The sun was gentle that morning. No clouds, no winds. Just warmth — the kind that made stone buildings shine a little softer and people's faces a little calmer.
After weeks of silence, panic, and rumors, Lumisgrave was quiet for a different reason now:
It was waiting.
From rooftops and alleys, across balconies and crowded squares, people gathered around the Grand Plaza, where a new voice had promised to speak. Not just a voice of command — but one of understanding.
Among the thousands standing shoulder to shoulder, a boy stood in the crowd — dirt still fresh on his boots, his hands tucked in his worn tunic.
Arslan.
He wasn't royalty. He wasn't famous. Just a farmhand who had once chased birds from wheat fields.
But now... even he had changed.
And today, like everyone else, he came to listen.
---
The King Appears
The palace balcony was high above the plaza, carved from ancient white stone. When the wind shifted and the royal flag waved, the sea of people fell into silence.
And then—
The doors opened.
King Farhan stepped forward, calm but solemn. No trumpets. No guards in front of him. Just a father… a man… a leader who had finally decided to face what was happening not just to his kingdom — but to himself.
He raised one hand.
The entire crowd — thousands — went still.
Then the King spoke.
> "My people… for weeks, you have lived in a storm of uncertainty."
"You have seen power bloom around you — strange, unpredictable, sometimes frightening."
"And the question on every lip has been the same: What do we do now?"
Arslan shifted slightly, breathing quietly, his eyes locked on the balcony.
---
The Reveal
King Farhan slowly pulled back his sleeve. The crowd leaned in.
A ripple of energy shimmered over his skin — and then metal. Chains. Not broken or bound, but flowing like liquid steel across his arm.
Gasps swept through the crowd.
> "This came to me," the King said. "Not by choice. But it changed me. And I chose to understand it."
He let the transformation fade. The metal melted back into flesh. His hand, once otherworldly, now looked like any man's hand again.
> "This power, like yours, did not come with instruction." "It came with purpose."
---
Arslan watched silently, thoughts racing.
He slowly opened his right hand — just a little.
The black tint on his skin had faded overnight, but he still remembered it. The weight. The glow. That whisper.
"Summon shadow blades..."
He didn't know what it meant. He still didn't want to believe it. But now — seeing even the King awaken — the fear inside him was turning into something else.
> "Even the King…" Arslan whispered to himself. "Even he changed."
He looked around at others nearby.
One woman had faint, glowing patterns down her neck. A miner held his hands too still, hiding something. A young boy next to him kept playing with sparks flicking from his fingers.
"Everyone… is becoming something," Arslan thought.
---
Then came the boy.
Prince Kabir. Barefoot. No armor. No crown.
Just courage in a quiet form.
He raised his hand toward a torch.
Blue lightning flickered — not wild, not violent — just focused. It struck the torch, lighting it instantly.
The flames danced.
The crowd didn't erupt.
They simply watched. In awe. And for the first time — they understood:
This wasn't just power. It was discipline. It was control.
---
> "You have awakened not to destroy the world — but to shape it."
"Each of you must now listen to what flows within you."
"Find it. Face it. Learn it."
The words struck Arslan like a bell inside his chest.
He looked down at his hands again.
He remembered the fear in the field, the way the shadow blade had pulsed into life.
He hadn't tried again since.
He'd been afraid. Of himself.
But now… maybe he didn't need to run from it.
> "If a prince can stand with lightning," he muttered, "maybe I can learn the shadows…"
He didn't feel like a hero. Or a warrior. Just… someone with a power he didn't ask for.
But now, maybe, it was time to stop hiding.
---
As the King's final words echoed:
> "We will not hide our gifted. We will guide them."
People raised their hands — not to protest, but to show unity.
Some had glowing palms. Some had no change at all.
But all held something more important than power: hope.
> "We can learn…" "I want to try…" "So can I…"
And in that moment, for the first time since the Gates rose, Arslan no longer felt alone.
He was still scared.
But now… he had a reason to face it.
And the whisper that had once chilled him now felt less like a curse — and more like a calling.