"All of this… for a single man?." A courtier's whisper drifted down the marble halls of the Empire Castle. The grand throne room–usually filled with pomp–was now silent, heavy with the weight of something far more dangerous than they could ever imagine.The newer courtiers and freshly appointed soldiers exchanged uncertain glances. They had only heard of this man in stories–tales whispered behind closed doors, always ending with caution, or fear. But the older ones, those who had fought beside him or praised his victories–They didn't fear him. They despised him. Their eyes once filled with admiration now brimmed with cold, unspoked hatred. As if just the sight of him dug up a wound they wished had stayed buried but instead there was hatred in their eyes for Renart like he had committed the most horrendous crime anyone could commit. "Is it true..?" another voice asked.
"That he is the one who killed the last king….?"
A silence followed.
Not one of disbelief–But of dread.
And at the center of that silence stood Renart, bound in mana-forged chains. His head was bowed, not in defeat, but in stillness like the eye of a hurricane. The cuffs at his wrists pulsed with light, groaning with containment spells meant to hold monsters.
And yet, he stood there as if they weighed nothing.
As if he was merely… waiting.
And then---
Cut to Sofiana, watching from the shadows of the palace wall using an illusion spell. Sofiana in disbelief why would the royal guard chained down Renart the very man who had bled for this kingdom?
The Sword master who had defended its borders… protected its people… risked his life for their peace? Her fingers curled into fists beneath her cloak.
If Renart wanted to he could have snapped those chains like thread and flew from there but it seems he has willingly let himself be captured. I should wait and watch for the time being.
They sounded the trumpets.
The sharp blare echoed through the throne room like a blade being drawn. Sofiana flinched in the shadows. The atmosphere shifted. Every head turned toward the grand arched doorway at the far end of the hall.
The door creaks.
And the King entered.
He didn't stride in the pomp or flourish. He didn't wear jewels nor was he surrounded by soldiers, jesters or banners. His presence demanded absolute silence. He was younger, perhaps in his forties. He walked slowly step by step, passed Renart and he stood at the top of the marble dais before his throne. There he was the one who stood at the pinnacle of the kingdom not just in position but also in power; he was the strongest Archmage in the entire continent's history.
Then, he spoke
"Renart."
The name echoed. No title, No honor, Just the name.
Renart raised his head. His eyes met the King's. Calm, Steady. Like a storm that had not yet begun.
The court held its breath.
"You stand before the throne you once protected," the king said, voice low but commanding. "Bound, because your loyalty has long since been in question."
Sofiana's nails dug into her palms.
"What loyalty? What betrayal? Renart was the most loyal to the Royal family."
The king continued.
"Tell me, Renart--do you remember the blood on your hands? Or has time granted you the luxury of forgetting your sins?"
A murmur stirred through the hall.
And still, Renart said nothing.
Not a word.
Not a plea.
Not a denial.
He simply… stared.
Like a man who had already said goodbye to everything that mattered.
"Have you forgotten the blood of my older brother?."
"Our previous King."
"Your childhood friend."
"The man you swore to protect..."
Renart fingers curled into fist.
"...and the man you murdered."
"Tell me Renart, Do you deny this charge?."
In the shadows outside, Sofiana's heart slammed against her ribs.
"This can't be….."
"This…is not who Renart is, He would never hurt Regal. They were brothers in all but blood. Renart tried him like a younger sibling–-protected him, laughed with him, bled for him.. "
Tears welled up, but she forced them back.
"This is a lie." "They are trying to frame him. I must act quick."
The king offered Renart a choice.
"Renart swear your loyalty to me–here and now–and I will forgive you. And appoint you as my trusted confidant."
The words struck the throne room like a thunderclap. A wave of murmurs surged through the hall. Shock turned to outrage.
"He murdered the last king…"
"He's a traitor."
"This is treason -- Your majesty, you can't!"
The older knights -- those who had once served under Renart — stepped forward, fury in their eyes. Some gripped their blades. Others looked like they might draw them.
"You would make him your right hand?" one of them spat. "After he put a sword through your brother's heart?"
But the King didn't flinch. The king raised his hand and said "SILENCE….."
DADUN DADUN DADUN
A cold wave of dread swept across the throne room. Every soldier, every courtier, every noble -- froze.
They all knew what that sound meant.
Even breathing too loudly now could mean death.
The air hung thick and sharp like a blade at the throat.
The King stepped forward from his throne, descending one polished stair.
His cloak trailed like shadowed fire behind him.
He looked at Renart -- still bound in chains, still calm, still unreadable.
"Tell me, Renart…"
His voice was quiet now. Quieter than before.
And somehow, infinitely more dangerous.
"What is your answer?"
"I Refuse…!"
His head finally lifted. And in his eyes–there was no fear. No regret. Only disgust.
A deep, soul-cutting contempt that made the king's smile falter for a fraction of a second.
"I will never bow to a snake wearing my friend's crown."
The words struck like lightning.
Renart's fists clenched. The mana-forged cuffs around his wrists hissed in protest, glowing brighter with each heartbeat.
He remembered it now.
The same aura.
The same foul presence that lingered the day Regal died.
And the same energy that had once pulsed through Ashar's poisoned body.
His eyes narrowed.
"It was you… wasn't it?" he said.
"You killed Regal… and you tried to kill my son."
Renart broke the chains.
Sofiana from the side watching all this she knew this was the time to act. She lifted her illusion spell and made a blast in the palace wall to take Renart and flee from there. She knew she couldn't fight against the king and win. Renart had already engaged himself in a fierce battle with the King and his elite soldiers.
Cut to Ashar.
In that old shack. Ashar was done reading the book. He felt uneasiness and stood up.
"Mother?"
No response.
Ashar tried calling again but this time a bit louder.
"Father?"
Still nothing. His brow furrowed. That wasn't right. Not even a single time in the last ten years had his mother left without telling him anything. And his father–He had promised to return with a gift for Ashar. But now, even the faintest trace of their presence was gone.
He stepped outside, the cool forest breeze brushing past his skin. Their little haven, usually filled with birdsong and whispers of magic in the wind, felt hollow. Still. As if something had been cut away.
Something was wrong.
Ashar closed his eyes and took a deep breath, remembering what Sofiana had taught him.
"Every mage leaves behind a trace. You just have to feel for it – like following a candle in the dark."
He reached out with his senses focusing all his mana on detecting the traces left behind by his mother
At first nothing. And then. A thread. Faint like a strand of hair trailing through the forest. Ashar could tell by the feel, that this mana belonged to his mother,
Ashar's eyes snapped open. Without a second thought, he sprinted.
Branches whipped past him, roots clawed at his boots, but he didn't slow down. He followed the strand like a lifeline, racing through the forest until the trees thinned and the world opened up.
And then...he saw it.
The Imperial Palace.
It rose like a mountain of stone and arrogance, far grander than anything he had ever imagined. Soldiers lined the towering walls, nobles' carriages glinted under the morning sun, and people–so many people–moved like rivers through the capital streets.
It was the first time Ashar had seen anyone other than his mother and father.
But wonder had no place in his heart now.
All he saw was the strand–his mother's magic–leading straight through the gates of the Empire.
Ashar ducked behind a stone pillar near the outer wall, eyes scanning the guards.
Too many. Too well-armed.
He couldn't fight his way through. He didn't even have a sword.
"Think, Ashar. Think–"
And then–
BOOM.
A thunderous explosion ripped through the palace grounds. The ground trembled. Shouts rang through the air as a wave of guards poured from the gates, abandoning their posts to investigate.
Ashar's heart skipped.
"Mother...…"
It was her.
That blast–he knew it was hers. It had to be.
Without hesitation, he leapt from cover and dashed through the now-unprotected gate. No one saw him–no one could, not in the chaos.
The mana strand pulsed stronger now.
He gritted his teeth, pushed forward.
Cut to Sofiana and Renart.
The throne room was in chaos.
Renart stood like a storm given form, his blade flashing with deadly grace as elite soldiers poured in wave after wave. Bodies lay scattered across the marble floor–some groaning, others still. And yet, the king sat unshaken on his throne, fingers tightening around the gilded armrests as if daring the world to challenge him.
Sofiana was no longer hiding.
Her illusion had fallen, her robes torn, strands of her silver-blonde hair loose around her face. Arcane light shimmered at her fingertips as she hurled spell after spell, fighting back-to-back with the man she loved.
And then the king rose.
His voice was thunder.
"So, the traitor queen returns."
His eyes burned with venom. He stepped forward, his power radiating through the chamber like heat from a forge.
"You could've been mine, Sofiana. You were meant to be mine."
His gaze flicked to Renart, full of hate.
"And instead you gave yourself to a peasant. A swordsman with no bloodline, no title, no right!"
Renart narrowed his eyes, blood dripping from a cut along his jaw. He raised his blade without a word.
Sofiana's voice cut through the tension like ice.
"I chose him because he had something you'll never understand."
"Honor. Love. A soul worth fighting beside."
The king's expression twisted with rage.
"Then die beside him."
He raised his hand–and the room exploded into light as a torrent of dark, crackling mana burst forth.
Sofiana raised a barrier just in time. The force shattered nearby pillars, sending debris raining down. She winced, stumbling backward, but Renart surged forward, slicing through the black magic with a defiant roar.
"You'll never touch her again," Renart growled.
He lunged forward--his blade aimed straight for the King's throat.
But before steel could meet flesh--
CLANG!
A massive force collided with Renart's sword. Sparks flew.
A towering figure stepped into view, matching Renart's height, his armor dark and gleaming like obsidian. The stranger wielded a blade so massive it matched his height the sword looked like it could split mountains–and he moved with unnatural speed for someone so large.
THOOM!
With a single, brutal swing, he knocked Renart through the shattered palace wall.
Sofiana screamed, "RENART!"
The Sword master's body sailed through the air, smashing through a column and crashing into the earth with bone-jarring force.
Outside the Palace...
Ashar had just slipped past the inner courtyard when the wall above him exploded.
CRACK!
Dust and debris rained down. His eyes widened, then froze.
There--at the center of a shattered crater--laid Renart.
Bleeding.
Barely conscious.
Ashar stood paralyzed, staring.
"Father...?"
Sofiana tries to hold the king's magic but he was too strong to be stopped by her. The kings snarled. "If I can't have you. I will destroy you." and unleashes, A barrage of spells shot toward her, dozens in every direction, elemental spears, flaming discs, mana spikes that twisted like serpents.
Sofiana blocked two, dodged a third but the fourth hit her square in the chest.
"Ughhh–!" she screamed as her body was flung like a ragdoll through the air–
through the palace wall
and into the open sky.
"What a waste. I could have made good use of you both. I am going into my chamber. You go and bring me both of their heads."
Ashar looked up
Too late.
She came crashing down beside him, skidding across the dirt, her cloak burning at the edges, blood trailing behind her.
"MOTHER!!"
Ashar dropped beside her, tears already blurring his vision.
Her lips trembled, blood pooling at their edge. "A-Ashar… you're not supposed to… be here…"
"No. No, no, no--" He placed his hand on her cheek. "You're okay. You're okay! Please–!"
But her eyes flicked to Renart, still lying broken just feet away.
And then–to the shadow that stepped from the palace behind them. The armored giant–the same warrior who had hurled Renart through the palace wall–descended in a single, earth‑shaking leap. His black blade gleamed crimson in the dawn light.
Ashar's breath caught.
Flash.
Mother's laughter as she braided his hair.
Father's voice guiding his first sword stroke.
The little shack that finally felt like home.
"I can't lose them."
Tears blurred his vision, but rage burned clearer than ever. He rose, fists clenched, mana flaring–raw, uncontrolled, but fierce.
The giant regarded him in silence, almost… curious.
Ashar took the sword from his father's hand and charged….
A child against a titan.
He ducked beneath the first swing, lashed out with a mana‑coated palm, denting the giant's breastplate. Sparks flared. The warrior stepped back–surprised, perhaps impressed–then responded with a brutal backhand that sent Ashar tumbling.
Blood filled Ashar's mouth, yet he staggered up again, eyes ablaze.
A second strike.
A third.
Each blow cracked ribs, bruised flesh, split skin--but the boy refused to stay down.
Ashar's body trembled, arms shaking as he raised his sword again. Blood dripped down his temple, mixing with the dirt on his cheeks. His breaths came in ragged gasps, but still--he stood.
The giant paused, tilting his head, the great black sword resting on his shoulder. For the first time, he hesitated.
He hadn't expected this--a mere child standing alone, bloodied, broken, yet unyielding. In the warrior's dark eyes, something shifted. Not pity. Not regret.
Respect.
He raised his sword high above his head, the metal gleaming like a crescent of death.
A warrior's death.
Ashar clenched his teeth, thinking only of his mother--her smile, her warmth. His father--his strength, his teachings. He would not fall without protecting them.
But the blade never fell.
Because a staggering figure pulled itself between them--arms outstretched, broken and battered.
Renart.
His legs buckled with every step, blood streaming from a dozen wounds. But his eyes burned with defiance.
"You will not touch my son," he rasped.
With the last of his strength, he shoved Ashar back and gave me a gentle smile, That he used to give Ashar when returning from a hunt or whenever he returned home only for this time he was not returning but leaving him.
The giant's blade came down.
SHRAK--
The Sword master's head fell from his shoulders, landing on the stone with a hollow thud.
Time stopped.
Ashar screamed--a sound not of a boy, but of a soul being torn in two. His knees gave way. He collapsed beside his father's body, shaking him, sobbing, trying to lift a man who would never rise again.
"No--Father--please--please get up--!"
Sofiana, crawling through blood and ruin, saw it--heard it--felt it in her bones. Her son's scream tore something inside her wide open.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, but her hands did not falter.
"Ashar... Renart..." she whispered, voice raw. "Forgive me."
She raised trembling hands, and golden light surged into the sky. Arcane sigils spun around her like a storm of stars--a spell older than memory itself.
Golden light spiraled, not magic. A miracle.
"Soul to soul," she whispered. "Heart to heart. Let one guide the other… even if the road breaks them both."
A radiant cocoon formed around Ashar's broken body--and Renart's lifeless one.
The black warrior stepped forward, blade still dripping. He raised it again, ready to finish the boy.
But Sofiana screamed--not in pain, but with will.
Her magic burst outward, brilliant and desperate--and Renart's soul, a flickering silver flame, rose from the lifeless body of Renart.
It hovered for a breathless second--then shot into Ashar's chest.
Ashar arched backward, eyes wide, light pouring from them as Renart's soul fused with his own.
Sofiana's knees buckled. Blood ran from her nose, her ears. She had given everything.
With the last of her strength, she whispered an incantation and wrapped Ashar in a barrier of golden mana--a bubble of protection--and launched him into the sky. From the sky, Ashar--unconscious, wrapped in light--opened his eyes just long enough to see it.
His mother--cleaved in half.
His scream echoed in silence--then darkness took him.
As Ashar rose through the sky, wrapped in golden light, Sofiana's body began to fail.
Her limbs trembled.
Her knees gave out.
But her mind--her heart--burned.
Time slowed to a final heartbeat.
And within it--her soul whispered everything she never got to say.
Renart...
Our time together was too short.
Far too short.
A soft memory rose--She saw Renart--younger, laughing beneath a tree, sword balanced on his shoulder, sun in his eyes. The first time he smiled at her.
She remembered Renart's teasing, the fights, the warmth of their fire-lit nights, the quiet peace they built from nothing. Ashar's first steps, his first words. The way he said "mother" like it was the most precious thing in the world.
Her heart clenched.
I should be sad...
But instead--there was calm.
We loved. We lived. And we made something beautiful.
Ashar… forgive me for leaving you alone. But you are not truly alone.
He's with you now.
He'll protect you. Teach you. Guide you.
My boys...
My stars...
A soft smile touched her lips, even as blood coated them.
Goodbye, Renart.
I thought we'd have more time… More laughter. More nights curled beside each other. More mornings watching Ashar grow. I wanted it all. I wanted you--for a lifetime.
Her hands trembled as blood pooled beneath her, but her heart pressed on.
If the gods had been kind… we'd have grown old together.
I would've watched your hair turn silver. I would've held your hand as we told Ashar stories of the war, of magic, of love.
I would've fallen asleep beside you one last time--not like this... not with your head in the dirt and your soul torn from your chest.
A sob caught in her throat, but there was no voice left to release it.
But maybe... just maybe... This was the plan all along.
She looked toward the sky where her son vanished like a star.
Ashar... my heart...
I don't know if I did enough. I don't know if I taught you all I should've. But I loved you with every breath I ever took.
Be kind, even when the world isn't. Be strong, but not cruel. Be a man who carries love like a sword.
And when the day comes that you learn the truth--about us, about him, about yourself--
Don't let it harden you. Let it shape you.
Let our love be your armor.
Her body collapsed forward, face toward the earth. Her vision blurred. Blood warmed her lips.
One last thought flickered through the void.
Renart... I will find you in next life.
And Ashar... my precious star... live.
Please... live.
The sword struck.
And Sofiana was gone.