Chapter 51

It was early spring, and the palace buzzed with excitement over upcoming festivals and ceremonies. Yet in the quiet of the royal chambers, Zerach and Freda felt the tension that hovered beneath the city’s joy. Freda’s round belly hinted at the boy they would soon welcome — Kael’s younger brother, whose innocent presence would bring hope and happiness. Zerach often found himself watching Freda as she moved gracefully through the halls, holding Kael’s hand, brushing Lucien’s hair back from his forehead, or laughing softly at some private joke. In those moments, the weight of his guilt over past mistakes lifted, and he allowed himself to feel peace.

But the night was not as calm as it seemed. One evening, as the city settled under a blanket of stars, Lyra sat alone in her forest clearing, Mira beside her. The wind rustled through the trees, carrying a hint of something unfamiliar, almost ominous. Lyra hummed softly as she polished her weapons, trying to distract herself from the sense of unease that had grown in her chest.

“Mira,” she whispered, “I can feel it. Something is coming. My dreams are stronger now… I see shadows, people in black garments with horns like mine, and they all bow to me. I… I also see Lucien, but it’s fleeting, and I can’t reach him.”

Mira’s expression darkened. “It is beginning, Lyra. The prophecy is awakening. The powers that were once hidden are now stirring. You, your brother, Kael… all of you carry a legacy that cannot be ignored. Next week, when you turn eighteen, the trial will begin. You must be prepared — not just for yourselves, but for the kingdom. The world will test you, and it will not show mercy.”

Lyra shivered, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m ready, Mother… I think. But what if I fail?”

Mira’s hand rested firmly on her shoulder. “You will not fail. You have strength, wisdom, and courage. Remember that. And you are not alone. Lucien, Kael… your family is with you. But you must also trust yourself. The night will come, and with it, choices that could shape the fate of Sungai.”

Back in the palace, Zerach and Freda watched their children with pride and concern. Lucien trained tirelessly, pushing himself harder each day under his father’s guidance. Though the mark within him remained dormant, subtle hints of its presence had begun to manifest. He noticed small changes in his body — strength beyond his usual, heightened senses, and moments when his emotions would flare uncontrollably. Zerach, observing quietly, sometimes caught a flicker of golden energy along his son’s spine and knew that the legacy of the prophecy was awakening within him.

Kael, oblivious to the weight of destiny, found joy in simple pleasures — chasing birds in the gardens, climbing the palace walls, and teasing Lucien mercilessly. Lucien, despite his responsibilities, indulged his younger brother with laughter and patience, knowing that these moments of childhood were fleeting.

Freda, meanwhile, moved through the palace like a calming presence. Her patience and kindness had won over not only Lucien but the entire city. The townspeople trusted her, the council respected her, and even the children felt her warmth. Her pregnancy was showing now, a symbol of hope and continuation, and she glowed with both health and happiness.

As spring gave way to summer, the city thrived. The markets overflowed with goods, the rivers shimmered with sunlight, and the palace itself became a place of learning and joy. Zerach often found himself walking with Freda through the gardens, holding her hand, feeling the life growing within her. “I want this happiness to last forever,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Freda smiled, placing a hand over his. “It will, my love. As long as we protect it, nurture it, and never forget why we fought for it.”

One evening, as twilight painted the city in gold and crimson, a strange occurrence disrupted their peace. Lucien, training alone in the palace courtyard, suddenly felt an intense heat along his back. His eyes glowed faintly, golden sparks flickering like fire. He staggered, gripping his chest, as if pulled by an invisible force. Kael, sensing something unusual, ran to his side.

“Lucien! Are you okay?” the little boy asked, concern etched across his innocent face.

Lucien struggled to steady his breath. “I… I don’t know, Kael. Something is… happening.”

Zerach, sensing the disturbance, hurried to the courtyard. His eyes widened in alarm as he saw the glow along his son’s spine. “Lucien!” he shouted, rushing forward. The boy stumbled into his father’s arms, trembling, and Zerach’s heart clenched.

“It’s the mark, Father,” Lucien whispered, voice shaking. “It… it’s waking.”

Zerach held him tightly, his mind racing. The prophecy had begun. The power that had been hidden for seventeen years was no longer dormant. And somewhere far away, Lyra felt a similar pulse of energy, a mirror of her brother’s awakening. She collapsed briefly as Mira rushed to her side, recognizing the unmistakable signs of her own mark beginning to stir.

In the palace, Freda held Kael close, her heart heavy with worry. “We must remain strong,” she whispered. “For them, for Lucien… and for the future of Sungai.”

As night fell, the palace became a place of vigilance. The city slept unaware, but within the walls, the royal family prepared for the storm that was coming. Powers long hidden, destinies foretold, and the shadows of the past converged upon the present. Lucien, Lyra, and Kael were no longer children of innocence — they were heirs to a legacy that demanded courage, wisdom, and sacrifice.

And at the heart of it all, Zerach and Freda stood together, a united front, knowing that the coming days would test everything they held dear.

The stars above shimmered, silent witnesses to the awakening of destiny.

The night had just begun.