Moonlight spilled through the tall windows of Arathia's royal palace, washing the marble floors in silver.
Adrian sat upright in bed, eyes open, sleep long gone. The night air was quiet—too quiet. His heart hadn't stopped racing since that dream.
He lifted his right hand.
There it was again.
A faintly glowing mark on the back of his hand—a rune of half a sun and half a moon, interlocked as though bound by light and shadow. It pulsed softly, almost alive.
He brushed his thumb across it, but it didn't fade. "What… are you?" he whispered to himself.
A soft movement caught his attention. Rex, his lion cub, stirred from his spot at the foot of the bed. The small creature blinked its golden eyes, stood, and padded closer. Its tail brushed Adrian's knee as if sensing his unease.
Adrian smiled faintly. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?"
The cub tilted its head but said nothing, only let out a quiet rumbling sound before sitting by his side.
Adrian ran a hand through its soft fur, comforted. "Maybe a walk will help."
He slipped on his cloak, tucked the faintly glowing hand into his sleeve, and crept toward the door. The palace guards would scold him if they caught him wandering at this hour again—but that had never stopped him before.
The corridor stretched long and empty, his footsteps barely making a sound. Rex followed close, claws soft against the carpet.
The library wasn't far.
The Royal Library was a kingdom of silence. Its air carried the scent of dust, candle wax, and time itself. Towering shelves loomed over Adrian, stacked with books bound in leather and gold.
He lifted his lamp higher, scanning the titles.
Runic Magic of the First Era.
Secrets of the Ancient Sun Priests.
Moonlight and the Forgotten Gods.
None of them matched the mark on his hand.
Adrian sat down at one of the reading tables, resting his chin on his palm. Rex climbed onto the chair beside him and curled up quietly.
The flickering light of the lamp reflected in the cub's golden eyes. Adrian reached out, tracing the rune on his hand again. "Why does it feel… familiar?"
He didn't notice someone standing at the far end of the room until a soft voice spoke.
"Still awake, Your Highness?"
Adrian flinched, almost knocking over his lamp. He turned sharply—only to see a tall man emerging from between the shelves, holding a stack of books. His gray-streaked hair and calm, observant eyes were unmistakable.
"Professor Alden?" Adrian blinked. "I—I didn't expect you to be here."
The man smiled faintly. "The same could be said of you, Prince Adrian. Though I recall this isn't the first time you've snuck into the library after midnight."
Adrian rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Old habit."
Alden's gaze softened. "You remind me of that boy I met years ago. The one who introduced himself as Aiden."
Adrian looked surprised. "You… still remember that?"
"How could I forget?" Alden set down the books and adjusted his spectacles. "He was quite the curious one. Always asking about rune circuits and mana flow. Never told me he was the prince of Arathia."
A faint smile tugged at Adrian's lips. "I guess I wasn't very good at lying."
"You were, actually," Alden chuckled. "Until you started asking questions no normal child would ask."
Flashback
The sound of rain.
The busy streets of the capital.
A smaller version of Adrian—hood pulled up, cheeks red from the cold—wandered through a narrow alley lined with shops. His eyes had caught something unusual: a flickering blue light through a cracked door.
Inside, an older man with wild silver hair tinkered with a set of metal wings attached to a crystal core. Sparks flew as he adjusted the gears.
"What are you doing?" the boy had asked.
The man turned sharply. "Who—? …Oh, just a kid."
Adrian stepped closer. "That's a mana converter, right? You're trying to stabilize the core flow so it won't collapse under overload."
Alden's eyes widened. "You know that?"
The boy nodded eagerly. "I read about it in a book. But they said it's impossible without a dual-channel stabilizer."
"Exactly," Alden said slowly. Then, after a pause, he grinned. "Well, looks like you're not an ordinary kid. What's your name?"
"…Aiden," the boy replied quickly.
From that day on, "Aiden" visited whenever he could. He'd help sort parts, read runic charts, and ask questions that made Alden laugh and shake his head.
"You'll make a great scholar someday," Alden had said once. "Or a terrible one—depending on how much you ignore sleep."
Adrian had grinned. "You too, Professor."
The memory faded like mist, and Adrian found himself back in the quiet library.
Alden stood nearby, studying him with a knowing expression. "You haven't changed much."
Adrian gave a faint laugh. "I'd like to think I have."
"Perhaps," Alden said. "But something tells me you're troubled tonight."
Adrian hesitated, then slowly pulled back his sleeve, revealing the glowing rune on his hand. "Do you know what this is?"
Alden leaned closer, eyes narrowing. The light reflected off his glasses. "That… symbol. I've only seen something like it once, years ago."
Adrian's pulse quickened. "Where?"
"In an ancient record—an unfinished one. The scholars of old called it the Seal of Dawn and Dusk."
"What does it mean?"
Alden frowned slightly. "No one truly knows. The document ended before it could be translated fully. It might represent balance—or a bond between opposites. But…"
He trailed off, a shadow passing over his face.
"But what?"
Alden looked at him seriously. "Every account that mentioned it ended abruptly. As if the writers never finished their work."
Adrian's fingers tightened on the edge of the table. "You mean… they disappeared?"
Alden nodded once. "That's what the archives say."
Silence filled the space between them. Only the faint sound of Rex's breathing and the distant whisper of the night wind remained.
Finally, Adrian spoke softly. "Then let's find out the truth."
The professor smiled faintly, the kind that held both pride and concern. "You never could ignore a mystery, could you?"
Adrian grinned. "Would you, if you had this burned into your hand?"
Alden chuckled quietly. "Fair point."
They spent hours combing through ancient texts.
Symbols of the Twin Deities.
Chronicles of the Lost Moon.
Runes of the Forgotten Kings.
But page after page offered nothing new.
The lamp burned lower. The air grew heavier.
At last, Adrian closed another book with a soft thud and exhaled. "Nothing…"
Alden rubbed his temples. "It may not be in these halls at all. Some truths, Your Highness, refuse to be written."
Adrian looked down at Rex, who had fallen asleep by his foot. The cub's breathing was slow and steady, its fur faintly shimmering under the rune's glow.
He smiled tiredly. "Then maybe… we'll just have to find it ourselves."
Alden's gaze softened. "That's what I expected you'd say."
As Adrian stood to leave, Alden placed a hand on his shoulder. "You remind me of your father, Your Highness. But I think you'll surpass him—because you chase knowledge not for power, but understanding."
Adrian hesitated, eyes widening slightly before looking away. "You give too many compliments, Professor."
"Then I'll stop—if you start sleeping properly."
Adrian laughed softly. "No promises."
When he returned to his room, the first light of dawn crept over the horizon. He lay back in bed, Rex curling beside him.
The rune on his hand pulsed once, faintly glowing gold, as if responding to his thoughts.
"Seal of Dawn and Dusk…" he murmured. "What are you trying to tell me?"
Outside, the world stirred awake, but inside, a quiet resolve began to grow within him—
The mark wasn't just a mystery.
It was a message.
And he would find out what it meant.