Chapter 31: A Journey to the Capital

Some days later , The royal carriage rolled steadily along the cobblestone road leading to the heart of Celestia. Inside, Aiden sat next to his mother, Lyria, his posture calm and composed, but his sharp eyes were alight with curiosity. Despite his small frame, he carried himself with an air of maturity that made him seem far older than his age

"How far is the capital now?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

"We're close," Lyria replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You'll know it when you see it. The capital is unlike any other place in the kingdom."

As the carriage crested a hill, the city of Celestia came into view, sprawling out like a jewel against the horizon. Even Aiden, with his disciplined demeanor, couldn't help but lean forward to get a better look. His heart quickened at the sight.

The towering stone walls that surrounded the city were a testament to its strength and history. Intricate carvings depicting great battles and legendary figures adorned the walls, telling the story of a kingdom forged through courage and sacrifice.

Inside the gates, the city was alive with energy. Merchants called out their wares from colorful stalls lining the bustling streets, their voices mingling with the laughter of children and the hum of conversations. Horses pulled carts laden with goods, and well-dressed nobles strolled alongside commoners, a testament to the relative harmony within the kingdom.

Aiden's sharp eyes darted from one sight to the next, taking in the vibrant life around him. A blacksmith hammered away at his forge, sending sparks flying into the air. A group of street performers juggled flaming torches to the delight of a small crowd. The aroma of freshly baked bread and roasted meats wafted through the air, mingling with the earthy scent of cobblestones warmed by the sun.

"It's so... alive," Aiden murmured, almost to himself.

Lyria glanced at her son, her expression softening. "The capital is the heart of the kingdom, Aiden. Every road leads here, and every decision made here ripples across Celestia."

"Do you miss living here, Mother?" he asked, his gaze never leaving the window.

For a moment, Lyria's smile faltered, and her eyes held a distant look. "Sometimes," she admitted. "But I prefer the quiet of our home. This city holds memories—both good and bad."

Aiden nodded thoughtfully, sensing the weight in her words but knowing better than to press further.

As the carriage neared the royal palace, the atmosphere changed. The streets widened, lined with flowering trees whose blossoms danced in the breeze. The chatter of the city faded, replaced by the steady rhythm of the carriage wheels and the soft rustle of leaves.

The palace itself was a masterpiece of architecture, its pristine white marble walls glistening under the sun. Golden spires reached toward the heavens, and the massive gates—crafted from dark iron and inlaid with the phoenix crest—stood as a symbol of strength and protection.

Guards in polished silver armor stood at attention along the road, their sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. When the royal carriage came into view, their rigid expressions softened, and they saluted in perfect unison.

"They recognize the crest," Lyria explained as the gates began to open without hesitation.

Aiden's gaze lingered on the guards, noting the discipline in their movements and the quiet confidence in their bearing. He couldn't help but admire their dedication.

The carriage rolled smoothly into the palace grounds, where lush gardens spread out in every direction. Rows of meticulously trimmed hedges bordered pathways lined with vibrant flowers, their colors forming intricate patterns. A grand fountain stood at the center, its crystal-clear waters cascading in elegant arcs.

Aiden stepped out of the carriage with practiced ease, his small frame dwarfed by the grandeur around him. He took a moment to absorb the scene—the towering palace doors adorned with intricate carvings, the rows of guards standing like statues, and the sheer scale of the palace itself.

"It's even larger than I imagined," he remarked quietly, his voice steady but laced with awe.

Lyria stepped beside him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. "This palace is more than a home for the royal family. It's a symbol of the kingdom's strength and unity."

Before Aiden could respond, the massive doors creaked open, revealing two figures waiting to greet them.

Standing at the entrance were Calithea Solvayne and Draven Solvayne,the children of King Keiran.

Calithea, at eighteen, radiated grace and poise. Her golden hair shimmered like sunlight, cascading down her back in loose waves, and her emerald-green eyes sparkled with warmth. She wore a deep crimson gown embroidered with gold, her posture regal yet welcoming.

Beside her stood her younger brother, Draven, a lively boy of twelve. His black hair caught the light, and his sharp blue eyes reflected both curiosity and mischief. Dressed in a simple tunic adorned with the phoenix crest, he exuded an air of youthful confidence.

"Aunt Lyria," Calithea greeted, curtsying elegantly. "It's an honor to welcome you back to the palace."

Draven grinned broadly and stepped forward, his enthusiasm evident. "It's great to see you again! And this must be Aiden," he said, his voice filled with excitement.

Aiden inclined his head politely, his calm demeanor earning an approving glance from Calithea. "It's nice to meet you both," he said simply.

Calithea's smile softened. "You're just as remarkable as I imagined."

Draven, less reserved, grabbed Aiden's hand. "Come on! Let me show you around. There's so much to see!"

Aiden hesitated, glancing at Lyria for approval. She gave a small nod, her expression amused.

"Go on," she said. "I'll catch up with you later."

Draven led Aiden through the grand halls of the palace, his youthful energy infectious. Calithea followed at a more measured pace, her gaze occasionally drifting to Aiden with curiosity.

"This is the Hall of Heroes," Draven announced as they entered a corridor lined with towering statues. Each one depicted a legendary figure from the kingdom's history, their features carved with incredible detail.

"Father says every statue here tells a story," Draven continued. "Like this one—General Thalor. He led the army during the Battle of the Eastern Plains. They say he fought off an entire battalion by himself!"

Aiden studied the statue, his sharp mind piecing together the significance of the hall. "It's not just a corridor," he said quietly. "It's a reminder of the sacrifices that built this kingdom."

Calithea glanced at him, her expression thoughtful. "You see things differently," she observed.

Aiden met her gaze, his own steady. "It's important to understand the meaning behind what's presented to us."

Calithea smiled, impressed by his insight.