Shaden looked out of his window. They would have already arrived at Danark if he’d flown them there.

“You look bored,” the prince commented, tapping on the small table between them. “A game, perhaps?”

“Your games aren’t fun,” Shaden said. “What about the bodyguards?”

“I wouldn’t become too close with them,” Boren yawned. “They are my father’s—no, the Guardian's eyes. It would be heartbreaking to see them devastated when we vanish. So no, I cannot befriend them.”

“What happens to them after we’re gone?”

“They’ll report back to the capital. Maybe they will receive a punishment for allowing me to escape.”

“Maybe?”

“Definitely,” the prince corrected. “All the reason why I don’t want to get close with them.”

“That’s selfish. I’ve heard that executions are common when dealing with royalty.”

“Oh? Who told you that?”

“I’ve experienced it,” Shaden said. “Will all of these people get executed?”

“Maybe they will stop at the horses.”

“The horses? What did the horses do wrong?”

“They brought us here. That is their wrongdoing. I suppose they will be eaten. And the soldiers—let’s hope for the best.”

Boren let out a loud laugh after Shaden scowled. He seemed to be in good spirits. Shaden could only stare at him with narrowed eyes, wondering if he truly meant it. Boren was a good-natured man, but would he so easily throw away lives for his own sake?

He was a prince after all.

“It was a joke, Shaden,” Boren said, wiping his eyes. “What kind of ruler would dispose of their subjects so easily? Besides, they know that I can overpower them single-handedly. They also believe that when I do, they will be able to locate me immediately, bringing me back. The Reaper Squad will likely be sent.”

“There are probably two among the guards,” Shaden said quietly. “two of them feel different.”

“Really? Can you sense him, Marken?”

The small dragon shook his long neck. It growled in the low, soft tone, closing his eyes.

“Your perception amazes me,” Boren said. “Indeed, there seems to be two. They are those that I don’t know, but my kindred tells me that they are powerful.”

“The king must not trust you.”

“It’s common for royalty to be accompanied by the Reaper Squad. The weaker they are, the more Reapers are assigned. I’d believed that I’d become capable enough to have none.”

“Maybe it’s not for your protection.”

“Likely not.”

They silently agreed that they were being watched. Their whole trip had reeked of suspiciousness from the start, after all. Shaden had requested that he and his family visit Danark to organize their house, and the prince had declared that he would go with them, wanting to see the south for himself. The king had allowed it more easily than he’d expected, and Shaden was confident that it was due to the Guardian’s blessing that their permission had come so readily. The biggest flaw in their plan was that they had no idea to know what the Guardian was thinking, but it was a risk they had to take.

There were many dangers to their plan. The Guardian was an old and powerful dragon. If it could bypass the Forest of the Lost, the prince’s escape would fail. If it had magic more powerful than his shadow, everything would be ruined. Without a proper measuring stick to compare the Guardian and himself to, Shaden knew that he was jumping into unknown territory. For all he knew, the prince’s dragon could also be a spy, though Boren denied it, stating that it shared its mind with him. But was the smaller dragon not an embodiment of the Guardian itself?

Rather than plan, they’d talked and had tea time more. There hadn’t been much of an option in planning from the beginning. Shaden’s power and Skotos were Boren’s hope, and if they failed, no other option would be left.

“If it fails, it was simply an unexpected and exciting trip from the beginning,” Boren stated. “But you will need to answer many questions.”

“About my family and Skotos, I’m guessing. And my power too.”

“Yes. It won’t be as lenient as before. But I will prevent the worst.”

“What is the worst?”

“Execution.”

Shaden had never been afraid of dying. Death simply felt so far away, and it felt like even if he died, he would still wake up as Demund as if nothing had ever happened. But it was his family’s death that he truly feared for. Skotos—he prayed that it would prove to be superior.

He hadn’t told Boren about his true intentions yet. If he went through with it and failed, he suspected that even Boren would not be able to save him.

Shaden reached into his pocket and wrapped his fingers around a familiar card-shaped item. The Great Library’s Librarian still owed him a favor. From what he’d deduced, the Great Libary was also ruled by a dragon. With the golden card, his family could be kept safe in the worst-case scenario. His grandfather would be able to escape with his family if Skotos was breached.

Was he being rash? Definitely. But this would be a test—both against the dragon and against himself. He had to confirm one thing, and it was something that had been gnawing him to the bone.

The world—was it a real location in the universe or some hyper-realistic dream world that his power had created? There were no aliens in his world. As far as the general public was concerned, their planet was the only habitable one. While it was true that his magic worked in the waking world, it could all be a part of his power—to allow him to learn through his dreams.

“What do you think happens to people when they die?” Shaden asked.

Boren blinked, slightly leaning back on his seat. “The elves believe in an elven paradise in the Spirit Realm. And spirits do exist, though their words are not very credible. Maybe our souls will go there—to the Spirit Realm where the afterlife might exist.”

“Have you met spirits before?”

“No. But I have met a spirit contractor. She was an ambassador from Yrmar, an elf.”

“A spirit contractor.”

“Yes. They are not common. Spirits are mysterious beings, just like the afterlife.”

“And dragons.”

“Dragons?” Boren chuckled. “I suppose the Guardian is mysterious. But my kindred, being bonded with me, is very much like me. But why the sudden curiosity?”

“What if I told you that this world was my dream,” Shaden stated, “and that everything I wished for became possible with a little effort? So I began to wonder about death in this world. Even if someone dies, would it not matter? Would there be no guilt because it’s only a dream?”

“A dream,” Boren repeated. “If you truly believe what you said, then my death—and the death of my siblings—would mean nothing to you.”

“I didn’t mean—I was blabbering,” Shaden corrected. “I wasn’t trying to say that.”

“Surely not.”

An uncomfortable silence persisted between the two, and Shaden, not having much experience in such matters, thought about a hundred things to say that would bring the conversation back. But none of them seemed to fit.

Why had he said that? He’d suddenly blurted it. He’d heard that telling people inside a dream that they were in a dream would make them react weirdly. Was that why he’d said it? He wasn’t thinking clearly.

But the prince broke the quiet. “Those who are too powerful tend to become filled with delusions,” the prince said while looking at the window. “Some call themselves gods. Believing to be inside of a dream could be another.”

He understands nothing, Shaden thought.

Back when he’d first manifested his power, he and Jothan had tried some experiments. One of them was not sleeping through the whole night to see whether or not the days he spent in the dream would change. Being quite tired, he’d closed his eyes for a second during a game—and had woken up as a baby. After spending a long week inside of his crib, he’d woken up as Demund, only to discover that his hands were still on the controller. He’d slept afterwards, and there had been no dreams at all.

When he’d first tried to circulate, he’d fainted, waking up as Shaden. He’d returned to the waking world shortly after, not breaking the cycle of seven days to one. If these were two different worlds, the flow of time didn’t make sense. Whether he slept one hour or eight, it would always be seven days.

“But letting those delusions take control of you is never a good thing,” the prince continued. “You may commit atrocities. You may see men as insects. You may kill without remorse.”

“I would never,” Shaden said.

“Yes,” Boren said. “A dream removes consequences. So does the position of a god. But act not for fear of consequences, but the sake of goodness.”

“More philosophy?” Shaden grinned. “You know, it could never be a dream because I would never be able to know all of these things. But I’d like to ask you one thing. How do I know that this world is, in fact, real?”

“Real, you ask? I can feel, smell, hear, and see it, and so can you—the world is very real for me. But such things can happen in dreams. But the world is full of life; that is something a dream cannot replicate. More specifically, it is filled with mana.”

“There can’t be mana in dreams?”

“No. Not in normal ones.”

The prince looked at his dragon. “But dreams that do have life are different—they are part of the Spirit Realm, outside of the physical world. Truthfully, these are not dreams. They would be closer to a detachment of spirit and body. Dreams occur within your mind. These do not.”

“What are the chances that this world is that kind of dream?”

“Why, zero. There are no laws of nature within those ‘dreams,’ no solid ground to stand upon, no air to breathe, nor any recognizable structure—unless the spirits will it. And truly, those spirits who create worlds in the Spirit Realm could be called gods.”

Boren turned his head to Shaden. “Or so my dragon says.”

“You talk about gods. Have you ever seen one?”

“Many call the Guardian a god,” Boren said. “Maybe they are right. I have only seen him two times—three if you consider my birth. Have you seen the Guardian, Shaden? Its presence is enough to make you tremble, and its voice is like thunder. Its shadow towers over man, and its wings are great enough to cover the palace.”

“Yes, I’ve seen him once. He placed the blessing on me.”

“Then you would understand. Was the Guardian a god to you?”

A god. It had been mighty, overpowering him completely the first time he’d met it. Even now, despite the limitless mana he had, he would not be able to oppose it—at least alone.

“It seemed like a dragon,” Shaden answered, “but not a god. A god would be more…”

Shaden paused. A god would be more what?

“More unreachable,” Shaden concluded. “The Guardian had a strong presence, but it was still a dragon.”

“There are legends of dragons devouring gods,” the prince said, clearly amused, “but I understand what you mean. A god should be divine. Perfect. And free from death.”

“Free from death.”

“Immortal.”

The prince snorted, but it wasn’t one of disapproval. “You are different, perhaps due to your upbringing. You don’t seem to fear the Guardian—or any other god in that matter.”

“Not really.”

“And you don’t fear death,” the prince said. “Is that right?”

“If I were to truly die, I would fear it,” Shaden answered. “But maybe for me, this is already the afterlife.”

“You speak as if you’ve lived before.”

Shaden smiled, stretching his arms. “No, I’m pretty sure this is the only life I have. Do people believe in reincarnation?”

“You truly are unaware of religious matters,” Boren noticed. “Did your parents not teach you what to believe in?”

Shaden recalled his upbringing. His father, being from Skotos, knew about the existence of a ‘goddess,’ someone who Lytha detested. But he’d only taught him and Rother how to fight and to have common sense, never speaking a word about Skotos—or any other religious topic. His mother had always been busy doing her best for them, cooking food, reading books, and teaching them how to use money and take care of themselves. It was why he’d been assigned the duty of sewing torn clothing during his time with Lytha. But religion?

“Not really. Does Melern have a religion?” Shaden asked.

The prince raised an eyebrow, coughed once, then proceeded to cover his mouth with his hand, looking slightly embarrassed.

“—I don’t want to say it myself,” he sighed.

“Now you’re making me curious. Melern does have a religion?”

Boren looked Shaden in the eye, then scratched his head. “You should be aware that I—as well as my siblings, or any member of my family for that matter—are deeply adored by the people. If I remember correctly, you were apprehended during my sisters’ procession out of the capital.”

“I was.”

“Does that help you remember anything?”

Shaden shook his head. “Please go on.”

The prince sighed again. “The afterlife is a mystery, even now. But many believe that beings such as spirits or dragons hold knowledge of it. That is why we, being bonded to dragons, are treated as if we are divine.”

“The people treat you like gods?”

“Not to the extent of the elven god Naera, or Rahn, whom the desert people believe in. But many see us as divine guides in the afterlife. Our birth and death in itself are considered divine.”

Boren laughed weakly. “Why do you think that even though all of the royal blood but the crown prince perish after the passing of the king, the country remains undisturbed?”

“They—” Shaden began, “you said something about being a guide. Do the people—”

Shaden’s eyes widened with realization. “They believe that you will go there first and serve as guides for them.”

“Yes. That is why they flock to catch a glimpse of us so that we may remember them. So that we may guide them better. They pray to us, praise us, and adore us. That we may protect them after they die from the dangers of the unknown.”

“Oh.”

“What do you think?”

“I’m not sure,” Shaden said. “You seem like…a normal person. I mean, you’re a prince, but you also gamble, enjoy tea time, read books, make jokes, study philosophy, and—”

Shaden eyed the prince. “Fear for your life.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

The prince closed his eyes. “There was a time when I was convinced that I was truly a guide. The power I possess mocks human effort. Everyone born to our blood has silver hair, and such things made me feel divine and special.”

“I wanted to be a good guide,” Boren went on. “I had to know the people. I learned how to disguise myself to blend in with the common populace so that I could learn and see what kind of lives they lived. I grew greedy, I admit. I wanted to see it all. And now that I’ve seen it all—”

Boren snickered. “I don’t want to be a guide anymore. What makes us special anyway? There are other things people can believe in. What should I believe in then? The Guardian?”

Boren patted Markendrath’s head who was looking worryingly at him. “Markendrath is not afraid. He reminds me that I will be protected. But I have my doubts. If the afterlife is as perfect as they say, why is the Guardian still here? If the Guardian has control after death, why can it not summon the souls of the dead? Truthfully, even my sisters have their doubts.”

The wheels continued to clack against the road. The prince became lost in thought for a moment but began to speak again.

“But everyone has a role to play. Believing in something is better than believing in nothing at all. It gives you strength, willpower, and the courage to move forward. Or so my teachers say.”

Shaden carefully opened his mouth. The prince spoke often and was good at it, but this was their heaviest conversation yet. “So—what do you believe in?”

“That’s the problem. I’m trying to decide,” the prince said, “hence this escape. And you?”

“I’m not sure either,” Shaden said.

“Then we are the same.”

Shaden nodded.

⤙ ◯ ⤚

The moment they arrived, their carriage was being swarmed by people.

“Please, your Highness! Just a glance!”

“I beg you to come and bless my dying mother!”

“The prince or princess is here! It’s been so long…”

Despite being inside the carriage, Shaden’s keen ears picked up on everything. The prince had too as he suddenly looked wearier. He smiled weakly, leaning against the side of the carriage. The curtains were drawn to hide him, but the banner of the royal family that the knights carried said enough. Yet, because it wasn’t an official event, it wasn’t as crowded as it had been in the capital, and after going deeper into the city with the occasional shouting of the knights, they arrived at the place reserved for the royal family.

It had taken a very long time for the prince to get settled, so they decided to rest for the day. Shaden had wanted to initiate his plan as soon as possible, but the prince had told him,

“What’s the harm in resting a few more days? Who knows when I will see the outside again.”

So, after entering their old home, they had dinner together at a restaurant. Shaden was pleasantly surprised when the prince joined them, though not in his usual attire but with plain clothes and a change of color in his hair. His parents, recognizing him, got up but were promptly stopped by the prince who said,

“I’ll be in your care.”

His parents were confused by his words; Shaden hadn’t told his family about the plan. He had no need to. If everything went according to his plan, they could enjoy their everyday lives again.

The prince ate at a separate table with the soldiers who had also changed into plain guard clothes, similar to the one Garthan usually wore. He had likely tracked his location through the blessing.

After they had finished eating, Shaden took a walk around the city with the prince. His dragon had transformed into a grey dog, and they walked under the city lamps, enjoying the ambiance of a large yet not-so-crowded city. It was very nostalgic for Shaden, seeing the familiar streets after so long. The air smelled exactly the way he remembered it.

“How will we get there?” the Boren asked. Shaden immediately understood his question.

Sensing around them, he felt two people in the shadows. The Reapers.

“Through a shortcut,” Shaden said. “The question is when. The dessert place is open until the city lights go out.”

“Not after? I enjoy late-night snacking.”

“For a prince, it is open whenever. But I’d like to go together with my family.”

Boren nodded. “How about tomorrow morning?”

Shaden looked at the prince. “I thought you wanted to try out other dishes before dessert.”

“I had thought so too. But I simply cannot wait to try it out. My heart pounds from excitement.”

He clutched his chest. “It’s too much. I have to find out. Will it—be enough?”

Shaden looked into the sky. The stars were bright, even in the presence of the lamps.

“It will be,” he said firmly. “Even if it isn’t, I’ll make it be enough.”

“You know how to bake?”

“A little,” Shaden grinned. “I make the best stone cakes.”

“Stone cakes?”

“You get a flat stone then roast some dough on top of it.”

“Ah. But that isn’t quite dessert.”

“It’s dessert if you add some sweet flowers and herbs to it.”

Their conversation drifted towards something irrelevant, though the prince had made it clear—they were going to leave in the morning. After they finished their short walk, the prince returned to his place and Shaden to his.

Making sure no one was around to listen, he gathered his family and stared them directly in the eyes.

“Tomorrow morning, we are going to Skotos,” he told them.

His father’s expression changed. “This wasn’t a simple trip,” he concluded. “But why? Weren’t you content with your life?”

“I don’t want to be shackled.”

“You will be shackled by Skotos. Raconel—no, Melern is a bigger world.”

“Lytha didn’t think that,” Shaden said. “Dad, whatever Skotos has in store, I can handle it. Look.”

He summoned the shadow inside of him, and it slithered around him like a cloak. Melany shrunk back a little, so he made it smaller into a ball in his hand.

“I know you don’t have this,” he told Garthan who was looking at the shadow without a twitch. “But it isn’t a shackle. This—blessing the Guardian put on me, it’s like a curse. It always restricts me. The shadow only helps me. Skotos isn’t a prison, Dad. It’s a haven. But I know how much you dislike that place.”

“Shaden. You were cursed? I thought—Practol told me that you had earned the King’s favor. Didn’t you earn forgiveness?”

“Forgiveness?”

Shaden smiled. “Maybe. It wasn’t a bad life. But I want to be a little greedy. I want to find my place in the world. And my heart tells me that it’s not under some lizard.”

“Lizard?”

“Please, I only want you to stay safe in Skotos for a week. Maybe less.”

Hopefully not more. That would be tragic.

“Safe? From what?”

“Boren wants me to help him escape to Skotos,” Shaden revealed.

His father’s eyes widened, and his mother placed a hand over her mouth. Melany got up to look for Shidey.

“Prince Boren,” Garthan said. “Escape?”

At that moment, Garthan’s face changed from shock to worry, then to confusion. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner! Don’t you know how much danger you’ve put us in? Stop this nonsense at once! You’re becoming overconfident—

Or that was how Shaden believed the conversation would go. So instead, he remained silent, peacefully combing Melany’s hair and massaging his mother’s shoulders. His father also wanted a foot massage, which he gladly gave.

His father wouldn’t blame him like he’d imagined. He was always reserved and didn’t talk much, didn’t rage at anything. He’d always understood his actions, never demanding more. He had been harsh with Rother during training, but he’d become milder through the years. At this point, he was fully integrated into a stable, calm life, taking care of a lovely daughter with a kind wife.

That was why he didn’t want to worry them. But if he messed up, they would be stuck in Skotos for a while. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad place, just a little dark and cloudy.

Shaden slapped his face. He wouldn’t mess up.

Not as Shaden.

Not with his life on the line.

⤙ ◯ ⤚

Shaden appeared out of nowhere, surprising the prince. He turned to him, thankfully fully dressed in comfortable clothes.

“I’m here to pick you up.”

“Now? They will know that I am gone soon enough.”

“Yes, that’s why we will have to be quick.”

A dragon’s presence wasn’t easily forgotten. While Boren did have the ability to hide his presence, the knights would wonder why he was hiding—and they would investigate. They had at most five minutes. Running would take at least five.

“What’s the smallest form Markendrath can take?”

The dragon proceeded to turn into a white crow.

“Hold onto him tightly.”

Shaden enveloped them in his magic, and within a second, they had jumped out of the door and were soaring right above the buildings to where his family was.

“They’ve already noticed,” Boren said.

“Yes, one of the Reapers was keeping an eye on me. It’s only been a minute, dang.”

“Dang?”

“Er, just a phrase.”

“Well, dang indeed. Is this a problem?”

“Not really.”

His parents and Melany didn’t notice when he opened the window with his magic. But they did notice when he pulled them outside using his magic. Shidey, especially, meowed loudly, trying to escape the invisible force—but Shaden’s grip was firm. He bonded to the old cat, calming her immediately.

“It’ll be alright,” he reassured.

“What’s going on—Shaden?”

His father recognized him first, even before he hid them. Now that they were inside of his magic, they could see him. He brought them closer, and they looked around them wide-eyed, clearly surprised.

“Shaden? What’s going on?” his mother asked. “Are we flying?”

“We’re flying,” Melany mouthed.

“A surprise trip?” Garthan said.

“Yes,” Shaden nodded. “It’s a surprise trip.”

Without another word, they began to speed across the city. Though because Shaden’s mana was surrounding them, the wind didn’t hurt their eyes, though Melany and his mother screamed in delight. He hoped that it was from delight. Shidey was clearly about to faint. But within a minute or two, they were before the black tree at the edge of the city.

Its leaves were gently swaying, unaffected by the wind. It seemed to call out to him, inviting him to place his hand on it.

“We’re stopping now?” the prince asked. “There’s nothing here.”

Shaden glanced at his father. Though he couldn’t see it, he knew what this place was. So did his mother and sister.

“Skotos? Now?”

“Yes. There is a reason for this, Mom, Dad. Please, trust me.”

He slid his fingers downwards across the bark, and it groaned silently, convulsing from its roots. The branches shuddered, stretching apart like a fist being opened. The dark fissure expanded into a gaping hole, revealing a surface like the darkest night, eerily wavering like a still pool touched by a drop of water. Without an ounce of hesitation, he pushed his family through it, then the prince.

“Please, devour it.”

The shadow reacted to his will, bursting out and filling his body. It poured through every nook and cranny, cleaning every muscle and bone. He felt the curse being cleansed, vanishing more quickly than he’d expected. When the shadow retracted, it hadn’t been thirty seconds.

He felt light. He felt strong. He felt free. His mana was his again, and he circulated without restrictions, feeling the long-awaited surge of pure energy that he’d so dearly missed. He laughed out loud.

“They must be waiting,” he muttered to himself. “I can’t let my guard down yet.”

He jumped through. The moment he was out, he closed the portal using his shadow. It seemed to know what he wanted. In mere seconds, the link to Danark was severed.

They were in Skotos now.

“Shaden!” Garthan screamed.

He had never heard his father scream in his life. It was a terrible scream, filled with raw emotion. And pain.

His father was clutching his chest, his eyes bloodshot, veins popping out of his skin. In his hands were his mother and sister. Melany’s body was limp across his father’s arm, and his mother was hugging tightly onto both of them, whimpering and shaking uncontrollably. All of this, he recognized in a second.

“I can’t stop it!” Boren cried! “Shaden—it’s a curse!”

It was raw instinct that drove Shaden to dash to his family and summon his shadow. He covered them in darkness, praying that his shadow would eat the terrible magic that had been placed on his family. When his father’s screaming stopped abruptly, it felt as if his heart dropped a thousand meters.

“It’s gone,” his father breathed with a slight shiver in his voice. “The pain is gone.”

Shaden retracted his shadow, holding his family in his hands. Melany was still unconscious, and his mother was still trembling. He quickly placed his hand on his sister, making sure she was alright—

She was.

Only then did he remember to breathe. “Mom? Are you okay?”

“Y-yes,” she said, raising her head. “The p-pain is gone. Melany? Melany!”

“She’s unconscious but safe,” Shaden reassured, casting healing magic on them simply for comfort and because he could. “Boren, what was that?”

“Torture magic,” the prince shuddered. “The Agony of Severance. When separated from the caster, it inflicts unimaginable pain on the cursed target. It’s used for the worst criminals so that they never leave prison—”

Boren grabbed his head. “I should have been more careful. I should have been more attentive. I—I didn’t think that the King would curse your family. My father—”

“No, not the King,” Shaden growled. “It’s the Guardian. That damned lizard. What about you? Can the Guardian sense you?”

“I am not sure. But Markendrath tells me that his flow of magic has been cut off.”

Shaden hugged his family. His father was still breathing hard. His mother was hugging Melany tightly. All he could say was,

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think that this would happen. I’m so sorry for not checking…”

“Shaden?”

He looked up.

“Grandpa.”

“Why, it’s not time yet. But you are most welcome to stay.” His eyes darkened. “Something terrible has happened. Garthan, who caused you and your wife and child this much pain? It is beyond torture.”

“Father…”

“Yes, I know.”

The masked servants appeared out of the shadows of the trees and gently picked up Melany and Melsei. Garthan got up by himself, though when his legs buckled, his father caught him.

“And you, Shaden? Are you fine?”

“Yes,” Shaden answered. “Grandfather, I have a request.”

“And I will grant it.”

“This man is also cursed in a way,” he said, turning to the prince. “Can you hide him until I return?”

“Of course. He is hidden by merely being here.”

“Can a dragon find this place?”

His grandfather smiled. “My grandson—no one has ever entered Skotos from the outside. Not even a dragon.”

Shaden let out a sigh of relief, but rage immediately began to fill his heart, bubbling up uncontrollably inside him. He gripped his fists to the point blood began to come out, which he healed immediately. His teeth ground against each other. When he began to circulate, his rage seemed to subside, but he focused it, amplified it, exploded it—until the power surging within felt like raw emotion circulating throughout his body.

“Shaden.” His grandfather’s eyes did not leave him.

“Which is the shortest way to Raconel?”

“What you are thinking of doing is—”

“Please.”

His grandfather stretched out his hand, and a nearby tree groaned, opening broadly.

“Killing a king is something that will cause chaos,” he warned.

“I’m not going to kill a king,” Shaden said, going towards the portal.

“A puppet is not a king.”

Shaden didn’t stop. He entered the portal without hesitation, and it closed behind him, leaving only his grandfather and the prince in the garden of black trees with white leaves.

“He will die,” the prince said, putting his hands on his face. “The Guardian will kill him.”

Granor’s eyes were still on the spot where his grandson had vanished. It was an old tradition to never watch over the heir’s progress lest his heart grew weak and yeared to help his grandson. Growth was most potent when done outside of the familiar.

And how he had grown.

How effortlessly his grandson had commanded the shadow. How easily he had summoned it. He had already learned how to consume magic with it without being taught. If only he had arrived quickly enough to have seen it with his own eyes.

“He will be fine,” Granor said. “What is your name?”

“Boren. Boren Selios.”

“Hmm. You have quite an interesting pet. Do not worry. My grandson’s requests are very dear to me.”

“I—thank you for your hospitality.”

Meanwhile, Shaden emerged right where the city was in view. After closing his eyes and focusing, he located the tracker he placed on the king and rocketed into the sky. It was like the first time he’d flown there—except this time, he wasn’t trying to hide.

He’d forgotten to give his grandfather the Library Card. He’d rushed here out of emotion. But emotion was all that was in his mind now.

Pure, raw hate.

“Come out from your lair,” he snarled, “if you don’t want your city to die.”

The white clouds above deepened into grey, then black, and the blue skies began to rumble over the capital city of Raconel.