2026-02-27 11:36:07
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Mirrors of the Void
Rhaegar was still sleeping in his bed when his mother came into his room. The soft sound of the door opening pulled him out of his sleep. He blinked slowly, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes with the back of his hand. Seeing his mama there so early caught him off guard. This was always her prayer time. She never missed it for anything.He glanced at the wall clock. It was exactly six on the dot. Her prayers usually last until 6:30 AM.“Mom…” he muttered, sitting up. His voice still has a trace of sleep in it.She gave a small nod, but her face looked nervous, like she was about to lose her precious son. “Your father is waiting for you downstairs. It is time for the trip to the Fortress of Light.”Rhaegar was confused for a moment as he stared at her for a second. “He is waiting outside right now? So we can leave for the Fortress?”His mother nodded again. “Yes. Have you changed your mind about going?”He shook his head hard. “No. No! Not at all.” The words came out quick, but in
The Girl On The Balcony
Prince Rhaegar's hand unconsciously went to the leather sheath where he had slid back his sword and he clenched it tightly.He stared at the figure at the balcony before be quickly shifted his eyes away from there, forcing gaze directly to the ground. Seeing her there was what caught him off guard, like he was not expecting his eyes to land on her.He let out a low sigh and resume walking. He stepped off the platform with steady steps. The crowd made way for him, their faces filled with a mix of awe and also confusion. The scene had left them speechless because no one expected the outcome.This was the Stilled Prince, the one they had all tagged as useless, and is only popular because of his royal blood. But now? They were starting to doubt it. How could some one who can not even channel or even feel the source move like that? He even defeated Draven without breaking a sweat. It felt like they were dreaming, and there were starting to have second thoughts. Draven had only lost o
Steel Vs Silver Thread
In Groveward Academy, Draven was known as a legend for all the wrong reasons. He was not a noble and was not rich. He was just street-smart in a way that made everyone else feel dumb. If you needed any rare item, a spare uniform when yours got ruined, or even someone to put the right word with the tutor to fix a failing mark, you go to Draven. But he had one rule written in his book; nothing was free. You named your wager, you fight for it on the practice ground. Win, and whatever you wanted was yours. Lose, and he get to keep your stake and you walked away empty-handed. Sometimes, if he was in a rare good mood and liked your face, he might still hand over the prize after you lost. Most days, though, he did not.That was why the practice ground was already packed even though the afternoon session had barely ended. The wide stone platform was at the middle of the field, and below it was juniors who were fighting for to stay in the front row. Girls in clean Groveward uniform giggled
The Gamble
The hall fell into silent as all eyes snapped toward the source of the voice. Sweing who it was, a few students snorted under their breath, muttering things like, "Of course, it's always someone from Shardfell." Every kingdoms in Oros were divided into Blood Duchies, mighty territories ruled by Blood Dukes or Duchesses who swore a blood oath and answered only to their king. In Elyria, there were five such duchies: Springfell, Silverfell, Veinfell, Shardfell, and Mountainfell. And the voice that had just spoke belonged to young Lord Kael, son of Blood Duke Thalor of Shardfell.Everyone knew Kael is answerable to the Prince of Elyria in theory, but they also knew the bad blood between Shardfell and the royal line. Blood Duke Thalor and Shardfell as a whole were always against Rhaegar and his father, King Sigismund.Rhaegar did not say a word. He just held Kael's gaze for a moment before shifting his eyes away. Rhaegar knew that, just like his father, Kael was wanting for a way to
Roots, Steel, and Scorn
Rhaegar's face was stone-cold as he stared at his mother, her chest was rising and falling weakly as the king weave the healing threads into her. Deep down, he blamed himself for every bit of this mess, the war that happened years ago, the fall of Elyria, his mother broken body. It was all because of him. He felt guilty every time he remember the story of what happened that eighteen years ago. The guilt knocked the wind out of him like a punch to the gut. He had not asked to be born with these three powers. He had not asked for the kingdoms to turn on each other, or for the blame to stick to him like a curse. An eighteen year old should not have to carry the weight of a shattered continent, but here he was, blaming himself for everything that has happened. He bit his lower lip hard and walked over to the high bed and leaned his back against it to steady himself. Even if they were able to unstilled him today, it might not matter. King Hadrian had shattered his essence first, th
Failed Ritual
Inside the royal palace's inner chamber, a high altar bed was at the center of the chamber. On top of the altar bed was a young man who seems to be eighteen, his eyes were closed, and he was dressed only in short trousers. Candles encircled him on the bed's surface, their flames flickering softly.Surrounding the altar were five level 3 healers, their faces were filled with focus.At the altar's heart was the master healer, a man in a white robe, also a level 3 healer.A closer look at the young man's chest, one could see a circular mark over his heart, it was the Stillness Seal, embedded in his chest like a parasite.By the window was a man in his late forties, dressed in a royal robe. His hands clasped behind his back, and a faint worry was visible on his face.Beside him was a woman in her early forties, her right hand was pressed to her lips. Her eyes were fixed on the altar where the young man was on. Her skin was pale and grayish, as if she might collapse at any moment.Noticin
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