The air of the Astral Sanctum still pulsed with power long after the light had faded. The twelve runes above Arka had settled into a perfect circle, forming the sigil of the Star Wolf Sovereign. It shimmered faintly before dissolving into his chest, etching itself into his soul.
A deep silence followed the kind that carried reverence, fear, and disbelief all at once. Even the elders who had lived for centuries had never witnessed a mortal complete all three Astral Trials without collapsing or losing control.
Then Elder Kaen spoke, his usually commanding voice softer than usual. "The Astral Realm has chosen."
He raised his staff. "From this day forth, Arka of the Star Wolf Lineage shall bear the title Heir of the Celestial Beast Throne."
The words rippled through the crowd like wind over fire. Nobles and warriors alike fell to one knee, some willingly, others grudgingly.
Lysander was the only one who did not kneel. Instead, he walked slowly toward Arka, his cloak fluttering, eyes calm and sharp. "Heir of the Celestial Beast Throne, huh? That's a title heavy enough to break a mountain."
Arka exhaled a shaky breath. "You make it sound like a curse."
Lysander's lips curved into a faint smile. "Sometimes, it is."
He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from Arka's face a subtle gesture hidden from the watching crowd by the angle of his arm. "But I've seen worse burdens carried by weaker men."
The words carried quiet warmth, and Arka couldn't help the faint chuckle that escaped his lips.
Before he could answer, a loud voice cut through the murmurs.
"Elders! This is madness!"
All heads turned. A man in golden armor stepped forward from the high ranks General Harkan, commander of the Solar Vanguard. His sharp eyes gleamed with anger.
"You would name an unbound beast-wielder as Heir? He's not of noble birth! His lineage may trace to the Star Wolf, but his origin is from the lower realm!"
Whispers broke out among the audience.
Elder Kaen's expression darkened. "The Astral Realm itself has acknowledged him. Do you dare question the will of the stars?"
"I question deception!" Harkan shot back. "Power can be stolen. Perhaps this boy found a way to manipulate the trial!"
Arka stepped forward, calm but unflinching. "If you doubt me, challenge me. The stars do not bend to lies."
The general sneered. "Gladly."
Lysander's hand moved in an instant, blocking Harkan's path. His tone was soft, but it carried the weight of command. "The trials have ended. You'll challenge no one here, General."
Harkan glared, but under the prince's cold stare, he hesitated. "You protect him too easily, Your Highness. Are you so certain this boy deserves your trust?"
Lysander's reply came like a blade sheathed in silk. "No. I'm certain he deserves your fear."
A tense silence followed. Harkan gritted his teeth, turned sharply, and stormed out of the sanctum.
As the crowd slowly dispersed, Lysander and Arka remained.
Arka broke the silence first. "You didn't have to step in."
"I know," Lysander said simply. "But if I hadn't, you would've."
For a moment, their eyes met two different lights, silver and gold, reflecting the same fire.
Above them, the faint shimmer of the Astral sigil faded completely. But in the silence that followed, both could feel it: the world had shifted, and fate was no longer a distant echo. It was here, breathing with them.
Arka had ascended. Yet the higher he rose, the darker the shadows that began to stir around the throne.