The King's Guard

Chapter 84

Rows of cadets sparred under banners bearing the Shadow Corps insignia, their shouts clashing with the clang of steel. But in the centre ring, all noise seemed to fold around one person.

Kael.

His blade moved like water. Every strike landed with purpose. Every parry looked effortless.

From the sidelines, Jared watched, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Except for his eyes, those burned too bright.

Reyna leaned beside him. “You could at least look like you’re happy for him.”

“I am,” Jared muttered, jaw tight. “He’s getting good.”

“Too good?” she asked lightly.

Jared’s gaze didn’t move from the ring. “Maybe.”

Kael disarmed his opponent with a sharp twist, knocking the cadet’s weapon aside before saluting. The crowd of trainees murmured admiration: whispers of his control, of his Rift precision, of his potential.

Jared turned away first.

Kyna’s voice came from behind. “You used to train like that.”

He half-smirked. “Yeah, before the rules changed.”

“No one changed the rules, Jared,” Kyna said quietly. “He just learned how to bend them.”

He didn’t respond. But his fists had curled, and Kyna noticed.

That night, Kael sat at his workbench, tuning the temporal stabiliser: a compact metallic device linked to his Rift control. Its pulse was steady, glowing faint blue.

Reyna poked her head in. “You’re still awake?”

“I want it perfect before the evaluation,” he said. “If it glitches mid-test, Archon will bury me.”

She stepped inside. “You’ve been pushing hard. Even Darius is starting to look concerned.”

Kael smiled faintly. “He’d be more concerned if I stopped.”

Reyna hesitated, watching him work. The way his focus narrowed to the hum of the device made something stir in her chest: pride, worry, maybe both.

She finally said, “You know Jared’s been acting strange.”

Kael didn’t look up. “He’s always strange.”

“No,” she said. “This is different. Distant. Angry.”

Kael stopped tightening the screws. “At me?”

“At everything,” she replied. “Just… keep your guard up.”

He nodded, though his thoughts drifted to the last time Jared had looked at him, that unreadable stare that wasn’t hatred but something darker, messier.

Reyna squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late.”

Morning came harsh and blinding.

The final training evaluations gathered half the Corps on the upper terrace: commanders, instructors, and Archon himself among them. Darius stood beside him, hands clasped behind his back, scanning the ranks.

Kael’s squad was up third.

“Stabiliser test, Phase Two,” barked the technician. “Cadet Kael Varion, step forward.”

Kael did. The stabiliser at his belt pulsed to life.

Jared stood nearby, arms crossed, watching every move.

Reyna whispered, “You’ve got this.”

He nodded once and closed his eyes.

The Rift shimmered open behind him. He stepped forward into it, controlling the pull with perfect precision.

At first, everything worked. The ripple stabilised, the anchor readings steady.

Then the pulse flickered.

Kael frowned. “What…”

The stabiliser buzzed, lights surging red. The Rift flared unstably, twisting into violent arcs. Time around him began to fracture: voices echoing seconds ahead, his own hand blurring out of sync.

“Shut it down!” shouted an instructor.

Kael gritted his teeth, fighting control. The air vibrated with heat and pressure. He focused on the Rift’s core, twisted the field back, redirecting its energy.

Then…snap!

Silence. The Rift folded inward, collapsing harmlessly.

The terrace erupted with alarmed whispers. Kael stood breathing hard, smoke rising from the stabiliser’s side port.

Archon’s gaze was cold from the balcony. “Explain that.”

Kael straightened. “System surge. Possibly interference.”

“Possibly?” Archon repeated, voice flat. “You nearly tore a hole through my courtyard.”

Darius stepped forward calmly. “He contained it before it destabilised. That’s control, not recklessness.”

Archon’s stare lingered, then shifted to Kael’s scorched belt. “We’ll inspect the stabiliser.”

Kael handed it over silently.

Hours later, he sat in the maintenance lab while the technicians examined the device.

Reyna and Kyna hovered nearby. Jared stood in the corner.

One of the technicians whistled. “Deliberate alteration,” he said. “Power filament twisted half a degree counterflow.”

Reyna blinked. “Meaning?”

“Meaning someone tampered with it.”

Kael’s head snapped up. “Tampered…?”

The tech turned the casing toward them. “See this seam? Hand tools. Fine work, but obvious if you know where to look.”

Silence spread through the room like frost.

Reyna’s voice was sharp. “Who had access?”

“Everyone in the squad,” Kyna said quietly. Her eyes went to Jared just for a second.

Jared scoffed. “You think I’d risk getting us expelled?”

“Depends,” Reyna shot back. “You’ve been snapping at him for weeks.”

He laughed, bitter and low. “You think this is jealousy?”

Kael rose slowly. “If it isn’t, tell me what it is.”

Jared’s jaw clenched. “It’s watching someone turn into a symbol while the rest of us turn into shadows.”

Reyna stepped between them. “Enough.”

But Jared didn’t stop. He took a step closer, eyes burning. “You think you’re chosen, Kael? That the Rift answers only to you? Newsflash, it kills those who reach too far.”

Kael’s voice stayed even. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“No,” Jared said softly. “You just keep surviving it.”

Darius entered then, breaking the tension. “What’s going on?”

Reyna answered first. “Someone sabotaged Kael’s stabiliser.”

Darius’s expression hardened. “Can it be traced?”

The technician hesitated. “The tools used… would match any Corps kit.”

“So, no,” Darius said. “Then drop it. No accusations without proof.”

Kael wanted to speak, but Darius’s tone left no room.

That evening, the field was empty except for Jared. He stood alone, staring at the scorched marks left from Kael’s Rift flare.

The sound of footsteps drew his attention.

Velreth approached him.

“Impressive show today,” the elder commander said smoothly. “Even when it failed, it drew attention.”

Jared tensed. “Wasn’t meant to fail.”

“Of course not,” Velreth said. “Still…you’ve proven something. You’re willing to act.”

“Act?” Jared said, turning. “You think I sabotaged him for you?”

Velreth’s smile was faint. “For me? No. For yourself, perhaps. Or for your father.”

Jared’s chest tightened. “Leave him out of it.”

Velreth’s voice lowered. “You can’t escape blood, Jared. Lord Eryndor’s influence reaches farther than you imagine.”

“I’m nothing like him,” Jared snapped.

“Then prove it,” Velreth said softly. “The next evaluation will separate the Corpsmen from the pretenders. Make sure you’re on the right side.”

Back in his quarters, Kael sat on his bunk, the repaired stabiliser in his lap.

He ran a thumb along the edge where the damage had been.

Reyna entered quietly. “Darius says your readings held steady during the collapse. You actually stabilised it without the filament.”

Kael looked up. “Meaning?”

“Meaning you did the impossible,” she said with a faint smile.

He didn’t smile back. “Or someone wanted me to fail and misjudged how much control I had.”

Reyna hesitated. “You think it was Jared?”

“I think I don’t want to think that,” Kael said softly.

She moved closer. “You’re not alone in this.”

“I know,” he murmured. “But sometimes, that’s what scares me.”

Her hand brushed his for a second before pulling him for a deep kiss. Then she turned for the door. “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s another test.”