The Pulse Beneath the Mask

✦ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ✦

By Heaven’s law, every heir’s awakening was followed by a feast — a ritual to honor the Tree’s blessing. Mine, of course, was louder, brighter, and heavier than any before.

The feast hall of Heaven looked less like a room and more like a god had said:

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝗳 𝘄𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗹𝘂𝘅𝘂𝗿𝘆 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗼𝗻?

Golden banners cascaded down like rivers of sunlight.

Chandeliers burned with cold fire, scattering starlight across marble floors.

Fruits glowing like bottled dawn. Meats steaming with raw Ryvane.

Wines shimmering like galaxies poured into jeweled cups.

The light bent wrong in the glass — stars swirling where reflections should’ve been.

The laughter and clinking cups sounded slightly delayed, like the world’s echo arriving half a second too late.

Even taste felt muted — sweet wine fading into ash.

And at the center of it all — me.

✦ The Son of the God King ✦

The miracle boy who had walked into the Divine Tree and walked back out holding everything.

The cheering hadn’t stopped since I returned.

“Most elements!” “Heir of legends!” “A true Son of Heaven!”

If I had a celestial coin for every time someone shouted blessed, I’d own the treasury — and maybe Heaven’s parking lots too.

I smiled. I waved. I nodded like the perfect heir. The crown wasn’t on my head yet, but it may as well have been.

On my left, Kael sulked like a storm cloud stuffed into silk.

His elements — fire and lightning — should’ve made him glow.

Instead, he looked like a candle next to a sun.

I raised my goblet toward him, grinning.

“Nice flame, Kael. Don’t worry, I’ll let you toast marshmallows on my volcano.”

His jaw twitched. His knuckles whitened. Smile? Absent. Shocking, right?

Across from us, Lyra covered her mouth with a hand — but I caught the giggle anyway.

Her green hair shimmered under the chandeliers, her jade-bright eyes glowing.

“You’re terrible,” she whispered, leaning closer.

I smirked. “Terrible? I’m Heaven’s miracle, Lyra. Terrible is Kael’s poker face.”

Her laugh bubbled again, soft and genuine. For a moment, the weight in my chest eased.

But then… the archons.

Silken robes. Jeweled collars. Smiles sharp as daggers.

Arval’s glare burned like a torch.

He looked at me like I was a sword left lying on the floor — sharp, dangerous, waiting for the right hand to claim it.

I lifted my goblet higher, flashing a grin bright enough to blind.

For a blink, the goblet lagged behind my fingers — like my body moved, and my soul arrived half a breath late.

The same delay that haunted me since the Tree — 𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲.

“To stability!” I declared.

The goblet trembled slightly, not from my hand — but from something within, pulsing once, twice, like it wanted to speak.

The ministers did not toast back. Figures.

The cheers still lingered — faint, uneven, fading into whispers of awe.

Still, the applause thundered.

My mother wept, proud and unashamed.

In her tears, I saw what Heaven would never understand — 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗰𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗱𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗲.

My father sat stone-faced, silent. But his presence pressed on me like a storm whispering:

𝗚𝗼𝗼𝗱. 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝘃𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗱. 𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗶𝘁.

So I smiled wider. Because if anyone looked too close, they’d see it — the ember still burning violet-gold in my chest.

And beneath the applause, it pulsed again — soft, steady, patient. 𝗪𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗰𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗿.

The lights flickered once—shadows bending the wrong way across the hall. For a heartbeat, every voice hushed as if someone new had joined the room.

The applause had long faded when Archon Arval Nyx stepped from the shadows. No guards, no fanfare — just the weight of a man who’d already calculated the next century.

“An extraordinary display, Your Highness.” His voice carried the calm of a man too impressed to trust himself.

I turned. “Archon Arval Nyx. Enjoy the feast?”

“I rarely eat at miracles.” His gaze lingered — not on me, but on my chest, exactly where the ember pulsed.

“When the Divine Tree blessed you, did you hear it? Or did it merely reflect what was already inside you?”

The question slid in like a divine blade wrapped in courtesy.

“I heard… light,” I said, because 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩’𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘦.

Arval’s smile deepened — small, knowing, dangerous.

The feast was still loud, but for me, the sound had gone hollow — like Heaven had clapped too long, and finally realized it didn’t know why.

“Interesting. 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗲𝗲, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗹𝗲𝗰𝘁𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗜𝘁 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗶𝘁.”

Arval stepped past me, robes whispering like smoke. His words settled into the hall like a living crack — and in my chest, the ember answered with a patient, waiting pulse.

Somewhere deep within Heaven’s pulse, something answered back.

✦ Private Escape ✦

Later, when the celebration scattered into processions and feasts, I slipped away into a marble corridor behind the arena.

The walls hummed faintly with leftover Ryvane from the Divine Tree.

My body still trembled. My mind? Racing faster than my feet.

The cheers still rang in my bones, but no one heard them fade.

✦ Lyra ✦

Lyra found me first.

“You’re trembling,” she said softly.

I barked a laugh. “Trembling? No, this is just… enthusiastic vibrating. Totally normal post-trial side effect.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to joke all the time, Haise.”

Her words cut sharper than a minister’s whisper. Because she was right.

Her voice steadied the world for half a second. That was all it took for my breath to remember it existed.

But if I didn’t laugh, I’d scream.

For a heartbeat, I almost told her. About the other power. About the ember.

But the words stuck. Not yet. Not even with her.

So instead, I forced a crooked smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll manage.”

Her gaze searched mine, patient and heavy. But she didn’t press. That’s Lyra — she waits.

And when she looked away, I felt the quiet ache of a hand that almost stayed.

✦ Kael ✦

Kael came later.

We crossed paths in a practice yard away from the noise.

His sword was strapped across his back, his knuckles raw, fire still simmering under his skin.

“You survived,” he said flatly.

I smirked. “Wow, thanks for the glowing review, Captain Encouragement. Really warms the heart.”

His lips twitched. Almost a smile. Almost.

Then his eyes sharpened.

“They’ll fear you now, Haise. All of them. Don’t let that fear decide who you become.”

For a moment, I almost dropped the sarcasm. Almost.

Instead, I clapped his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep being annoying enough to balance it out.”

He snorted, shaking his head. But his gaze lingered, heavy. Our rivalry wasn’t gone. It had simply… shifted.

✦ End of chapter 16 - The Pulse Beneath the Mask ✦