéric ordered, pushing people aside.
Eryan stepped closer and, for a moment, had to process what he was seeing.
In the middle of the circle, curled up on the floor like a little ball, was... a strange creature. A boy. Young — maybe not even twenty. He wore bizarre clothes — thick, loose fabric, a hoodie with the hood slipped down his shoulders.
White hair. As white as freshly polished silver. His cheeks were round and flushed. The boy looked like... a ghost.
His fingers tightened around the Seal Ring. This... this was definitely not part of the plan.
"He's awake..." Eryan thought, clenching his jaw.
"Who is he?" he asked, glancing sideways at Frédéric. "And why is he still breathing? Someone get me a sword. Impale him."
Silence fell like a blade. But before anyone could even move, the boy sprang to his feet, standing upright with a smile — a smile completely out of place.
"Eyyyy... can someone please explain what the hell is going on here?!" he asked, scrunching his nose, clearly more annoyed than scared.
Eryan froze. No... he did not. Everyone froze. Because instead of fear, that brat looked... irritated. Annoyed and, somehow... adorable.
"Like... like a hamster... like the one I had as a child," Eryan thought — and immediately, a stab of pain shot through his chest, followed by a sharp headache.
His fingers twisted the ring, squeezing it so tight it nearly broke his own skin.
"Frédéric... what... is... this?" His voice faltered — something that hadn't happened in years.
Frédéric cleared his throat, sweating bullets.
"Sire... I... I was studying interdimensional portals as you ordered and... well... I asked for help from a Guild weaver and... a novice — Gustav — managed to complete a formula I hadn't even fully understood and... and then... a huge portal opened and... he—" he pointed at the boy, "—he just fell through!"
Silence. Deafening.
The boy, however, crossed his arms, scowling.
"Great. Thrown in here. Perfect. And now you wanna kill me?" He looked straight at Eryan, raising his chin. "Seriously, is this some kind of prank?! Send me back, you lunatics!"
The soldiers took so long to process the audacity that they only reacted seconds later, pushing him to the ground, pinning him down.
Eryan was... stunned. Not by the shouting. Not by the defiance. But because, for years — years — no one had dared look him in the eyes. Let alone stare him down like that.
And then... he laughed.
A dry, broken, unexpected laugh. The people around exchanged nervous glances, unsure how to react.
The boy, squished to the ground, spat the blood pooling in his mouth and muttered:
"Tsk... idiots..."
"I've changed my mind." The emperor's voice sounded different. Almost... amused. "Give him a bath. Take him to the chambers next to mine. Put guards at the door. Our... guest should be treated with the respect he deserves, considering he arrived here thanks to the incompetence of our alchemists."
He turned and left without looking back. His shoulders trembled... not with anger.
"That... little thing... looked me in the eyes... hahaha... the audacity."
For the first time in years, Eryan Kaelveth allowed himself to truly laugh.