Chapter 5: Shadows of the Past
The sky had darkened by the time Leonhardt Valerian Everhart returned to his chambers. The castle lay silent, save for the distant murmurs of guards patrolling the halls. The moon hung high, its pale glow casting long shadows across the polished marble floor.
He moved with quiet precision, unfastening his training tunic and tossing it aside. His body bore faint bruises, remnants of his earlier sparring session with his father. Even though he was merely ten years old, he pushed himself harder than knights twice his age. **Strength was his only path forward.**
But tonight, his mind was restless.
Seated by the window, he gazed out at the sprawling lands of the Everhart territory. A vast empire of power and influence, yet **none of it mattered to him.** Not the wealth, not the prestige, not even the admiration of nobles who whispered about his talent.
**All he wanted was freedom.**
Not for himself, but for **her.**
Aetheria Nyx Lunaris Solis.
The mere thought of her name sent a quiet storm through his mind. Somewhere beyond the stars, beyond the limits of his mortal form, she remained trapped. Bound by a seal older than empires, older than the gods who still walked this land.
**He needed more power.**
The magic he wielded now was a mere fraction of what he once commanded. In his past life, he was the strongest of all gods—the King of Gods. The cosmos had trembled at his will, and even the most ancient beings had bowed before his might.
But now? Now he was a boy bound by human limitations, trapped in a world that saw him as nothing more than a prodigy.
That had to change.
---
### **The Forbidden Chamber**
The castle held many secrets, but none as deeply hidden as **the chamber beneath the western wing.**
Leonhardt moved through the dimly lit corridors with practiced ease, his steps silent as a shadow. The guards stationed throughout the estate were vigilant, but they were nothing to him. He had long since memorized their routes, their shifts, their blind spots.
Reaching a dead-end corridor, he placed his palm against the cold stone wall. A pulse of energy surged through his fingers as the ancient mechanism responded to his magic. The stones **shifted,** revealing a hidden passage leading into the depths of the castle.
The air grew colder as he descended, the scent of old magic thick in the atmosphere. **This was his true sanctuary.**
The underground chamber stretched before him, its walls lined with forgotten tomes and artifacts of immense power. Runes flickered along the stone floor, remnants of an age when gods still roamed freely.
At the center of the room, an ancient **obsidian altar** stood, its surface carved with inscriptions no modern scholar could decipher. **But he could.**
Leonhardt stepped forward, placing his hands over the markings. A rush of energy surged through him as the magic recognized its master. The runes pulsed, whispering in a long-forgotten language.
_"What do you seek, O King of the Forsaken?"_
His voice was steady, unwavering. **"Power."**
The air trembled. The altar's magic reacted violently, shadows writhing like living creatures. The chamber darkened, the torches along the walls flickering as if struggling to remain alight.
But Leonhardt did not flinch.
This was a test. A mere fragment of the ancient forces that had once tried to defy him in his past life. He had conquered them before. He would do so again.
Lifting his hand, he focused his will. The shadows lunged, seeking to consume him, but the moment they touched his skin—
**They shattered.**
The runes dimmed, the chamber falling silent once more.
Leonhardt exhaled slowly, his heartbeat steady.
**It wasn't enough.**
The seal on Aetheria remained intact. He could feel its presence in the deepest recesses of his soul. A barrier he had yet to break.
His hand curled into a fist.
He had to go further.
---
### **The Grand Duke's Warning**
The next morning, as the castle stirred with life, Leonhardt found himself in the presence of **his father.**
Damian Aurelius Everhart sat in his private study, his imposing form seated behind a massive oak desk. Unlike the regal grandeur of the throne room, this chamber was simple—filled with old war maps, records of battles, and the weight of countless decisions that had shaped the Everhart legacy.
The Grand Duke's eyes were as sharp as ever, watching his son with an intensity that could unsettle even the strongest of men.
"Sit."
Leonhardt obeyed without question, taking the chair across from him.
For a long moment, his father said nothing. Then, finally—
"You push yourself harder than any child I have ever seen."
It was not a compliment, nor a criticism. A mere observation.
Leonhardt met his father's gaze with the same unyielding expression. "Strength is necessary."
Damian leaned forward slightly, fingers interlacing. "I will not ask why you train beyond reason. I will not ask what fuels your hunger for power." His voice lowered. "But I will tell you this—**power without restraint leads to destruction.**"
Leonhardt remained silent.
"I have no doubt that you will one day surpass even me," Damian continued. "Perhaps sooner than anyone expects." His eyes darkened slightly. "But be careful, Leonhardt. There are eyes on you. The empire does not tolerate threats beyond its control."
**A warning.**
Leonhardt inclined his head slightly, acknowledging his father's words. But deep down, he knew.
The empire was the least of his concerns.
He had far greater enemies to face.
And far greater battles to win.
---
### **A Promise to the Moon**
That night, as the world lay still, Leonhardt stood beneath the open sky. The wind whispered through the courtyard, the stars gleaming like scattered diamonds above him.
He closed his eyes.
And in the silence, he made a vow.
**No matter what it takes… I will free you.**
The shadows stirred at his feet, responding to his unspoken promise.
**And when that day comes—**
The world will tremble once more.