Him 1

The next morning, the palace was in chaos. Guards were everywhere, rushing up and down the halls, their armor clinking and boots echoing against the polished stone floors. Everyone looked tense, their eyes sharp as they checked every corner and questioned anyone who seemed out of place.

The king had ordered the palace to be locked down after hearing about the intruders. No one was getting in or out without being thoroughly searched. Servants whispered nervously among themselves, their usual calm replaced with jittery movements as they carried out their duties.

In the throne room, Lior stood before the king. His small frame seemed even smaller under the intense gaze of his father and the high-ranking officials who surrounded him. Despite their concerned expressions, Lior looked calm—confused, but calm.

"Tell me what happened," the king said, his deep voice commanding but not unkind. "From the beginning, son."

Lior shifted uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "I… I don't really know," he admitted softly. "One minute, I was sleeping in my bed, and the next… the servants were waking me up on the rooftop window to my room."

The room fell silent, everyone waiting for him to say more. But Lior just shook his head. "That's all I remember. I didn't see anything or anyone."

The king leaned back in his throne, his brow furrowing as he processed the boy's words. "You're sure? Nothing unusual before you fell asleep? No strange sounds or feelings?"

Lior shook his head again. "No, Father. Everything was normal… until it wasn't."

A low murmur rippled through the officials. The head of the palace guard stepped forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Your Majesty, the fact that the intruders could enter undetected and escape without a trace is concerning. We'll need to double the patrols and review our defenses immediately."

The king nodded, his expression grim. "Do whatever is necessary. My son's safety is not up for debate."

As the guards and officials began discussing strategies, Lior stood quietly, his mind drifting. He felt a strange sense of unease, like something important had happened that he couldn't remember.

From a distance, Kael watched the scene unfold, leaning casually against a pillar in the shadows. His face was unreadable, but his sharp eyes missed nothing. He'd done his part last night, and now, all he could do was wait and see how things played out.

As the king sat on his throne, his gaze swept the room, sharp and calculating. That's when he spotted Kael, leaning casually against a pillar, his arms crossed as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Kael," the king called, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the guards and officials.

Kael straightened, his face calm, and walked toward the throne with measured steps. When he reached the center of the room, he stopped, meeting the king's eyes without flinching.

The king leaned forward slightly. "From today onwards, none of my sons will go anywhere without guards," he said firmly, his voice carrying across the room. "I want their rooms protected and under surveillance at all times. Not a single blind spot."

The guards nodded in unison, their expressions serious. The head of the palace guard stepped forward. "It will be done, Your Majesty. I'll assign our best men to ensure their safety."

"Good," the king said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turned back to Kael, his gaze narrowing slightly. "You're always wandering off, Kael. I expect you to cooperate with the guards. No sneaking around or slipping out of sight."

Kael's lips twitched into a faint smirk, but he quickly masked it. "Of course, Father. Whatever you say."

The king frowned but didn't press further. "See that you do," he said firmly before addressing the room again. "If anything happens to any of my boys, it'll be on your heads. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the guards responded in unison, their voices echoing through the throne room.

Satisfied, the king leaned back in his seat. "Then get to it. I want every corner of this palace locked down and secure."

As the guards and officials moved to carry out his orders, Kael glanced at Lior, who was still standing quietly near the throne. Their eyes met briefly, and Kael gave his younger brother a small, reassuring nod before turning and slipping back into the crowd.

For now, he'd play along. But deep down, he knew the walls and guards wouldn't be enough if something like last night happened again.

In the depths of the Abyssal Cave, the air was thick with a strange, choking mist that seemed to hum with suppressed energy. The cavern walls pulsed faintly, as if alive, their dark, jagged surfaces lit by the eerie glow of a massive crimson crystal at the center of the chamber. Shadows danced wildly, cast by the flickering light of black flames burning in a circle of ornate braziers.

A group of hooded figures stood in the circle, their faces obscured, their postures tense. The tallest among them slammed a gloved hand onto the stone altar at the center, his voice a low growl filled with barely contained rage.

"How could this happen?" he demanded, his tone sharp enough to cut through the oppressive silence. "You assured me the plan was foolproof!"

Another figure, slightly shorter but just as imposing, stepped forward. His hood tilted downward as though avoiding the taller man's gaze. "The boy was alone, as expected," he said, his voice quieter but no less strained. "But something… something interfered. We don't know what yet."

"Useless," the tall figure spat, pacing around the altar. "We had one job. One! To secure the prince before the wards were tightened. Now, the entire palace is on high alert. The king will have guards crawling over every corner."

A third figure spoke, his voice smooth and calculating. "Perhaps this failure was a blessing in disguise. The prince is no ordinary boy. If he were, the interference wouldn't have happened. Whatever disrupted the plan likely came from him."

The tall figure stopped pacing and turned sharply toward the speaker. "Are you suggesting the boy is aware of his potential?"

"No," the third figure replied, shaking his head slightly. "Not yet. But if he's already causing disruptions, it's only a matter of time. We must act before he begins to understand who he truly is."

The group fell silent, the weight of the situation settling over them like a heavy fog. Finally, the tallest figure spoke again, his voice colder now, controlled.

"Then we have no choice. The boy cannot be taken as planned, not with the palace on lockdown. We'll need to adjust our approach."

"And what do you suggest?" the second figure asked, his tone tinged with hesitation.

The tall figure stepped closer to the altar, his hand brushing against the surface as if drawing strength from it. "We summon him."

A ripple of unease passed through the group, some shifting uncomfortably, others standing rigidly still.

"Summon him?" one of the quieter figures finally spoke, their voice trembling. "Are we certain that's wise? The risks—"

"Are irrelevant," the tall figure snapped, cutting them off. "We've already failed once. If we hesitate, we'll lose our chance entirely. He will come, and he will ensure the boy is delivered to us. Alive."