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Chapter 8: A home
Warm.It wrapped around him like a gentle embrace, chasing away the cold that had settled deep into his bones. Beneath him was a mattress so impossibly soft it felt as though he were sinking into clouds, while a thick blanket rested comfortably over his body.The air itself felt... safe.A faint breeze drifted through the room, carrying with it the smell of fresh herbs, baked bread, and simmering stew. It was a familiar scent.Comforting.For one fleeting moment, he simply lay there, breathing it in.It smelled......like home.Like evenings spent gathered around a small wooden table.Like laughter.Like his mother's cooking.His tense muscles loosened ever so slightly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt......at peace.Then—His thoughts caught up.A forest.Running.Chains.Excalibur.The creek.His eyes shot open.His breathing quickened.No.His heart slammed violently against his chest."I was running."Every trace of warmth vanished beneath a wave of panic
Chapter 7: A prayer
The hall seemed untouched by time. Every inch was fashioned from flawless white marble, so polished it reflected the daylight like still water.Its sides stood completely open, supported only by long rows of graceful columns, allowing the endless gardens beyond to become part of the hall itself. Birds sang freely among the flowers as a cool breeze wandered through the corridor, carrying with it an almost sacred tranquillity.Tap, tap, tap...The steady rhythm of footsteps echoed through the marble hall, measured and unhurried. A tall young man emerged from between the rows of pillars, his dark skin catching the morning light as he strode forward.Plain black trousers and a loosely buttoned white shirt hung comfortably from his frame, exposing the toned chest and sculpted abdomen beneath. His curly black hair framed a face that most would have called handsome, yet there was something about the way he carried himself, his stern expression, sharp gaze, and effortless confidence that stri
Chapter 6: the pillars.
King Lucius Pendragon hated waiting.Yet for the past hour, all he had done was pace the length of his chamber, each turn sharper than the last. His boots echoed against the polished marble floor as servants stood frozen along the walls, too terrified to even breathe loudly.“Now? Anything?” His voice rang out yet again, asking the same question that he had been for several minutes.In a corner of the room, a young lady sat behind a polished oak desk unlike any other in the room. Resting at its centre was a clear crystal nestled within an ornate silver holder.Ancient runes had been carved into every inch of the stand, glowing faintly with a pale blue light as mana flowed through them. Several thin mana conduits extended from its base, snaking across the desk before disappearing into smaller crystals and engraved metal plates arranged with meticulous precision. The entire workstation hummed softly with magical energy, as though the crystal itself were alive.“Not yet, Your Grace.” She
chapter 5: I don't care
‘Humans...’ ‘...are cruel.’ Alex's head bobbed from side to side as he was continuously dragged through the streets. People lined either side of him, held back by an impromptu barricade of knights. The once-busy roads had been brought to a standstill. Market stalls stood abandoned, merchants peered over their counters, children sat on their parents' shoulders, and nobles watched from the balconies overlooking the streets. Every pair of eyes followed him as though he were some grotesque spectacle put on display. Most remained silent. They simply watched. Others were less reserved. “Murderer!” “Monster!” “He killed his own family!” “Kin slayer!” “He deserves worse than death!” The insults came one after another, louder than the last. Some spat in his direction, while others threw rotten fruit and pebbles that bounced harmlessly off his bruised body. Alex kept his head lowered. His filthy blond hair hung over his face, hiding his hollow eyes from the crowd. Whether he did it
Chapter 4: The court of the king
People ran as fast as their legs could carry them, men and women, boys and girls alike, all running to one place. The Castle. It was a rare occasion to be invited to the castle. It usually meant something was worth celebrating or something had gone terribly wrong. And there was no celebration this time. Word spread like wildfire even before the castle invitation was issued. Everybody had already heard. Everybody had an idea of what it would be about. The Perde massacre. It was the most talked-about thing in the kingdom currently. A prestigious noble house had been almost completely wiped out, leaving only one survivor. The castle's towering gates were wide open, with people freely moving in and out as they pleased. People spoke amongst themselves, each murmuring their own thoughts on the matter as they waited patiently for what was supposed to happen. Then finally, the great doors of the throne room groaned open. Silence followed. Not because anyone had been told
Chapter 3: The fall of house perde.
The dining hall of House Perde was a testament to generations of wealth and prestige. A long table of polished oak stretched through the center of the room, its gleaming surface illuminated by crystal chandeliers hanging overhead. Tall windows lined the walls, allowing the warm glow of the evening sun to spill across marble floors and richly woven carpets imported from distant kingdoms. Portraits of past members of House Perde watched silently from gilded frames, while silver cutlery, crystal glasses, and fine porcelain plates had been arranged with almost military precision before each seat. The aroma of roasted meats, fresh bread, and exotic spices filled the air, enough to distract even the most disciplined knight. Around the table were six seats, but only four of them were filled. Regald Perde sat at the head of the table, watching his children talk and laugh with a proud smile. On one side was Justin, chatting away happily to his brother and sister. His brother sat in the s
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