She recoiled as if struck. For a heartbeat, the only sound was the distant roll of thunder beyond the windows. Then

" You used her ," Onohall whispered.

Dracovis said nothing.

Nazuma’s pulse roared in his ears. The potion of Marashin’s breath burned like a second heartbeat in his veins. He ...

The corridor swallowed them whole with high ceilings arched like a ribcage, torchlight flickering between the bones of the palace. Nazuma’s footsteps echoed too loudly, his boots scuffing deliberately against the polished stone just to hear something *real*. Dazuma matched his pace, silent as a ...

Outside, the academy bells tolled the hour, deep, resonant strokes that vibrated through the stone. Mi'tres straightened, her momentary vulnerability vanishing behind her usual crisp demeanor. "Back to your stations, it is almost high noon, lunch will soon be served," she ordered. "Your classmates ...

Nazuma paced like a caged storm, the silver sigil on his forehead pulsing faintly. "He's * sick *," he insisted again, fingers curling into fists. "Not resting. Sick like" He faltered, unable to articulate the grey-veined horror they'd witnessed in the Sunset Gallery.

Mi'tres leaned against a ...

Outside, the bells fell silent. The twins didn’t relax. If anything, their postures grew more rigid waiting for the next tremor, the next scream, the next sign their brother had lost himself entirely. Mi'tres Flonne watched them with the patience of a perched hawk. "The sphere," she reminded them ...

Dawn came reluctantly, the sun bleeding crimson through the palace windows, staining the obsidian floors like spilled wine. The King and Queen rose stiffly, their movements deliberate, garments donned with the practiced efficiency of those who had faced countless dawns heavy with duty. The intimacy ...

The King's chambers were a fortress of silence after the hall's uneasy murmur. Moonlight streamed through tall windows, painting silver bars on the obsidian floor. Onohall dismissed the attendants with a flick of her wrist, the heavy doors thudding shut. She turned to Dracovis, her expression ...

A soft rustle came from the shadows near the heavy drapes. The Flonne Medic stepped forward, her movements unnervingly silent. Her robes were simple grey linen, smelling faintly of crushed mint and damp earth. Her eyes, large and dark as polished river stones, settled on Myos. "Prince Myos," she ...

The next morning arrived not with whispers of rot, but with the frantic clatter of preparation. Denkou’s annual Royal Gala bloomed across the palace grounds like a forced flower. Servants draped banners depicting entwined wind and storm sigils over every archway. Musicians tuned instruments near the ...

Chapter One: The King and His Sons

Nine Years later…

The solar pole spun lazily outside the shop, its stripes bleeding red and white onto the cobblestones. Dazuma watched it, chin resting on folded arms propped against the sill of his father's study. Below, a merchant argued with a guard over ...