The Future King and His Shadow

The eyes belonged to two creatures. Each had the body of a lion, but each body carried two heads. From every head rose a pair of white horns that shone faintly in the dark. Their skin was black and covered in coarse hair, while torn wings hung from their backs like ripped curtains.

Their tails moved on their own. White snakes. Each snake opened its mouth, and a drop of smoking acid fell from its fangs.

Alvis took one step back. “What the hell are those things?”

Nash clicked his tongue. “This would’ve been perfect training if I could use my magic.”

Dark crimson aura flickered over his hand for less than a second.

Then the forest swallowed it.

Nash’s face twisted. “Damn it.”

Malvern stood in front of them, his blind white eyes fixed on the creatures. “Heh. This forest really has the ugliest collection of monsters.”

His hand shifted toward his waist, then stopped.

Empty sheath.

Malvern’s smile twitched.

Right.

He had left his sword at the palace.

Damn it. I really should have brought it.

One of the creatures lowered its body. Both lion heads growled at once, and the snake tail hissed.

Malvern raised one hand. “You wanted training, didn’t you?”

A sword appeared in his grasp. Two more fell from the air and stabbed into the ground in front of Nash and Alvis.

Nash looked at the blade. He grabbed it first. His arm dropped immediately. The blade barely moved. He tried again, pulling this time with both hands, gritting his teeth. “It won’t move!”

Alvis tried to lift his own. His face reddened. “What the—? Why is it so heavy?”

“There are plenty of sticks around,” Malvern said. “Use one instead.”

Alvis’s face twisted. “Is this a joke to you?”

Malvern pointed his sword toward the creatures. “If I make the swords lighter, they’ll contain less condensed mana. This forest will eat them before you swing once.”

Alvis glared at the sword. “So your solution was to give us weapons we can’t lift? How clever.”

“Watch out!” Nash warned.

The snake tails opened their mouths.

Acid shot forward.

Malvern kicked two small stones from the ground. They flew like bullets and struck the acid streams midair, scattering them before they reached the boys. Smoking drops splashed across the ground.

The dirt hissed.

Nash stared at the holes burning into the soil.

Then one of the creatures leaped straight toward him and Alvis. The two froze for half a breath.

The other creature lunged toward Malvern, who stepped forward and caught its jaws with his sword.

Metal rang against fangs. The force pushed the ground beneath his boots inward.

“Use the horns!” Malvern shouted.

Nash snapped out of it first. “The horns?”

The chimera came down on them like a collapsing wall.

Nash didn’t have time to think. He abandoned the sword and threw himself at one head’s horns. Alvis cursed and grabbed the other head’s horns. The impact dragged both boys backward.

The creature thrashed its heads, trying to shake both boys loose.

Nash’s hands locked around the horns as his body swung through the air. “What are we supposed to do now?”

Alvis pulled himself onto the creature’s back, then reached one hand toward Nash. “Climb up!”

Nash stared at his hand for half a breath before understanding.

Alvis’s grin sharpened. “Let’s annoy it until it burns itself with that acid.”

Nash grabbed his hand and climbed onto the creature’s back. Then his own grin appeared, just as cunning. “Let’s do it.”

Malvern glanced over while parrying a bite from the creature before him. His eyebrow rose.

Oh?

The boys were not strong enough to lift the swords.

But they had not run.

Both had climbed onto the creature’s back, striking its back and kicking its sides while the chimera thrashed wildly beneath them. Each blow drove it into greater panic.

A smile touched Malvern’s face.

Not bad.

Then his expression sharpened when he noticed the snake tail twisting toward them. “Watch the tail!”

The white snake’s mouth opened, and acid gathered between its fangs.

Alvis’s eyes widened. “Now!”

Nash and Alvis jumped at the same time and threw themselves aside.

The acid shot from chimera’s tail.

Straight onto its back.

The creature screamed.

Both lion heads roared in pain as smoke rose from its skin.

Nash hit the ground, rolled, then looked at the sword beside him.

The blade had shrunk.

Still heavy, but not impossible to hold now.

The forest had already begun eating the mana inside it.

Nash grabbed the hilt with both hands and forced it up.

Seeing him, Alvis lifted his own sword with a strained grunt.

The chimera turned toward them, smoking and furious. Nash raised the blade in front of it while Alvis, still gripping his sword, closed his eyes in focus.

Flame began to gather at the tip of the sword like a candle.

The mana leaking from the blade fed the flame.

Alvis opened his eyes. “Get lost.”

The chimera froze. Its four eyes stared at the flame.

Then it backed away.

Nash stepped forward.

Alvis lifted the flame higher.

The creature snarled.

Then it turned and fled into the trees.

Malvern slammed his fist into the side of the other creature’s face. The impact bent one head sideways. He grabbed a horn, spun the creature once, and hurled it into a tree.

The trunk cracked.

The creature slid down, groaning, then scrambled after its partner and vanished into the forest.

Nash stood breathing hard, both hands still trembling around the sword. Alvis lowered his flame and exhaled.

For a few seconds, neither boy spoke.

Then Alvis smirked. “Heh. Foolish creature. It ran the moment it saw my flame.”

Nash turned toward him. “Your flame? You mean that candle.” He puffed at it and extinguished it.

“No! My flame! Why would you do that?” Alvis protested.

“Flames may draw more creatures, moron,” Nash said with a smirk.

Malvern stared at them as they argued. The corner of his mouth lifted.

His blind eyes shifted from Alvis to Nash.

One raised inside palace walls.

One shaped by everything beyond them.

A future king…

And perhaps the shadow that would walk beside him.

Maybe bringing them together had not been a mistake after all.

The swords in Nash and Alvis’s hands began dissolving into white sparks. Malvern’s blade followed a moment later.

“You did well enough.”

Alvis blinked. “That’s it?”

“What did you expect? A song?”

Before they could process their victory, the ground shook.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Malvern’s smile vanished.

Something landed behind him.

Not one thing.

Three.

The air changed.

Nash slowly looked past Malvern.

Alvis’s face drained of color.

Behind them stood three enormous creatures.

Their eyes did not glow wildly like the chimeras.

They watched calmly and intelligently.

Malvern did not move.

Crap.

One of the three lowered its head. The ground trembled beneath the motion, and its gaze fell to Malvern’s chest.

The fang necklace.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then the creature spoke.

The voice was deep enough to pass through bone.

“Bearer of the King’s Fang.”

Nash’s blood went cold.

Alvis whispered, “It… talks?”

Malvern’s face remained tense. “I’m guessing that means we’re not being eaten.”

The creature’s eyes shifted toward Nash and Alvis.

Nash froze.

Alvis did too.

“No human walks this forest freely.”

Only one spoke, as if it were the leader.

“But one who bears that fang shall suffer no harm from us.”

The creature lowered its fang-filled mouth close to Malvern. “For what reason have you come here?”

“For now,” Malvern said, “we only want to get out.”

“Is that so?”

A low growl rumbled from the creature’s throat. “You entered this forest, attacked its creatures, and now wish to leave?”

Nash and Alvis felt their hearts race.

Malvern’s body tensed, ready to counter whatever attack might come.

The creature stared at him for several long seconds. “Consider yourself fortunate,” it said at last. “You did not kill any of them.”

Then it turned, and the other two followed. “Follow us, if you wish to leave.”

As if the forest had heard them, the trees shifted aside, dragging their roots through the soil.

Nash stared. Alvis stared. Even Malvern said nothing.

They followed the three creatures through the path opened between the trees. Their enormous bodies moved silently ahead.

For a while, none of them spoke.

Then Nash’s low voice broke the silence. “By the way, old man… I wanted to ask you something.”

Malvern’s eyebrow twitched. “Old man again…”

“Before the attack, Leif and Arvid left with the other classmates for a book fair in the Royal City.” Nash kept his gaze on the ground. “Do you know if they reached it?”

Malvern’s steps slowed slightly.

“There was a carriage found some distance from the others,” he said. “It had burned down to its frame.”

Nash looked toward him.

Malvern’s voice lost its usual playfulness. “From what remained inside, it appears the children never reached the Royal City.”

Nash’s stomach twisted so violently that he thought he might vomit.

Before he could stop it, his mind forced Leif and Arvid into the burned carriage—silent, blackened shapes where his laughing friends should have been.

His hand rose toward his mouth.

Malvern continued walking, allowing several seconds to pass before he spoke again.

“I ordered a group of Royal Guards to return to the village to clear away the burned carriages and… well, gather whatever remains they can find.”

His voice softened.

“Unfortunately, they’ll have to bury everyone together in one grave.”

Nash’s fingers curled at his sides. “Why didn’t King Kane save them?”

The words came out heavier than he intended.

“My mom. My friends. Everyone in the village.” His jaw tightened. “And what did he mean when he said something unexpected had happened?”

Malvern turned his head slightly toward him. “His Majesty tried to honor the peace treaty between Valenharth and Ashvaria,” he said. “The Emperor was the one who chose to break it.”

Malvern’s answer struck deeper than he had expected.

His own voice returned, echoing through his mind.

So why… why didn’t you save us, you coward?

You’re no king to me! You’re just a coward hiding behind royal clothes!

My mom was my only family. Not you, you coward king!

Each insult sounded crueler now than when he had spoken it.

His steps slowed for half a breath.

Alvis looked toward Nash but said nothing. Then he turned his gaze to Malvern. “Does that mean we’ll be at war with Ashvaria soon?”

“I doubt they have the courage to face us directly.”

Malvern turned his head slightly over his shoulder, a confident smile touching his face. “Because they would lose.”

The three creatures continued deeper through the shifting forest.

The moment they stepped out, the path behind them filled with trees again. The three creatures remained in the darkness of the forest, their gazes still fixed on them.

The smell of salt touched the wind.

Ahead of them, the forest ended beneath the night sky. Beyond the last line of trees, moonlight shimmered over a dark, endless surface that stretched farther than Nash’s eyes could follow.

The ocean.

Nash stood frozen. “So this is the ocean…”

Malvern scratched the back of his head. “Consider yourselves lucky. It happened to be on our way out.”

Nash had never seen anything so large.

And yet, as the moonlight stretched across the endless water, he realized it was exactly the world Natasha had once described to him.

His fingers slowly curled.

A memory rose with the sound of the waves.

A smaller version of himself lay beneath a blanket while Natasha sat beside his bed, holding an open storybook.

“The ocean,” he had asked, “what is it?”

Natasha had smiled.

“Hmm… imagine the lake near our village.”

Nash’s eyes had widened.

“Then imagine it becoming so large that your eyes can’t find where it ends.”

“Do fish live there too?”

“Of course, dummy.”

The memory faded.

The wind touched Nash’s face, carrying salt instead of smoke. His vision blurred.

All this time, he had thought the world waited beyond her.

But now that it stretched before him, endless and beautiful, he wanted nothing more than to return to the small house that was filled with her voice.

His lips trembled.

You weren’t a cage, Mom…

A tear slipped down his cheek.

You were my world.

Alvis saw the tear sliding down Nash’s cheek. He saw the way his lips trembled, as if he were holding back words too heavy to say aloud.

So, for once, Alvis understood.

This was not a moment to interrupt.

For a while, only the waves spoke.

Then Malvern looked back at the forest, where the trees stood like a black wall. He touched the fang necklace around his neck, remembering the creature’s words.

Bearer of the King’s Fang.

Alvis rubbed his arms. “So…” His voice came out smaller than usual. “What now?”

Nash wiped the tear from his cheek.

Malvern let out a slow breath. “What now…?”

He lifted one hand. White light gathered in front of him. A circular portal opened in the air, rippling like the one Alfred had made.

Alvis looked at it.

Then looked at Malvern.

Alvis pointed at the portal. “You can do that too?”

“Sometimes.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means move before I change my mind and leave you here.”

Without a word, Nash stepped through first.

Before the light swallowed him, Alvis caught one last glimpse of the silent sadness on Nash’s face.

Then he followed.

Malvern looked once more toward the forest, then stepped into the portal.

Night had settled over the Royal Palace.

Inside her room, Julia stood before the mirror in her nightclothes, combing her hair beneath the soft light of a lamp. Cold wind slipped through the open window and stirred the curtains behind her.

On her dresser rested a wooden-framed portrait of an elderly man and woman surrounded by many children.

Julia finished combing her hair and looked at it with a gentle smile. “Mr. and Mrs. Vembert… I can’t wait to visit you again.”

The room remained peaceful until a knock came at her door.

Julia froze.

It was late. No one usually knocked on her door after she had retired for the night.

She stared at the door.

Then the mirror and lamp rose quietly behind her, floating in the air as if ready to strike at the first sign of danger.

Julia approached the door and slowly turned the handle.

When it opened, Nash and Alvis stood in the dimly lit hallway.

“Prince Alvis? Nash?” Julia blinked. “You returned?”

The lamp and mirror slowly lowered behind her.

The two boys lowered their heads. “Yes,” they said in unison.

Julia studied their tired faces. “You both look exhausted. Should I prepare something for you to eat?”

Their heads lowered even more. “Yes,” they said again.

“But before that, Lady Julia…” Alvis nudged Nash with his elbow.

Nash looked at him. “What?”

“We agreed I say half and you say half,” Alvis whispered, though his words were still loud enough for Julia to hear.

“But you only said a quarter,” Nash whispered back.

“I don’t care. I knocked, and I talked first. Now you continue.”

“Fine.”

Nash looked away, embarrassed by the words he was about to say. “The…” His mouth tightened. “The old man made us come here to apologize to you.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “For what we did to the kitchen. We turned it into chaos. Please forgive us.”

A gentle laugh escaped Julia’s mouth. She reached out and patted both boys on the head. “Don’t worry about the kitchen. I cleaned it until it looked new again.” Her smile softened. “More importantly, seeing you two return together like this is already enough of an apology for me.”

After those words, Nash and Alvis exchanged a glance.

For one second, neither spoke.

Then both looked away, small smiles pulling at their faces.

Julia suddenly leaned closer and sniffed.

Her smile disappeared. “Ew. You both smell terrible.”

The boys stiffened.

“Both of you. Bath. Now.”

“But Lady Julia,” Alvis said, “it’s late. We might catch a cold.”

“No bath, no delicious food.” Julia stared at them firmly—or at least, she tried to. Her gentle face could not fully imitate such a threatening expression.

Nash and Alvis swallowed as their stomachs growled.

“I think we have no choice,” Alvis whispered.

“Me too,” Nash said.

At the far end of the hallway, Alfred stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

Silent.

Watching from the dark.

Elsewhere in the palace, Kane sat at his desk, sealing documents with the royal seal. The lamp beside him burned low. Papers covered the desk in neat stacks, each one carrying the weight of the kingdom in ink and wax.

Then Kane stopped.

A small piece of paper lay beneath his hand.

Only a few words were written on it.

120,000 golden coins.

A loan for my friend.

No signature.

No seal.

No name.

No date.

Nothing but those words.

Kane stared at the paper for a moment. Then a faint smile touched his face.

He folded it carefully, opened a drawer, and placed it inside.

When the drawer closed, his gaze drifted to the window.

The night beyond it was quiet.

Too quiet.

“He’s late.”

“I’m already here.”

Malvern’s voice came from the chair across the desk.

Kane turned.

Malvern sat there as if he had been present the entire time, shoulders slumped, one leg stretched out, exhaustion written all over his face.

“Malvern.”

“Hell of a day,” Malvern said.

Kane leaned back slightly. “How did it go?”

“Good.” Malvern rubbed the back of his neck. “If we ignore the monster attacks, moving trees, and the three giant creatures that stared at us like we were insects.”

He placed the fang necklace on the desk.

Kane looked at it. “Did it help?”

“A lot.” Malvern looked at the necklace. “What is it, exactly?”

“Something given to me by someone I see as a father.”

Malvern’s expression shifted.

Kane’s voice softened. “Speaking of fathers… did you visit Bernard’s grave?”

Malvern turned his face aside. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I did.”

“At least he has a grave to visit,” he said. “Unlike the people of Lake Village.”

Malvern sighed as he leaned back in the chair, his blind gaze settling on nothing. “What an annoying, stubborn old baldy he was.”

A faint smile appeared on his face. “When he entered my office and found my feet on the desk, he screamed at me like I was a recruit. I was his captain, and he still looked ready to beat discipline into my skull.”

Kane’s expression softened. “That sounds like him.”

“Old Baldy Bernard…” Malvern’s smile faded. “He was like a father to everyone in that guild.”

His fingers curled over the armrest. “And he respected you, Your Majesty. Truly respected you.”

His voice turned bitter. “He didn’t deserve to die like that.”

Kane did not answer.

Malvern looked at him. “I don’t know how you stay still.” His jaw tightened. “But if I were you, I would have burned Ashvaria to the ground.”

The room grew quiet.

Only the lamp flame moved.

“War,” Kane said at last.

Malvern stayed silent.

Kane stood and walked toward the window. “Why does it always wait at the end of every road?”

Moonlight touched his face. His hand rested against the window frame. “This world is full of contradictions. Peace and conflict. Hatred and love. Vengeance and forgiveness.”

He turned slightly toward Malvern. “But if men like us cannot build a bridge between them, then all we leave behind is another battlefield.”

Malvern’s expression remained tense.

Kane looked outside again. “You have every right to be angry with me. I am angry with myself.”

His voice lowered. “I never wanted the throne. I was pushed toward it.”

A gust of wind moved through the open window, stirring his golden hair. “But when I accepted it, I accepted the trust that came with it.”

His eyes narrowed.

“The trust to build a world where children do not inherit our wars.”

“A world of change.”

The words faded into the night.

Then his expression darkened.

“And yet…”

His hand tightened against the frame.

“It seems I am failing.”

A few hours later, after bathing and eating, Nash stood before the mirror in one of the palace bathrooms.

For the first time since arriving at the palace, he had changed out of the smoke-stained clothes he had brought from the village. A loose white sleeping shirt and dark trousers borrowed from Alvis now covered him, both slightly too large for his frame.

Water dripped from Nash’s chin. His half-crimson left eye stared back at him.

For a long time, he did not move.

Then his mother’s voice returned.

Nash, I bought this lens to match your black right eye and hide the crimson in your left. Never remove it.

His hand slowly rose toward his face.

Then stopped.

The mirror reflected the boy he had become in only a few days.

A survivor.

An orphan.

A target.

A fool who had almost died in slime.

Nash splashed more water onto his face, wiped it with the towel beside him, and left the bathroom.

His feet carried him through the quiet palace halls. This time, he was not looking for a way out.

He stopped before Kane’s office and knocked.

No answer.

Nash hesitated, then pushed the door open.

The room was empty.

A lamp still burned on the desk. The window stood wide open, allowing the cold night air to drift inside. Beyond it, stars glittered above the palace like scattered shards of silver.

Nash stepped into the office. “King… Kane?”

No answer came.

His gaze moved across the room. Kane’s crown rested upon the desk, its green emeralds shining faintly beside several orderly stacks of documents.

As Nash approached the open window, his fingers brushed lightly across the crown.

The palace garden stretched beneath him, silvered by moonlight. Farther away, the faint lights of the Royal City glimmered beneath the stars. For a moment, the view held him still.

He leaned closer to the window and tilted his head upward. “Could he be waiting on that balcony again?” he murmured. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Nash turned toward the door, then hesitated.

His gaze drifted back to the city lights, as though he wanted to remain there a little longer. At last, he turned away.

A gust of cold wind brushed the back of his neck.

Before he could turn, an enormous hand made of yellow lightning reached through the window and gently closed around his waist.

It lifted him from the floor.

Nash’s eyes widened. “What the hell—?”

He grabbed at the glowing fingers. “Let go of me!”

He struggled, but the hand did not tighten or hurt him. It simply carried him through the window and up toward the higher balcony.

Nash tried to summon his dark crimson aura.

Then he saw the person standing there.

“You.”

Kane stood on the balcony, leaning against the white marble railing, his gaze fixed on the stars.

The yellow hand placed Nash beside him and faded.

Kane did not look surprised. “Still thinking about running away?”

Nash’s mouth opened.

Then closed.

He looked away.

“I was…”

The words stuck in his throat.

Kane waited.

Nash crossed his arms against the cold. “I was looking for you.”

Kane turned slightly, surprise crossing his face. “Why?”

Nash stared down at the palace gardens below.

“The old man told me…”

His fingers tightened over his sleeve. “The Emperor was the one who broke the peace treaty, so… it wasn’t your fault.”

Kane said nothing.

Nash’s voice grew quieter. “And I remembered how I treated you...”

The wind passed between them.

“I was angry.”

His throat tightened. “My mom taught me not to be ungrateful.”

He forced the words out.

“So…”

His fists trembled.

“I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Kane only looked at him.

Then he removed his green royal cloak and draped it over Nash’s shoulders.

Nash froze.

The cloak was warm.

“No apology is necessary,” Kane said.

Nash looked up.

Kane’s gaze had returned to the stars. “I failed as a king to protect my people. If blame must fall somewhere, it falls on me.”

Nash’s chest tightened. “That’s not true.”

Kane glanced at him.

Nash’s voice sharpened. “You protected me.”

Kane’s expression softened.

He placed a hand on Nash’s head. “And I am glad I did.”

Nash did not push his hand away.

Not this time.

Kane withdrew it after a moment. “Go back to sleep. Your body needs rest.”

Nash gripped the cloak around his shoulders. “I can’t.”

Kane looked at him. “Every time I close my eyes…”

Nash’s jaw tightened. “I see my mom.”

His fingers clenched. “And that bastard killing her in front of me.”

The night went still.

Nash turned to Kane. “King Kane.” His voice was low but steady. “I know you want peace. I know you don’t want more blood.”

His half-crimson eye shone beneath the moonlight. “Then let me become the blade that walks the path you refuse to walk.”

Kane’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Nash stepped closer. “Teach me how to become stronger.”

For a moment, Kane said nothing.

A shooting star crossed the sky behind them, leaving a pale line through the darkness.

Then Kane sighed. “There is a difference between fighting for peace and fighting for vengeance.”

Nash frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means I will not raise you into a weapon made from my failures.”

Confusion tightened Nash’s expression. “I don’t understand.”

“One day, you will.”

“I want to understand now.”

Kane smiled faintly. “It is late.”

Yellow aura rose around him.

The giant hand appeared again behind Nash.

Nash’s eyes twitched. “No.”

The hand lifted him gently.

“Go rest.”

“Not again!”

The hand carried him away from the balcony and back through the palace halls.

Kane remained beneath the stars.

Inside his room, Nash was placed carefully onto his bed.

The hand faded.

Nash sat there for a moment, clutching the cloak tightly around his shoulders. “Not again.”

Several hours later, far from Valenharth Palace, Colvin appeared inside a silent sanctuary. Morning sunlight streamed through stained-glass windows, painting the empty rows of chairs and the floor beneath them in red, blue, and gold, while birds sang faintly beyond the walls. At the front stood a wooden lectern with an open book resting upon it.

A man stood before the book.

White-gray hair flowed down his back. A black priestly robe covered his tall frame. Rings of different colors decorated his fingers, and an agate bracelet circled his right wrist.

The moment Colvin appeared behind him, the man’s shoulders trembled. Tears streamed down his face as he pressed his hands together.

“Oh Lord… Please have mercy on those wretched souls.”

Then, in a voice far too calm for those tears, he whispered, “Amen.”