The sky over Ravencrest Palace groaned with thunder as if it sensed something terrible was about to happen. Dark clouds gathered like angry spirits, swirling around the high black towers. Inside the throne room, shadows danced along the cold stone walls, lit by tall torches that flickered in the storm's wind.
The throne room was massive and cold, carved from dark stone and silver veins. The air smelled of smoke and magic.
At the far end stood a tall, cruel-looking man in a long, flowing black cloak. His silver crown sat proudly on his head, and his blood-red eyes glowed with rage and pride.
He was King Theron Ravencrest, ruler of the Ravencrest Clan—a man feared in every corner of the continent. His presence alone made the room feel colder.
Before him, on her knees, was a broken woman in a torn white dress—Elysia. Her golden hair fell in messy waves, stained with tears and blood. Her once-bright blue eyes looked up, calm despite the pain.
"You were never meant to be queen," Theron snarled, his voice like a blade scraping metal.
Elysia's voice trembled, but it was still gentle. "I never wished to be. I was only a maid… forced to marry you to protect my mistress, Princess Lysira."
Theron's hands tightened into fists. Black smoke coiled around his arms as his magic flared.
"I was promised Lysira—the most powerful sorceress of Nightfire Glen. But her father tricked me and sent you instead—a powerless servant."
"I gave you a son," Elysia whispered. "And I kept your secrets for twelve years."
Theron turned his gaze to a boy standing silently behind the pillars—Kalen Ravencrest, their only child.
He was eleven, thin and quiet, with unruly brown hair and soft green eyes. Unlike other royal children, he didn't carry himself with pride or strength. His small hands were clenched at his sides, trembling as he watched the cruel scene unfolding before him.
Theron's lip curled in disgust. "That boy is a disgrace. No powers. No strength. Just like his mother. He is nothing."
From the shadows, another figure stepped forward. He was tall, dressed in black armor that shimmered with silver runes. Half of his face was covered with a steel mask. This was Soren Draegor, Theron's most trusted advisor.
"Your Majesty," Soren said calmly, "if you kill Elysia, you'll lose half your magic. The ancient pact of blood and magic still binds you to her."
"I don't care," Theron growled. "No one can stop me now. I've already killed the royal family of Calestra—King Alarion, Queen Lysira, their crowned prince, and her unborn child."
Kalen gasped silently. His mother's friend—Princess Lysira—was dead?
"The prophecy that said I would be destroyed by their child is broken," Theron continued. "And now, with her death, nothing stands in my way."
With a snap of his fingers, a box floated into the air beside him. It opened slowly, revealing two glowing stones—one blue, one green.
Theron lifted them high.
"The Blue Stone, passed down through generations of the Ravencrest line," he said proudly.
He raised the second one. "And the Green Stone, taken from the corpse of Lysira Valestra."
Soren's eyes gleamed. "Together, they open the Grand Magical Book—a source of unlimited power."
From the corner, young Kalen watched carefully. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. As he saw the stones, his hand moved to his pocket, feeling the weight of something cool and smooth.
A blue pendant—quietly glowing.
Then, a soft voice echoed inside his head.
"Kalen, don't react."
His eyes widened. It was his mother's voice, speaking through telepathy—something only soul-bonded mages could do.
"The blue stone he holds is fake. You carry the real one. Do not let them see it."
Kalen's lip trembled, but he nodded ever so slightly.
"Don't show your powers," she whispered. "You must be silent. If you act now, my twelve years of sacrifice will mean nothing. Do you understand?"
Tears blurred his vision, but he swallowed his pain.
Theron raised his hands, dark energy coiling around his fingers like serpents. "Your death will only weaken me for a short time, Elysia. Once I unlock the Book, my power will be reborn—greater than ever."
Elysia looked up at her son one last time.
"I love you, Kalen," she said aloud. "Live."
With a thunderous roar, Theron unleashed the killing spell. A blast of black fire shot from his hands and struck her heart.
There was a flash of red.
A gasp.
And then, she was gone.
Her body crumpled to the floor like a broken doll, her face calm even in death.
Kalen stared at her in silence. He didn't cry out, didn't run. He just let the tears fall silently as her last words echoed in his mind.
Theron turned away from the corpse, breathing heavily but smiling.
"It is done," he said.
Soren stepped forward. "Now what, Your Majesty?"
Theron held the two glowing stones high. "Now… I begin the search for the Grand Magical Book. With it, I will regain what I've lost and become unstoppable."
Soren hesitated. "What about the boy?"
Theron looked at Kalen for a long moment. "He's worthless. But he's still my blood."
He waved a hand.
"Throw him out of the palace. I never want to see him again."
Two guards moved forward, seizing Kalen by the arms. He didn't struggle. He only looked once more at his mother's lifeless form, the room blurring through his tears.
The grand iron doors opened with a groan. Rain poured down outside, the storm now in full rage. Lightning flashed behind him as the guards shoved Kalen out into the mud.
The doors slammed shut behind him.
Inside his coat, the real Blue Stone glowed softly, pulsing with hidden magic.
And in the silence, as thunder roared above him, Kalen whispered, "I promise, Mother… I'll live."