The courtyard was a silent.
Dust still drifted in the air, faintly. The earth where Amari stood was blackened, scorched by lightning and blood, yet he barely felt the pain that had torn through his body. His leg had been stabbed, his skin carved by black lines. He should feel pain but his veins hummed with power, and the wounds were already sealing, flesh knitting together with unnatural speed.
Around him, no one spoke. Not the halflings, nor the guards, nor Grislen. Amari's breathing slowed, eyes still faintly glowing that impossible shade of blue.
Then he heard it.
A whisper not from the crowd, not from the wind.
Born to die, black blood.
He froze, eyes wide as saucers . The voice was faint, echoing from a place older than memory. No one heard, just him. The others only stared, terrified or in awe. The whisper wasn't for them. It was for him.
We're watching
And it chilled him more than the pain ever could.
Grislen's voice broke through the haze, rough and sharp.
"Enough gawking ."
Amari lifted his gaze. The commander's tone was steady, but his eyes were not there was something behind them, pure hate and fear. Grislen had faced many monsters before, but the look he gave Amari was the same one a man gives a loaded weapon that has turned in his hand.
"Dismissed!," Grislen barked to the others. The halflings scattered instantly, some tripping over each other in their haste to flee the ring. Within moments, the courtyard was empty, Amari still stood staring at the ground.
The silence that followed was heavier than any roar of battle.
Grislen un-sheathed his sword with a sharp click and stalked toward Amari. The gravel crunched under his boots.
"You just can't help yourself, can you?" His voice was low, edged with venom. "Always showing off. Always reminding everyone who you are,you think your strong huh, you don't even know what you are."
Amari didn't answer. He stood motionless, head tilted slightly,
"What I am?" Amari said finally, his tone flat. "You mean alive?"
Grislen's jaw tightened. "I mean dangerous." He circled him like a wolf would its prey. "First day you arrived, you attacked me in front of the gate. Now this? You think surviving makes you special, you think you're more powerful ?"
"I didn't survive because I wanted to show off " Amari said. His voice calm and quiet, almost soft but there was something in it that made Grislen pause. "I survived because I couldn't die, I can't, I have no choice ."
Grislen's nostrils flared. "You think that's something to be proud of? You call that a gift?" Pointing at the ground where he fought
He stepped closer, close enough that Amari could feel his breath. "Your disobedient, You're a curse, boy. A witch's experiment that refuses to die."
Amari's eyes flicked to his. Cold. Blue. Dangerous.
"Say that again." He glared at him
Grislen's lips curled. "I said you're a—"
Lightning struck between them before the word could leave his tongue. It snapped in the air, sharp enough to make Grislen flinch back.
Amari's voice cold and sharp as ice. "Careful, commander."
The tension crackled, visible and raw. Grislen's hand twitched on his sword, but he stopped himself. He could see it the flicker of something else moving in Amari's eyes, something alive and waiting.
"You don't belong here," Grislen muttered. "The king might have taken interest in you, but don't mistake that for mercy. He sheathed his sword."
Amari scoffed looking past him, toward the balcony where Devon had stood hours ago. "Mercy isn't something he practices."
Grislen sneered. "And yet you live."
Amari's expression didn't change. "For now."
He turned and started walking away, ignoring Grislen's parting words that followed like a blade in the back.
"You'll burn us all before this ends and I promise to kill you before that"
The palace halls were quiet when Amari entered. The scent of blood clung to him like smoke. He could feel it the gazes that followed him from the shadows, the whispers behind closed doors. The king's pet, they called him. The blue-haired halfling . The creature who should have died but didn't.
He reached his chamber, pushed the door open, and leaned against it once it closed behind him. The world finally went still.
He looked down at his hands. The skin was pale again, smooth, unmarked as if nothing had happened but beneath the surface, he could feel it. The pulse of that same old magic thrumming through his veins. The words he'd heard still echoed in his mind.
Born to die, black blood.
His breath hitched. He didn't understand what it meant, but the sound of it, the words felt like a key turning inside him, unlocking something dark and unfamiliar.
He dragged a hand through his hair, trying to steady himself.
"It's just noise," he muttered under his breath. "Just a bad memory, kill the noise and you kill the voice."
But memory didn't crawl under your skin. It didn't make your blood ache like this.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the faint light spilling through the window. His reflection in the mirror across the room didn't match the man he felt inside. His eyes looked calmer, his body unbroken but the boy from that cave, the one who had screamed and begged for the pain to stop, still lived behind them, Scared, torn, broken.
He heard it soft footsteps outside his door. Not the guards or maids. The steps ere deliberate, quiet but heavy with authority.
He didn't need to look to know who it was.
The door opened.
Devon entered without a word, his presence filling the room like a shadow that didn't belong to the light. He didn't speak at first. His gaze trailed over Amari, they was no wounds, the ink-like marks vanished. A slow, satisfied smile crossed the king's face.
"So you do heal faster than they said, delightful ," Devon said .
Amari didn't rise. "Did you come to test it yourself?"
Devon stepped closer, his boots silent on the marble. "You don't know what you are yet, do you?"
Amari's jaw tightened. "A monster, apparently."
Devon smiled faintly. "No. A storm in human skin. And storms don't ask or need permission to exist."
Amari finally looked up at him. "Then why cage one?"
Devon studied him for a long moment, then turned toward the window. "Because I'd rather the storm destroy my enemies than my kingdom. I've been waiting for you Amari."
His eyes glistened red beneath the dim light. "Rest, Amari. You'll need it. Tomorrow, we'll see what you truly are capable of when you're not holding back."
The king left, his cloak sweeping behind him like smoke.
Amari sat in silence long after the door closed. The faint hum of power in his blood wouldn't fade. He pressed a hand to his chest, where his heart beated too fast, too hard.
He didn't know if it was fear, or something far worse.
He closed his eyes. Falling in his bed, eyes drawn shut as exhaustion kicked in.
Born to die, black blood.
The whisper returned this time quieter, sadder.
And somewhere deep inside him, something answered.