He stood still, his regal form towering with grace and menace, but behind his eyes a storm raged. He did not speak, not yet, but he probed—deep into the unseen lines of fate, brushing against strands of memory that had no place in this reality.
A memory out of time.
A bead of energy.
A soul moving through a moment it should not have reached.
Yes... yes, he could feel it. A disturbance. A change that wasn't supposed to be. One of the threads had been pulled and re-woven.
His expression didn't falter, but deep within, the ancient king seethed. There was a hand at play other than his own.
The king tilted his head slowly, watching Liam. Still loyal. Still noble. Still ready to die. He hadn't noticed the shift. That was good.
But what had changed? What seed had been planted?
He reached inward, scanning the spirit lines around Liam. There, he sensed it. A flicker of foreign energy. Faint. So faint that it barely registered. But it was there. Nestled near the boy's heart.
