The thunderclouds had only just begun to part when the royal procession made its way into the shattered ruins. The King appeared, flanked by the Queen, adorned in regal silver and sapphire, and by none other than Elder Gideon and Lady Mariana Alden, Xavier’s parents. His royal mantle fluttered behind him as he stepped forward, his presence commanding imdiate silence and reverence.
All those present instinctively dropped to one knee. The soldiers lowered their weapons. The cultivators, so still catching their breath from battle, bowed their heads. Even Henrietta, still veiled in mist and charged with the crackling remnants of her breakthrough, inclined her head deeply in respect before rising again to her full, radiant posture.
Lady Mariana did not wait for formalities. The mont she spotted her son kneeling amidst the rubble, she rushed forward past the guards and aides, her heart overriding protocol. She dropped beside Lucas with trembling hands, lifting his face gently, her eyes filling with tears at the sight of him, bloodied, bruised, and battered, but alive. Her fingers brushed his cheek, the pride and relief in her gaze too raw to be hidden.
"You did it," she whispered, her voice choking with emotion. "My brave boy... you did it."
Lucas gave her a small, tired smile, but said nothing, he didn’t need to, the mont said everything.
Elder Gideon remained behind the king, when his eyes t his son’s across the space between them, sothing softened. A subtle nod, firm and quiet, passed between them.
The king moved toward Henrietta first, He stopped before her, studying her with his eyes, his voice, when he spoke, was deep and resonant.
"You have crossed a boundary very few ever reach," he said. "we are proud of you, Henrietta. Your strength was decisive today. Your rise was the dawn in our darkest hour."
Henrietta bowed her head once more, her misty veil flickering in the breeze, but she said nothing in return.
He walked slowly toward Lucas, whose body still ached under the weight of everything he had endured. As the king approached, Lucas attempted to straighten himself. He rose as much as his limbs would allow, forcing one knee under him and bowing deeply despite the pain that surged through every fiber of his being.
The king paused in front of him, looking down at the young man who had stood where no one else could have.
"Xavier," he said, his voice quieter now, edged with curiosity and admiration, "you’re so full of surprises... aren’t you?"
Lucas lifted his gaze to et the king’s. His voice was hoarse but steady, a thread of conviction still clinging to it.
"I am only doing my best to keep everyone safe, Your Majesty," he replied, each word pulled from the marrow of his fatigue.
The king gave a slight nod, the corners of his mouth curving just enough to suggest a smile. "Rise."
Lucas obeyed slowly, the effort it took evident in the stiffness of his body. But he stood, and he stood tall.
Then, turning toward the gathered crowd, toward the soldiers, the cultivators, the nobles, and the citizens who had begun to gather in the distance, the king lifted his voice for all to hear.
"Today, our Kingdom has faced a storm of shadows, and we have endured. When the monsters of chaos rose against our walls, our soldiers did not flee. When the sky darkened and danger marched upon us, our cultivators stood as our shield. And even when despair threatened to swallow us whole, we did not bow."
His eyes swept over them all, but they settled last on Lucas.
"Among you stood one who carried the burden of this battle in his very soul. One whose courage, in the face of overwhelming odds, shined brighter than any weapon. He did not do it for glory. He did not do it for reward. He did it because it was right. And for that, Xavier Alden... you have the gratitude of this kingdom."
The king’s expression hardened as he turned once more to the crowd. His voice rang with authority, heavy with the weight of a decision forged long before the battle had ended.
"This is not the end," he declared. "This was only a ssage from our enemies, a glimpse of what they intend. We are to prepare. The ti has co to march for war."
A murmur rippled through the assembly, eyes widening, backs straightening. So clenched their fists in anticipation, others exchanged tense glances. But there was no resistance, the people knew. After what they had faced today, there was no longer any illusion of safety.
The king raised a hand, silencing the crowd.
"Remain on high alert, double the city watch, reinforce the walls. I want every soldier ready within the day."
The king turned and began to leave, As he passed Lucas, he paused once more. The quiet weight in his tone returned, now tinged with respect.
"Xavier," he said, his voice low enough for only Lucas to hear, "you’ve earned the right to stand at the table when war is discussed. You will be summoned."
Lucas stiffened at those words, not from fear or apprehension, but from pride, a place at the war table was not given lightly. It ant trust, it ant recognition, it ant his deeds had left a mark not just in the battlefield, but in the heart of the kingdom.
He bowed slightly, acknowledging the honor, "I will do my best to serve the kingdom, Your Highness." The king nodded, he was pleased with him.
The ride back to the castle was quieter than the journey out. Soldiers lined the roads, civilians peeked from balconies, and everywhere eyes followed Lucas as he rode, weary but unbroken.
When they arrived at the castle gates, the tension in Lucas’s body caught up with him. His strength, barely holding on during the return, nearly gave way as he dismounted. But before he could fall, a figure burst through the archway of the inner courtyard.
"Lucas!" Lira cried, her voice sharp with panic.
She ran to him, her face pale with fear as she took in his wounds, his torn robes, the dried blood along his brow. Her hands reached for him instinctively, gently sliding beneath his arm to support his weight.
But before she could steady him fully, another presence swept in.
Selene. She moved swiftly to Lucas’s side, "Xavier... let help you," she offered, placing her hand gently on his arm.
But Lucas didn’t look at her.
His eyes passed over her as if she weren’t there at all. His steps shifted subtly, and he leaned more of his weight on Lira instead. The aning was clear, he had not forgotten the cruel way Selene had humiliated Lira at the feast. No concern from her now, no matter how sweetly spoken, would erase that mory.
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