Chapter 12 She’s not the Enemy

Rein stood between Aura and the King now—arms stretched, eyes full of fire. The fire of someone who’d lost everything—and refused to lose one more thing.

“She saved my life, grandpa! She saved me! If she hadn’t been there, I’d be dead. Everyone in the village would be dead. She didn’t just kill the monster—she stood her ground when no one else could. You weren’t there. You didn’t see what I saw. Where were you grandpa? We needed you!”

The king’s anger vanished, he said nothing only listened.

 “You talk about her name like it’s a crime? Like it’s her fault she was given it? Like she chose to be born in the slums? She didn’t tarnish anything. She honored it. With her actions. With her strength.”

The room was still. Even Kael’s grip on his sword relaxed.

“If you hurt her,” Rein said, quieter now, his voice lowering but no less intense, “I’ll never forgive you. Not as your grandson. Not as your blood. Not after everything that’s happened. She’s not the enemy. And if you can’t see that… then maybe you’re not the man I thought you were.”

Liora stepped forward, her boots tapping against the polished marble floor. 

“My King. If I may speak now… I believe there’s something important you should know about this girl—about Aura.”

The King did not respond immediately. His eyes were still locked on Rein, brows drawn low, shadows pooling beneath them. But he did not interrupt. That was invitation enough.

“It was not just that she stood her ground, or that she defended your grandson—although, yes, she did without hesitation. Aura faced down the Maulgor Colossus. That Colossus—the same creature the scouts report took down half a town before retreating into the southern ravine. The same one the royal knights were preparing to deploy three full squads against.”

The court stirred behind her—murmurs spreading like ripples in a pond.

“She didn’t just survive that encounter. She ended it. With a sword half-melted in her hands.”

The King’s eyes slid past her, narrowing slightly at Aura—silent still, the pale blue of her burned arms standing out against the borrowed finery Liora had dressed her in. She didn’t fidget. She didn’t look away. But neither did she smile.

“I witnessed it myself," Liora lied, "There was no mistake. Her blow struck true. She tore through it before any of our knights could intervene. The other monsters—what few were left—were scattering as we arrived.”

She let that hang for a second, then added softly, “With all due respect, Your Majesty, Aura may be of lowly birth, but her actions were worthy of the highest honor. She’s not just some orphan from the slums. She might be one of the strongest talents we’ve seen since… since the Hero’s passing.”

Still, the King said nothing.

Liora pressed on, “Think of what this could mean. For the kingdom. For the future. I know you’ve been searching for new candidates for the next Hero’s Blessing. I dare say, if anyone deserves to be considered—”

“She’s a child,” the King cut in, voice quieter than before, but sharper.

“Yes,” Liora answered gently, “and so was Rein when you first began to watch his growth. Age didn’t disqualify him. Nor did his inexperience. The difference is… Aura has already proven herself in the field.”

Silence again. The court behind them held its breath.

Liora inclined her head.

“I do not presume to challenge your judgment, Your Majesty. But I would ask only this: if you would see her as a threat for her name and her blood… might you also see her as a gift for her strength and her will?”

“This child… bested the Maulgor Colossus? Alone? A creature that burned entire garrisons? A beast our finest mages wouldn’t face alone? And you claim she brought it down with a half-melted sword?”

"Yes, my King."

 Rein took a step forward.

“Grandpa, please—”

But the King was already moving. He swept two swords from the side of a nearby guard with a suddenness that made the man flinch.

“Well then. Let’s put her claim to the test.”

He tossed one of the blades in a sharp arc. Aura caught it reflexively, though her hands still trembled from her burns. She held it awkwardly—clearly not recovered—but said nothing.

The King unsheathed the other sword with a scrape of steel. 

“On your guard, child. I will test your strength myself. If what they say is true, you’ll be just fine. And if not…”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.

“Grandpa, stop!” Rein cried, “You can’t seriously—she’s hurt! She just saved everyone, you can’t—!”

Kael stepped in front of Rein, placing hand on his shoulder.

 “Rein, don’t. This is how your grandfather is. You know that. He needs to see strength. Hear it. Feel it. It's the only language he trusts.”

“She’s not even healed! She doesn’t have to prove anything!”

“She does to him. If she really did what you say… she’ll survive this.” 

Aura looked down at the sword in her hands. Her fingers flexed once, twice. She winced but didn’t lower it.

King took his stance, his expression void of the warmth he had shown just moments earlier. This wasn’t a test. It was the execution.

“Come now, child. Or was that monster just clumsy and blind, and you were lucky enough to stab it while it slept?”

Aura slowly lifted the sword into a guard position. Her knees bent, one foot sliding back into stance. She said nothing.

But in her eyes… there was no fear.

Only silence.