《Knight's Code Book One: To be a Knight》
Prologue: “Even Gods can Bleed”
The battlefield stretched to the horizon, a scar upon Dawn''s surface. The earth, churned to blackened mud, steamed from the searing flames of past clashes. Shattered weapons and sundered armor glittered like forsaken stars in the ash-choked twilight. The air was heavy with the acrid stench of blood and ozone, carrying the echoes of distant, anguished cries.
At the center of the chaos stood Julius Johnson Sr., his armor battered and bloodied, yet his stance unbroken. He was more than a man; he was defiance incarnate. His blade, Volundar''s Pact, gleamed faintly with draconic runes, pulsing in rhythm with his labored breaths. The weapon was as much a symbol of his pact with Volunder, the last of the Dragon Gods, as it was an extension of his will.
Volunder loomed beside him, a colossal golden dragon whose scales shimmered like molten sunlight. Smoke coiled from his nostrils, and his vast wings folded now, cast a protective shadow over his knight. His amber eyes burned with an ancient sorrow and resolve.
"The gods think mortals fragile," Volunder growled, his voice a resonant tremor. "They forget we bleed the same. Today, we remind them."
Julius nodded, a flicker of a wry grin tugging at his lips despite the tension. "Fragility isn''t in my nature, old friend. Lets see if their divinity can stand to reason."
From the storm-laden sky descended the Celestials, their forms radiant yet ominous. Maria, the Angel of Lust, led them, her beauty an unrelenting weapon. Black silken hair flowed in contrast to her alabaster wings, and her smile was a blade as sharp as any forged steel.
"Julius," Maria purred, her voice a melody that promised paradise, "you could end this now. Cast aside your sword, forsake the dragon, and I will grant you pleasures beyond mortal comprehension."
Julius met her gaze, his dark eyes unyielding. "I fight not for pleasure, Celestial, nor for your hollow promises. I fight because mortals deserve more than your chains."
Her smile faded, replaced by a predatory glare. "Then you will die with your ideals, as fragile as they are."
From her left emerged Tybalt, the Angel of War, his crimson armor glinting like fresh blood. He twirled a spear wreathed in flame, each movement a promise of calculated destruction. Selene, the Mistress of Shadows, followed in her spectral guise, her form flickering like an unfinished nightmare. Her laughter, jagged and mocking, filled the air.
Volunder''s tail lashed the ground with a force that sent cracks spidering through the battlefield. "Do not falter, Julius. Their strength is borrowed. Ours is earned."You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
The clash began with a roar that shook the heavens. Volunder surged forward, unleashing a torrent of fire that cut a blazing swath through the celestial ranks. Julius was a blur beside him, his blade meeting Tybalts spear in a clash that sent sparks showering across the field.
"You fight like a desperate man," Tybalt snarled, pressing his advantage with crushing blows. "Because you know youve already lost."
Julius twisted, turning Tybalts momentum against him, and struck. "Desperation has its uses. It''s what keeps us standing when gods falter."
Above, Maria descended gracefully, her hand extended toward Volunder. Her lips moved in a silent incantation, and the air around her shimmered with an unholy light. Selene darted through the shadows, aiming for the dragons vulnerable underbelly.
"Volunder!" Julius shouted, leaping to intercept. His blade caught Selenes dagger mere inches from the dragons heart. "Not today."
Selene hissed, vanishing into a swirl of darkness, only to reappear behind Julius. Her blade found his shoulder, carving a shallow wound, but Julius spun, delivering a retaliatory slash that forced her back.
"Enough!" Marias voice boomed, amplified by divine power. The battlefield froze momentarily, the air thick with oppressive magic. She glared at Julius, her composure cracking. "You cannot defy us forever. The gods will is absolute."
Volunder snarled, stepping forward to shield Julius. "The gods will is brittle. You are neither omniscient nor invincible. And today, we prove it."
With a guttural roar, Volunder unleashed a firestorm that consumed the heavens. Julius advanced beneath the inferno, his blade carving through divine defenses. Tybalt fell to a well-placed strike, his spear clattering to the ground as he vanished in a flash of divine light. Selene shrieked, her form disintegrating under Volunders breath.
Maria hovered, her wings tattered, her radiant facade marred by cracks. "You may win this day," she spat, her voice venomous. "But the gods do not forgive. Their vengeance will haunt your bloodline."
Julius stood tall, his sword pointed toward her. "Let them come. We will be ready."
Maria retreated into the storm, her form dissolving into the ether. The battlefield fell silent save for the crackle of lingering flames. Julius lowered his blade, his chest heaving. Beside him, Volunder crouched, his golden scales dimmed but unbroken.
"You fought well," the dragon said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "But the gods will not rest until they have taken everything."
Julius turned to his companion, his expression resolute. "Then Ill give them a fight theyll never forget."
Volunders gaze softened, pride and sorrow mingling. "You will carry this burden, Julius Johnson. And your bloodline will carry it long after you."
The storm clouds began to dissipate, revealing a charred yet quiet battlefield. As Julius and Volunder retreated, Marias whispered threat lingereda promise of divine reckoning.
"You will belong to us, knight. One way or another."
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Chapter 1: A Burdened Beginning
The morning light poured over Timber Falls like a hesitant blessing, bathing the barren fields in a muted gold. The Johnson farm, a patchwork of crumbling fences and overgrown grass, sat quietly under the expanse of the sky. Near the edge of the property, beneath a cluster of weathered oaks, stood two gravestones.
Julius Johnson knelt before them, his head bowed, the weight of memory pressing on his shoulders. The sword strapped to his back caught the morning light, but the brilliance of its steel seemed out of place in the humble setting.
His fingers brushed across the first stone, etched with the name Julius Johnson Sr., followed by the words: Knight of LeonaFallen but Unbroken. Juliuss hand lingered there, tracing the letters as though seeking answers in their grooves.
You set me up for a great start, didnt you? he muttered his tone light but with an edge of bitterness. A legacy to clean up, a name to redeem, and no instruction manual. Thanks for that, Dad.
His gaze shifted to the second gravestone. Maria JohnsonA Love Beyond Mortal Bounds. The words were softer, kinder, and they cut deeper. And you, he murmured, left me with a lot to live up to. No pressure or anything.
Julius sat back on his heels, letting the silence settle around him. The graves didnt answer. They never did. But somehow, standing here, he felt their weight more than anywhere else.
Im going, he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. To Leona. To the Academy. I dont know if Im ready for it, but I''ll never find out if I dont leave now. His hazel eyes flickered with something stubborn, unyielding. Ill make it right. Somehow.
Julius adjusted the strap of his satchel as he rose, the early morning sunlight brushing over his light brown skin. He stood tall, even among the towering trees of Timber Falls, his six-foot frame a testament to his mixed lineage. The Danambi-descendant Leonaian blood in his veins gave him a rugged sturdiness and a certain quiet grace. His black hair, curling slightly at the ends, fell messily around his face, a reminder of the long hours spent readying for this journey rather than worrying about appearances.
He caught his reflection in a nearby puddle, his hazel eyes standing out vividlylike embers caught in the fading glow of a fire. There was always something restless in those eyes, a flicker of determination that burned even when the weight of his fathers legacy pressed down on his shoulders. His sharp, angular features bore traces of both sides of his heritage: the proud, earthy strength of the Danambi and the poised discipline of the Leonaian knights.
Timber Falls, with its sprawling woods and tightly-knit community of tall, broad-shouldered lumberjacks, had always been home to Danambi-descendant Leonaian families. Yet, even among his people, Julius was something of an outlier. He carried himself differentlynot just with the burden of his fathers name but with a quiet awareness that came from years of longing for something beyond this small village.
The sword on his back gleamed in the sunlight, its intricate carvings catching the light. It was a weapon that didnt belong in Timber Falls, just as Julius sometimes felt he didnt. His hands, calloused from years of hauling timber and tending to the family farm, rested instinctively on the hilt as he took a deep breath.
The faint rustle of leaves drew his attention. Two children from the village peeked out from behind a tree, their eyes wide with curiosity. Like most of the younger ones in Timber Falls, they saw Julius as larger than lifea boy who grew up swinging axes like toys and now prepared to carry his familys legacy to the capital.
Julius offered them a lopsided grin and a small wave before turning away. The weight of their gazes stayed with him as he mounted Cricket, the sturdy bay horse that had been his companion for years.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Alright, girl, he murmured, patting her neck. Lets show them that a Johnson can still make a name worth remembering.
Inside the barn, Julius tightened the last strap on his saddlebag, his movements steady despite the tremor in his chest. The barn smelled of hay and aged wood, scents that had become so ingrained in his life he barely noticed them anymore. Now, as he prepared to leave, they felt suddenly significant, a tether to the life he was leaving behind.
Outside, a small group of neighbors had gathered, their expressions a mixture of pity and polite encouragement. Julius had always hated pityit felt like being dressed in ill-fitting armor. He swung onto his horse, Cricket, and forced a grin.
Thanks for the sendoff, he said, raising a hand in a mock salute. Ill try not to embarrass the village too much.
A few chuckles rippled through the crowd, but most of the smiles were tight, strained. The weight of expectation, of judgment, pressed on him like an invisible chain.
As Julius urged Cricket forward, a voice cut through the murmurs. Youre chasing ghosts, boy.
He froze, his reins tightening instinctively. The voice was calm, and deliberate, and carried a weight that made the hairs on his neck stand. Turning toward the source, Julius saw a man leaning against the fence at the edge of the gathering. The mans dark cloak swayed lightly in the breeze, its hood casting his face into shadow. Despite his casual posture, there was something about himsomething off.
Juliuss pulse quickened as his gaze swept over the stranger. His instincts sharpened without warning, feeding him details he hadnt consciously sought. Average height, compact build, cloak disguising armor. Swordfighter. Defensive stancesteady, balanced. His sword is positioned for a quick draw. Feet positioned for a counter. Watch his left side.
The thoughts came unbidden, precise, and clinical, like a voice in his head that wasnt entirely his own. Julius shook his head slightly, trying to dispel the strange sensation.
Judging someones life choices without introducing yourself? Julius called, forcing his tone into something light. Thats bold, even for Timber Falls.
The man pushed off the fence, his boots crunching softly against the dirt as he approached. His movements were fluid, measured, and carried an air of quiet authority. You think youre ready for whats waiting in Leona? he asked, his voice low but cutting.
Julius shrugged, though his grip on the reins tightened. Honestly? Probably not. But if I wait until Im ready, Ill be stuck here forever. And Timber Falls doesnt deserve to endure me that long.
The mans lips twitched, but it wasnt quite a smile. Its not charm youll need in Leona. Its steel. And even then, it might not be enough.
Julius leaned forward slightly, studying the stranger. Youre dramatic for someone Ive never met. Do you always give cryptic warnings, or am I just special?
The man stopped a few paces away, his shadow falling across the path. Your father was special, too. Look where it got him.
The words hit like a blow, and Juliuss hand drifted to the hilt of his sword. He didnt draw it, but the intent was clear. If you know something about my father, youd better say it. Otherwise, keep walking.
The mans gaze didnt waver. Your fathers fall wasnt just a matter of pride, boy. It was a fall into shadows deeper than you understand. Do you think youre ready to chase them? Fine. But dont say you werent warned.
Juliuss jaw tightened, but he forced himself to respond with a grin. Youre not the first person to tell me Im not ready. You think thats going to stop me?
No, the man said simply. But it might save your life.
The two locked eyes, the air between them tense and charged. Then, without another word, the man turned and began walking away. His cloak billowed faintly behind him as he disappeared down the path.
Wait! Julius called after him. Who are you?
The man paused, glancing over his shoulder. Dre Royce. And if youre smart, boy, youll leave this to the dead.
Before Julius could respond, Dre vanished into the trees, his dark form melting into the morning shadows.
Julius sat frozen for a moment, his thoughts a whirlwind. The mans words lingered, but something else gnawed at himsomething stranger. That voice in his head, calm and precise, had returned during the encounter.
Efficient. Hed bait you with a feint, testing your reaction. Counter low if he overextends. Keep your stance neutral.
Julius shook his head, muttering under his breath. Fantastic. First day on the road, and Im already losing it.
He flicked the reins, urging Cricket forward. The crowd had dispersed, and Timber Falls faded behind him, swallowed by the rolling hills. The weight of his fathers legacy pressed heavier with every step, but he didnt falter.
Ill figure it out, he said quietly, his voice firm against the wind. And when I do, theyll remember the name Johnson.
The road stretched long and uncertain ahead, shadowed by whispers of the past and promises of a future yet to be claimed.
Chapter 2: "Every Road Has Its Puddle"
The road from Timber Falls wound through a valley lined with towering pines, their branches whispering secrets to the wind. Julius Johnson Jr. cast one final glance back at the village hed called home, its modest rooftops shrinking into the horizon. The scent of damp earth and resin filled the air, grounding him in the moment. His grip tightened on Crickets reins.
Dont look so eager, girl, he muttered, patting the bays sturdy neck. Its not like were galloping off to glory.
Truth be told, Julius wasnt ready to leave. The weight of the farewellshalf-hearted, awkward, and pityingstill clung to him. He needed one last conversation, one tether to his roots before the unknown swallowed him whole.
The creek was just as he remembered itits clear waters gurgling over smooth stones, framed by wildflowers and reeds. And there, perched on a rock with his trusty fishing pole, sat Old Nate. The mans sun-kissed face and silver-streaked beard were as familiar as the worn line he cast into the stream.
Figured youd be here, Julius said, crouching beside him. Trying to snag one more fish before I go?
Nate didnt look up, his gnarled fingers deftly tying a hook. Trying to avoid saying goodbye, he replied gruffly. Not my style, boy.
Julius chuckled, leaning back on his heels. Good. Im not big on tearful farewells, either.
The two sat in companionable silence, the babble of the creek filling the space between them. After a time, Nate spoke, his voice softer. Your father would be proud, you know.
Juliuss hand drifted to the hilt of the sword strapped across his back. You think so? Doesnt feel like it.
Nate turned to him, his eyes sharp beneath bushy brows. You think he was born a legend? He worked for it. Same as youll have to. That blade doesnt make you your father, boy. Its what you do with it that matters.
Julius nodded, swallowing hard. And what if Im not enough?
The old man clapped him on the shoulder, the gesture firm but reassuring. Then youll keep trying. Thats all any of us can do.
Julius smiled faintly, his throat tight. As he mounted Cricket and prepared to leave, he glanced back one last time. Youll still be here when I come back, right?
Nate waved him off, gruff as ever. Get moving, boy. The fish are already tired of listening to you.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
The sun climbed higher as the road twisted into a dense forest, the towering pines turning the trail into a tunnel of shifting light. The air grew cooler, the shadows deeper, and Crickets ears flicked forward as though catching some distant sound.
Julius felt the tension before he saw the cause. Three men stood in the middle of the path, their faces obscured by wide-brimmed hats. Each carried a weapona rusted axe, a cudgel, and a dagger that gleamed like venom in the dim light.
Well, well, the tallest of them drawled, stepping forward. His grin revealed a missing tooth. A young gentleman on a fine horse. Might be carrying something worth sharing.
Julius sighed, his hazel eyes scanning the scene. Let me guessroads closed, tolls due, and youre the friendly collectors?
The leaders grin widened. Smart lad. Makes this easier.
Sure does, Julius said, swinging down from Crickets saddle. Heres the thing, thoughIm broke.
The bandits exchanged confused glances, the leaders grin faltering. Julius took stock of their positions. The tall ones balance was off, his stance wide and unsteady. The axe-wielder leaned heavily to his left, favoring an injury. The youngest, clutching the dagger, couldnt hide the tremble in his hands.
Julius tilted his head. So, what now? Do we skip straight to the part where I embarrass you?
The leader snarled, raising his cudgel. Enough talking.
As the man lunged, Julius sidestepped easily, his hand darting to Crickets saddlebag. He yanked out a coil of rope and snapped it forward, tangling the leaders legs. The man hit the ground with a yelp.
Next? Julius asked, spinning the rope in a lazy circle.
The axe-wielder hesitated before charging. Julius dropped low, avoiding the wild swing, and thrust the leaders cudgel into the mans stomach. He doubled over with a groan, collapsing in the dirt.
Julius turned to the youngest bandit, who stood frozen, the dagger shaking in his grip. Youve got two options, Julius said, his tone calm but firm. Drop the knife and go home, or try your luck and regret it.
The boys wide eyes flicked to his fallen companions. After a tense moment, he dropped the dagger and bolted into the trees.
Julius exhaled, tossing the cudgel aside. He turned to Cricket, who watched the scene with what Julius swore was a look of judgment.
Dont start, he muttered, climbing into the saddle. Not every fight needs a sword.
The road stretched long and uncertain ahead, the shadows growing shorter as the sun climbed higher. The bandits groans faded into the distance, leaving Julius alone once more. He couldnt shake the unease that lingerednot from the fight, but from the voice in his head.
His stance is too wide. Exploit with a low feint, counter to the right flank.
It was sharp, detached, and disturbingly precise. Not his own thoughts. Not entirely.
Julius shook his head, muttering under his breath. Great. First day on the road, and Im already losing it.
Timber Falls was gone now, hidden behind hills and trees. All that lay ahead was the path to Leona, the weight of his fathers legacy pressing heavier with each step. Yet, despite the uncertainty, something burned within hima flicker of determination, stubborn and unyielding.
Ill prove it, Julius said aloud, his voice steady against the wind. A Johnson isnt just a name. Its a legacy.
The forest whispered no answer, only the steady rhythm of hooves on dirt as Julius rode toward whatever waited beyond the next bend.
Chapter 3: "The Gates of a Thousand Dreams"
The road to Leo City stretched like a thread through the tapestry of the kingdom, winding through rolling hills, sun-dappled valleys, and clusters of quiet farmsteads. For days, Julius rode in the rhythm of solitude, his only company the soft clip of Crickets hooves and the occasional rustle of wind in the grass. He should have felt at peace. Instead, a knot tightened in his chest with each mile closer to the capital.
The sprawling countryside began to shift, the wild edges of the kingdom giving way to signs of civilization. Neatly tended fields rolled into view, their crops swaying in perfect rows. Stone fences crisscrossed the land, marking boundaries where none had existed before. Villages dotted the horizon, their thatched roofs trailing smoke into the sky like timid signals. The air itself seemed to hum with changebusier, more hurried, as though the world itself leaned toward the city.
When Leo Citys spires finally breached the skyline, Julius pulled his horse to a stop. His breath caught in his throat. The city was vast, its sheer magnitude both thrilling and oppressive. Towering walls of seamless stone rose from the earth, their battlements cutting stark silhouettes against the sky. Above them, the spires stretched higher still, glinting like swords in the sunlight. Pennants of blue and gold fluttered from the towers, bearing the lion-and-laurel crest of Leona.
Wow, Julius muttered, a low whistle escaping his lips. He adjusted his grip on Crickets reins, his hazel eyes scanning the scene ahead. The city gates were enormous, their iron portcullis raised to allow a steady flow of people in and out. Guards, clad in gleaming armor, stood vigil at every post. Their positioning was flawlessevery interval precise, no blind spots left uncovered.
Wide gates for heavy traffic. Guards stationed in intervals of five meters. Efficient chokepoints. No clear route for stealth.
The assessment rose unbidden in Juliuss mind, clear and cold, as though someone else were dictating his thoughts. He frowned, shaking his head as though to dislodge the voice. It wasnt the first time this had happened, but it left him unsettled every time.
Thanks for the tactical briefing, he muttered under his breath, urging Cricket forward.
The road leading to the gates was a living river of activity. Merchants with heavily laden carts shouted over the clatter of wheels, their voices a symphony of bartering and demands. Farmers herded flocks of sheep and goats, their animals bleating discordantly. Children darted between wagons, their laughter mingling with the sharp notes of a bards lute. Julius found himself pulled into the current, the sheer energy of the crowd both invigorating and suffocating.
As he neared the gates, the noise reached a crescendo. The guards moved through the throng with practiced efficiency, inspecting papers, questioning travelers, and directing traffic. Their armor, polished to a high sheen, reflected the midday sun, and their blue-and-gold surcoats made them stand out like living banners.
When Juliuss turn came, a guard stepped forward, raising a gauntleted hand. He was tall and broad, his helmet obscuring most of his face, but his voice carried a tone of authority tempered with boredom. Name and purpose?
Julius dismounted, his boots crunching against the gravel as he adjusted his travel-stained cloak. Julius Johnson, he said, flashing what he hoped was a disarming smile. Im here to enroll at the Knight Academy. I hear youre looking for someone who excels at being average.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
The guards gaze swept over him, lingering on his worn boots, patched tunic, and the sword strapped to his back. A faint smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. The Academy? he repeated, disbelief heavy in his tone. Youre serious?
Deadly, Julius replied, matching the guards smirk. Though if this is the welcoming committee, I might need to reconsider.
The guard chuckled, though his amusement felt more like a predator sizing up its prey. Look at you, he said, stepping closer. Dont exactly scream knight material. Let me guesssome farmers boy with more guts than brains?
Behind him, a few other guards laughed, their chuckles low and biting. Julius placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. A farmer? How dare you, sir. Ill have you know Im a practitioner of advanced chicken-chasing and hay-hauling. Very prestigious.
The laughter died as the guards smirk hardened. He loomed over Julius now, his posture radiating authority. The Academys no place for dreamers, boy. Its for warriors. Youve got neither the skill nor the bloodline.
Something dark stirred within Julius. His fingers tightened on Crickets reins as a whisper slithered through his mind. Hes unarmored at the throat. A sharp thrust upward would silence him.
Julius forced himself to relax, pushing the intrusive thought aside. Instead, he tilted his head thoughtfully, his tone light. Tell mehow well does bloodline work against a sharp object? Asking for a friend.
The guards jaw tightened, his amusement gone. It seemed, for a moment, that he might escalate things further, but another voice cut through the tension.
Thats enough, Grell.
An older guard stepped forward, his lined face weathered but calm. His tone carried the quiet authority of someone who had seen too much to be impressed by petty displays of power. The boys no threat to the city.
Grell hesitated, then stepped back with a muttered curse. The older guard turned to Julius, his expression unreadable but not unkind. Youll find the Academy in the upper district. Gates close at sundown. Dont waste time.
Julius inclined his head, his voice thick with exaggerated politeness. Thank you, good sir. Ill be sure to mention your glowing hospitality in my memoirs.
With that, he led Cricket through the gates, ignoring the lingering chuckles behind him. His smirk was a mask for the irritation simmering beneath the surface.
Inside the city, the chaos of the gates gave way to a whirlwind of sights and sounds. The cobbled streets twisted in a labyrinth of bustling marketplaces, towering buildings, and alleys that seemed to stretch into shadowy infinity. Vendors shouted over one another, performers juggled knives to the delight of children, and the scent of roasted meat mingled with the stench of sewage.
Julius guided Cricket through the crowds, his eyes darting from sight to sight. It was overwhelming, the sheer scale of it allso much life packed into so little space.
Beautiful and exhausting, he muttered. Thats Leo City, I guess.
Yet beneath the citys vibrant energy, Julius saw cracks. Beggars huddled in alleyways, their eyes hollow and pleading. Pickpockets flitted through the throng like shadows, their hands quick and practiced. Even the merchants voices carried an edge of desperation, their smiles tight and weary.
Youll need to be sharper here, the voice whispered again, cool and clinical. The shadows arent empty.
Julius shook his head, muttering under his breath. Noted. Thanks for the motivational speech.
Ahead, the road split. One path wound upward toward the elegant spires of the upper district, where his future lay waiting. The other descended into the tangled depths of the lower city, its noise and shadows tugging at his curiosity.
Focus, he told himself, steering Cricket toward the upper road. Academy first. Then I can worry about the rest.
As the noise of the lower city faded behind him, Julius straightened his back. The spires loomed closer, their grandeur promising trials that would test more than his skill with a blade.
Time to see if Ive got what it takes, he murmured, determination and uncertainty warring in his voice.
With that, he pressed onward, letting Leo City swallow him whole.
Chapter 4: Betray the World
The alleys of Leo City twisted like veins beneath the golden spires of its towersnarrow, winding paths a world apart from the grandeur above. The stench of damp stone, cooking fires, and unwashed humanity filled the air, but these streets smelled like home to Shane.
Here, he wasnt Prince Shane of Leona, twin to Edward and shadow to his legacy. Here, he was Sean, leader of the Cobble Kidsa ragtag gang of orphans, pickpockets, and misfits who had claimed the city''s forgotten corners as their own. These streets respected cunning over titles, loyalty over blood, and survival above all else. And for a boy who had fled the suffocating expectations of the palace, that was enough.
Shane perched on the edge of a crumbling rooftop, his dark cloak billowing in the breeze. His twin daggers rested comfortably at his sides, the worn grips like old friends in his hands. From his vantage point, he watched the alleys below, his sharp eyes tracking the flow of the city. The air felt... wrong. Restless. The usual rhythm of the streets seemed off, and Shane trusted his instincts. Theyd saved his life too many times to ignore.
Years ago, Shane was just a scared boy running from the weight of the crown. The slums had been cruel, stripping him of any illusions about the world. It wasnt the palace courts that taught him survivalit was Calico Jack, the king of Leo Citys underworld. Jack had been a legend: part thief, part conman, and wholly dangerous. He saw potential in Shane whereas others saw a naive runaway. Under Jacks tutelage, Shane learned to move unseen, read people with a glance, and turn any situation to his advantage.
Trust is a blade, Jack had told him once, flipping a coin idly. It cuts deep, and it always cuts both ways. If you want to survive, kid, you betray the world before it betrays you.
For years, Shane lived by that creed. Jack was his mentor, his savioruntil he wasnt. Jacks ambition eventually turned dark, and he began to see Shane less as a protg and more as a tool. When Jack tries to use Shanes royal bloodline in a scheme that nearly exposes his identity, Shane confronts him. Jacks response was chillingly simple.
Everyones got a price, Shane, Jack had said with a smirk. Even you.
That night, Shane walked away, vowing to carve out his path. Yet Jacks lessons stayed with him, a ghost haunting every decision he made. Even now, as the leader of the Cobble Kids, Shane wrestled with the man Jack had tried to make himand the man he wanted to be.
Dropping silently from the rooftop, Shane landed in the shadowed alley with practiced ease. The Cobble Kids were already waiting for him, huddled in the hidden courtyard they called home. Their faces, young but hardened, lit up when they saw him. To these kids, Shane wasnt a prince or a relic of Calico Jacks pasthe was their leader, their protector.
Sean! Lacey, one of the youngest, ran up to him, her small hands clutching his cloak. Her wide eyes brimmed with fear. The Watch has been asking questions again. Theyre looking for someone.
Shane crouched to her level, his voice calm and steady. What kind of questions, Lace?
She glanced nervously at the others before whispering, Something about the knights. And... the Academy.
Shanes jaw tightened. The Academy meant Edwardhis twin, his other half, and the embodiment of everything Shane had left behind. The upper citys problems always bled into the slums eventually, and he couldnt shake the feeling that whatever this was, it was bigger than usual.
Alright, Shane said, ruffling Laceys hair. Keep your ears open, but stay out of sight. Let me handle the rest.
The Cobble Kids dispersed, disappearing into the maze of alleys with practiced ease. Shane stayed behind, his mind racing. The Watch sniffing around the slums was never good news, but if they were asking about the knights, it meant troubleand trouble always found him.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Shane slipped through the alleys like a shadow, his movements silent and deliberate. His instincts, honed under Jacks brutal tutelage, kept him one step ahead of the citys chaos. As he turned a corner, he froze. Ahead of him, a boy about his age stood beside a horse, his posture tense and uncertain.
The boy was tall, with travel-worn clothes that marked him as an outsider. A sword hung across his back, its worn scabbard hinting at use but not mastery. Yet it wasnt the blade that caught Shanes attentionit was the look in the boys eyes. Determined, but uncertain. Like someone searching for answers in a world that refused to give them.
Shane stepped out of the shadows, his voice light and teasing. Lost, are we?
The boy spun, his hand darting instinctively to the hilt of his sword. Shane raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin tugging at his lips. Relax. Im not here to rob you. Not unless youve got something worth stealing, of course.
The boy frowned, but there was a flicker of amusement in his hazel eyes. What, the sword doesnt scream Im broke loud enough? he asked dryly.
Shane chuckled, deciding he liked this one. Fair point. But you do have this whole clueless traveler vibe going on. So, who are you, and why are you wandering the alleys like someone out of a bad bards tale?
Julius, the boy replied, his tone cautious. And Im not wandering. Im... assessing my options.
Assessing your Shane raised an eyebrow, but Julius cut him off.
Exactly. And youre what, my next one? Whats your deal?
Shane leaned against the wall, his grin widening. Names Sean. And you look like someone who needs a guide.
Julius tilted his head, studying Shane with surprising sharpness. His eyes flicked over the daggers at Shanes belt, the faint calluses on his hands, the easy way he carried himself.
Fast. Prefers agility. Daggers for quick strikes. Not a swordsman.
The thought came unbidden, sharp, and clinical, and Julius shoved it aside, focusing on the boy in front of him. Im looking for the Knight Academy, he said finally. Think you can point me in the right direction?
Shane laughed. The Academy? Ambitious. You dont exactly scream knight material.
Julius smirked. Oh? And what does a knight-in-training look like? Polished armor, noble lineage, and a complete inability to navigate a city?
Something like that, Shane said, pushing off the wall. But sure. Ill take you to the Academy. On one condition.
Julius folded his arms. Let me guess. Money.
Nah, Shane said with a wink. Dinner. Youre buying.
Julius sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. Fine. Lead on, oh gracious alley guide.
As they moved through the winding streets, Shane couldnt help but smile. There was something about Julius that intrigued hima wit as sharp as his blade, and a purpose he hadnt quite figured out yet. For now, Shane decided, helping this boy might be worth the risk.
But in the back of his mind, Jacks voice whispered, a ghost of the past. Betray the world before it betrays you.
Shane shook it off, determined to prove that, just this once, Jack might have been wrong.
The wind carved through the training grounds, sharp and biting, carrying the scent of frost from the northern mountains. Edward Leona stood in the center of the sprawling field, a lone figure amidst the expanse of cold stone and dormant grass. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on the horizon, his stance poised and steady, but his thoughts churned beneath the surface like a storm.
In his hand was his sword, a masterpiece of craftsmanship. It had been with him through countless trialsa weapon perfectly balanced, its blade honed to lethal precision. Yet as Edward turned the hilt over in his hand, the polished steel catching the pale morning light, it felt hollow. It was a symbol of his legacy, of the expectations that shackled him, and it seemed to mock the doubt growing within him.
He thought back to his time in Xing, where the air was thinner, the peaks sharper, and the weight of his lineage had felt momentarily lifted. There, amidst the serene mountain temples, he had learned more than swordsmanship. He had learned balance. The warriors of Xing had taught him that strength was not simply force; it was a harmony between body, mind, and purpose.
For the first time, Edward had glimpsed a world where his title did not define him. But freedom was fleeting.
The gates of Leo City had welcomed him back with fanfare, the citizens hailing his return as a triumph. His father, King Arthur D. Leona VI, had stood tall on the palace steps, a proud yet distant figure as parades honored his golden son. To the kingdom, Edward was their Blade of Justice, a paragon of honor and duty.
To himself, he was unsure.
The weight of Leona''s name pressed on him like armor too tight to remove. It suffocated him, whispering that doubt was weakness, that hesitation was a sin. The cheers of the crowd had faded quickly into the deafening silence of his thoughts.
Chapter 5: "Even the Brightest Sword Casts a Shadow"
The morning light filtered through the royal gardens as Edward strolled beside Cordelia Silverly, his fiance and the epitome of noble composure. Her voice, smooth and even, carried on about the upcoming festival preparations. The dappled sunlight caught in her golden hair, and her sapphire-blue eyes flicked toward him with every word.
To make the festival memorable, well need your presence front and center, Cordelia said, her tone carrying the weight of expectation. After all, what is a festival without its prince?
Edward didnt reply immediately, his attention drifting to the intricate patterns of shadow and light that danced along the cobblestones. Her words flowed past him, distant and muffled, until she finally stopped and looked at him, her gaze sharp.
Edward, she said, a faint edge to her voice. Are you even listening?
He forced himself to focus, his expression unreadable. Of course, he replied, his voice steady. Every word.
Cordelias lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes searching his face for cracks in his facade. She always had a way of saying things that felt both supportive and suffocating. Cordelia was perfecttoo perfect, as though her every move had been rehearsed. To the court, she was an ideal match for Edward, poised to ascend the throne as queen. To Edward, she was a stranger wrapped in silken armor.
They continued their walk, their steps falling into rhythm. But as the sunlight shifted, a strange sensation crept over Edward. It was subtle at first, a faint prickle of awareness at the base of his skull. The cadence of Cordelias voice, the way the shadows stretched across the pathit all felt too familiar as if he had walked this path before. Yet something was off, like a note played out of tune.
And then it camean image, sharp and vivid, flashing across his mind.
Cordelia stood beneath the boughs of an oak tree, her expression tense. A figure cloaked in shadow faced her, their face obscured. She leaned in, her voice low, urgent.
it must be done before the festival
A glint of silvera small object, quickly concealed within the folds of the figures cloak.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
no mistakes.
The vision vanished as abruptly as it came, leaving Edward disoriented. He blinked, the gardens snapping back into focus. Cordelia was beside him, her expression serene, her steps measured. There was no sign that she had noticed anything amiss.
Edwards heart raced. The images had felt so real, so immediate. He had experienced moments like this beforeglimpses of something unexplainable, fragments of events that hadnt yet come to pass. But this time, the vision left him shaken.
Edward? Cordelias voice broke through his thoughts, her gaze turning to him. Is something wrong?
He forced his features into a mask of calm. Nothing at all, he said lightly. Just tired.
Cordelias eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, her expression unreadable. The festival is important, she said at last. Youll need to be at your best.
Her words were simple, yet they rang with a weight Edward couldnt ignore. He glanced at her, trying to decipher the guarded tone beneath her usual composure. Lately, Cordelia had been... different. More distant. More deliberate. His instincts, sharpened by years of training and intuition, screamed that something was wrong.
Are you sure everythings alright? he asked, his voice quieter now.
Cordelia turned to him, her sapphire eyes cool and steady. Of course, she said, her tone effortlessly calm. Why wouldnt it be?
But Edward could feel the distance in her answer. The echoes of the vision played in his mindher hushed tones, the shadowed figure, the glint of silver. A knot tightened in his chest. He couldnt shake the feeling that she was hiding something, that she was part of a puzzle he wasnt meant to solve.
Later, Edward stood alone at the edge of the training grounds, the wind tugging at his cloak. He held the sword in his hand, its familiar weight grounding him. But the doubt that coiled within him was heavier still.
He had always believed the blade to be a symbol of his purpose. It had guided him through battles, and anchored him in moments of uncertainty. Yet now, as the visions and questions gnawed at him, the sword felt... insufficient.
Reaching into his cloak, Edward withdrew a letter from Ann Xing, the princess of the distant mountain kingdom. Her words were a balm to his restless thoughts.
I miss our talks and the quiet moments we shared. Things have become complicated here, but I will write as often as I can. Until then, be safe. Yours, Ann Xing.
Ann had seen him as more than a crown, more than a role to fulfill. With her, he had found moments of clarity, of peace. But she was miles away, and here, the storm within him only grew.
The wind carried the faint hum of the city below, mingling with the whispers of the past and the heavy silence of the training grounds. Edward clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword.
The flashes of Cordelia and the shadowy figure returned, fragments of a mystery he couldnt yet piece together. Something was comingsomething that would test him in ways the blade alone could not.
For the first time, Edward doubted whether he was ready.
Chapter 6: “The Blade Is Not Enough”
The labyrinthine alleys of Leo City wound endlessly, their dim passageways carved through towering stone buildings that loomed like silent sentinels. The golden light of day was retreating, leaving the city painted in shades of gray and amber as the first stars began to emerge. Shanestill insisting everyone call him Seanled Julius through the narrow streets with the practiced ease of someone born to the shadows.
Almost there, Shane said, tossing a grin over his shoulder. Keep up, Johnson. Wouldnt want you missing your grand entrance.
Julius followed, his boots echoing softly against the cobblestones as the two of them moved through the dimming streets. The air buzzed with quiet energy as if the Academy itself exhaled with the approaching night. Shadows stretched long across the walls, broken by the occasional torchlight, and for a moment, Julius felt like an outsider peering into a world that wasnt his to claim. Each step brought him closer to the weight of expectationto the legacy he carried and the uncertainty that clung to it like a shroud. But there was no turning back now.
Shane guided him to a narrow alcove that overlooked a wide courtyard just outside the Academys towering walls. The spires loomed above the city like gilded spears, their banners catching the evening wind. The sight made Juliuss chest tighten. Here, knights were forged. Legends were made.
Before Julius could speak, a sharp, cold voice rang out, cutting through the shadows.
Youre wasting your time.
Julius turned sharply, his muscles tensing. A figure stepped into the light, emerging from the alleys shadows with a grace that made his movements seem almost predatory. The boy was tall and carried himself with an ease Julius immediately hatedcalm, calculated, and arrogant. His polished white robes, trimmed with gold, marked him as someone important, but it was his face that set Julius on edge. Blonde hair framed sharp features, and his piercing blue eyes cut through Julius like shards of ice.
Youre blocking the view, Julius said, trying to keep his tone steady.
The boy smirked faintly, the gesture both amused and dismissive. No, Im saving you the trouble. You dont belong here.
Juliuss brows furrowed. I dont recall asking for your opinion.
Im giving it anyway. The boy stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over Julius like a hawk studying prey. Youre whatsome farmer boy with a stolen sword and big dreams? Let me guess. You thought youd knock on the Academy gates, swing that oversized blade around, and theyd throw open the doors.
Juliuss grip tightened on his sword. And you are?
Edward Leona. His voice was smooth and confident. Maybe youve heard of me.
The name dropped like a hammer, and Juliuss chest clenched. Edward Leona. The prince. The Blade of Justice. The heir to the throne. Of course, Julius had heard of him.
Prince Edward, Julius said, forcing the words through gritted teeth. Must be nice to stand there judging people when everythings already been handed to you.
Something flickered across Edwards expression, but it vanished in an instant. You think its been handed to me? he said coolly. You have no idea what it means to carry a legacy like mine. But you? Youre just herea distraction, wasting everyones time.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Julius took a step forward, his temper fraying. You dont know anything about me.
And I dont need to, Edward shot back. Its written all over you. Your grip is sloppy. Your stance is wrong. That sword might look impressive, but it wont make you a knight.
Juliuss blood boiled. He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, Edwards arrogance driving his frustration to a breaking point. Then why dont you prove it?
Edward raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning wolfish. Youre challenging me?
Julius didnt hesitate. Unless youre afraid to lose.
The taunt landed exactly as Julius intended. Edwards gaze sharpened, and with a smooth motion, he drew his sword. Its gleaming blade reflected the fading light, arcs of purple lightning crackling along its edge. The air hummed with power.
Very well, Edward said, his tone turning dangerous. Ill show you what a knight looks like.
Julius unsheathed his fathers sword, the steel ringing out as it cleared the scabbard. His heart pounded, but his focus narrowed. This wasnt just about Edward. This was about proving himselfto the prince, to the Academy, and to anyone else who dared dismiss him.
Edward moved first, his sword cutting through the air in a clean, precise arc. Julius met it with his blade, the clash of steel ringing out like a bell. The force of the blow sent vibrations up Juliuss arms, but he held his ground. He countered with a wide swing, raw and forceful, but Edward sidestepped it with infuriating ease.
Youre too slow, Edward said, his voice calm. He struck again, his blade a blur of precision. Julius blocked and stumbled back, sweat prickling his brow.
Stop talking and fight, Julius growled.
Edwards smirk deepened. Fine.
He pressed his attack, moving with a grace and speed Julius couldnt match. Each strike was deliberate, each step perfectly calculated. Julius swung wildly, his frustration mounting as his strikes met nothing but air.
Sloppy. Predictable, Edward said, dodging another blow. Youre not thinking. Youre just swinging.
Juliuss chest heaved as Edward knocked his blade aside with a swift parry. Before Julius could react, Edward stepped inside his guard and drove the pommel of his sword into Juliuss ribs. Pain exploded through his side, and Julius staggered, barely managing to keep his footing.
Is this all youve got? Edward said, his voice colder now. If this is the best you can do, you dont belong anywhere near the Academy.
Julius clenched his teeth, rage flaring in his chest. The calm, detached voice returned in his mind.
Focus. Adjust your stance. Dont let him bait you.
He took a breath, centering himself, and lunged again, this time with more control. Edwards blade still met his every strike, but Julius forced him to move, to react. For a moment, Julius thought he saw Edwards smirk falter.
Then Edwards blade crackled with lightning, and the world seemed to slow. Youre done.
The lightning surged forward, striking Julius square in the chest. The force hurled him backward, his fathers sword slipping from his hand as he hit the ground hard. Pain seared through his body, and for a moment, he couldnt breathe.
Edward stood over him, his sword at his side. Stay down, he said, his voice quiet. This is over.
But Julius gritted his teeth and pushed himself onto his knees. His body shook with exhaustion and pain, but he refused to yield. He reached for his sword, his hazel eyes burning with defiance.
Im not done yet, he rasped.
Edwards gaze lingered on him for a moment, a flicker of somethingsurprise, perhaps?crossing his face. But before either could move, a sharp voice cut through the courtyard.
Thats enough!
The commanding presence of Lance Royce stepped into the fray, his armor gleaming in the fading light. He surveyed the scene, his gray eyes narrowing.
Prince Edward, Lance said evenly, explain yourself.
Edward sheathed his blade with a flick. This fool challenged me. I was merely putting him in his place.
Lances gaze shifted to Julius, who was still on his knees, chest heaving. Name.
Julius Johnson, Julius managed, his voice hoarse.
Something flickered in Lances expression, but it was gone in an instant. Get up, he said, extending a hand. Youre coming with me.
Edward stiffened. What are you doing, Royce?
Following orders, Lance replied, his tone curt. He guided Julius away, leaving Edward standing alone, the tension lingering like a stormcloud.
As Lance led him from the courtyard, Julius gripped his sword tightly, his mind racing. He hadnt won, but he hadnt broken either. Edward Leona might have knocked him down, but Julius swore to himself that this was only the beginning.
Ill close the gap, he thought. And Ill prove I belong here.
Chapter 7: “The Blade of Justice”
The cold wind curled through Leo City, sweeping through its labyrinthine alleys and carrying with it the scent of oil and stone. The streets were alive with the hum of the eveningmerchants calling out last-minute deals, bards plucking cheerful tunes that fought against the settling gloom, and guards marching at precise intervals. Edward Leona moved through it all like an arrow loosed toward its mark, his polished boots clicking sharply against the cobblestones.
Beside him, Shane slunk through the shadows like a phantom, his light footsteps nearly silent despite the weight of his ever-present smirk. The younger prince thrived in Leo Citys underbelly, where alleys twisted and secrets festered. Edward had little patience for it, but tonight, something gnawed at his thoughts like a splinter under his skin.
Where do you think youre going this time? Edward snapped, his tone cutting through the noise of the streets.
Shane stopped just long enough to glance over his shoulder, his grin spreading wide. Oh, you know me, Ed. Always out making friends. He swept his hand dramatically to encompass the alleys crumbling walls. Figured you could use some excitement. A little air away from the golden cage.
Edward narrowed his eyes. Enough games, Shane. Why drag me out here? What is this about?
Shane sighed theatrically, spinning to walk backward as he watched Edward. You need to relax. Youre going to get wrinkles before youre twenty. His tone softened slightly. Its about Julius Johnson.
At the name, Edwards steps slowed. The memory of their fight at the Academy gates was still freshJuliuss unrefined swings, his reckless tenacity, his refusal to stay down. Edward had thought him just another hopeful fool. But then Lance Royce had appeared and taken the boy inside the Academys walls. Why?
What about him? Edward asked though the question tasted bitter on his tongue.
The streets are buzzing, Shane replied. Farm boy with a sword too fine for his hands challenges the prince of Leona, then gets a personal escort from Lance Royce? That doesnt happen by accident, Ed.
Edwards jaw clenched. It doesnt matter. Hes a nobody.
Is he, though? Shane tilted his head, his expression unusually serious. A nobody doesnt make people talk. A nobody doesnt carry that kind of attention.
Edwards mind whirred, but he shook off the thought. If youre trying to tell me the boys some hidden hero, save your breath. The Academy sorts fools from knights soon enough.
Maybe, Shane said. But heres the part youll love. Father met with him. Privately.
Edward stopped mid-stride. What did you say?
You heard me. Shanes grin returned, sharp and knowing. Lance brought Julius straight to the throne room. Father doesnt meet with just anyone. But apparently, your new friend is special.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
The words struck Edward like a physical blow. His fatherthe kingdidnt waste his time on nobodies. If Julius Johnson had caught his attention, there was a reason. And that reason, Edward knew, wouldnt stay hidden for long.
Show me, Edward said, his voice low.
Shane raised an eyebrow. What, youre curious? Didnt peg you for the type to crawl through dust and shadows.
Edwards glare was answer enough. Move.
With a shrug, Shane led the way.
The Knight Academys halls were quiet as night fell, the torches casting long, flickering shadows across the stone walls. Shane guided Edward through a hidden passageway he had discovered years agoa narrow crawlspace that led to an alcove overlooking the throne room. Edward hated the dust, the tight walls, the feeling of moving unseen. But tonight, curiosity outweighed pride.
Try not to sneeze, Shane whispered as they crouched in the alcoves shadow.
Below, the vast throne room stretched out, illuminated by rows of flickering torches. It was a space built to intimidatethe marble floors polished to a mirror sheen, the pillars carved with golden lions, the royal crest sprawling beneath the massive throne.
Standing at the center of it all, small yet defiant against the grandeur, was Julius Johnson. His light brown skin glowed faintly in the firelight, his black hair tousled from travel. Though he wore the garb of a farmerpatched trousers, worn boots, and a plain tuniche stood tall, his sword strapped firmly across his back. The blade looked heavy, an heirloom of finer make than his station suggested.
Beside Julius stood Lance Royce, his armor gleaming with an almost unnatural sharpness, as though the steel itself sensed its owners authority. And seated before them, atop the gilded throne, was King Arthur D. Leona VI.
Edwards breath caught. His father rarely held audiences this late, and certainly not for boys from nowhere villages.
Julius Johnson, King Arthur said, his deep voice filling the chamber. Youve come far to seek the Academy.
Julius nodded stiffly, meeting the kings gaze. I have, Your Majesty.
And what is it you seek?
To prove myself. Juliuss voice was steady, though Edward could see the tension in his shoulders. Ive been told my whole life what I cant do. Im here to show what I can.
Edwards eyes narrowed. Arrogant fool.
The kings gaze lingered on the boy for a moment before flickering to the sword at his back. That blade, he said softly. Your fathers, I presume?
Julius flinched, but he didnt look away. It was his, yes. But its mine now.
Edwards heart gave an uneasy lurch. The boy was carrying his fathers sword? His fathers name? A legacy that should have died with Julius Johnson Sr.?
Lance spoke next, his voice measured. Sire, the boy has potential. Hes unpolished, but hes strong.
Arthur leaned back in his throne, his expression unreadable. Potential is a dangerous thing, Sir Royce. And strength without control is merely chaos.
Edward almost smirked at that.
But Julius didnt flinch. Then Ill learn control, he said simply.
The room fell silent, heavy with the weight of the kings scrutiny. Finally, Arthur rose to his feet, his shadow stretching across the marble floor.
Very well, he said. You will have your chance. Lance, see to it that he is enrolled at the Academy.
Juliuss eyes widened with something Edward couldnt quite placerelief, maybe, or determination. He bowed stiffly. Thank you, Your Majesty.
Edward turned to Shane, whispering furiously, Hes letting him in? Why?
Guess he sees something in him, Shane murmured.
Below, Lance placed a hand on Juliuss shoulder, guiding him toward the chamber doors. Edwards father remained on the throne, his expression unshifting, but something about the scene unsettled Edward deeply.
As the throne room emptied, Shanes voice broke the silence. Still think hes a nobody?
Edward didnt answer. He didnt need to. Julius Johnson wasnt a nobody. Not anymore.
And Edward would make sure to find out why.
Chapter 8: “Born Good or Overcome”
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting jagged shadows over the Knight Academys towering stone walls. The vast training grounds, once alive with the shouts and clang of sparring trainees, were now a silent expanse under the deepening twilight. Aria Chase stood at the center, her compact, muscular frame a stark figure against the emptiness. The warm glow of her brown skin caught the last golden light, but her sharp green eyes smoldered with frustration and determination.
She raised her fists, encased in massive stone gauntlets that grew and cracked with her every motion. Each swing sent tremors through the ground, rippling outward in defiance of the quiet. The gauntlets were her connection to her Giants blood, the raw power her father had infused into her to save her life. To most, theyd be a burden; to Aria, they were a promisea reminder of the strength she was meant to wield.
Her strikes grew sharper, angrier, as her mind replayed the confrontation with Cordelia Silverly a few days earlier.
It had been a bright afternoon in the training yard, but Cordelias presence darkened the space like a storm cloud. The heiress of the Silverly family moved through the Academy as though she owned it, her flawless blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and her icy blue eyes glinting with haughty amusement. That day, she had set her sights on Aria.
Chase, Cordelia called, her voice saccharine yet dripping with malice. Her entourage of well-dressed cronies stood behind her, their sneers ready to echo her every insult. Ive been meaning to askhow do you manage to lug all that stone around? Compensating for something, maybe?
Aria remained silent, her face an impassive mask. She had learned long ago that responding to Cordelia only gave her satisfaction.
Oh, still nothing to say? Cordelia took a step closer, her height giving her an unearned air of superiority. I suppose its for the best. Everyone knows you dont belong here. No amount of effort will ever make you one of us.
The snickers from her entourage stoked the fire in Arias chest, but she refused to give in. She wouldnt give Cordelia the pleasure of seeing her falter.
Cordelias voice dropped to a cutting whisper. I wonder what your father thinks, knowing his daughter is such a failure. The great General Torid Chase, with a daughter who cant even control her own strength. How many times have you lost control in this yard, Chase? Imagine the shame he must feel.
Arias fists clenched, the earth beneath her feet shifting in response to her fury. Her fathers legacy was a double-edged sword, one she carried with pride and pain. General Torid Chase, the Knight General of Leona, had given everything to save her life, fusing her with the blood of giants. That sacrifice had cost her mother her life and left Aria with the constant pressure to justify it. Every failure felt like a betrayal of that sacrifice.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Straightening her back, Aria fixed Cordelia with a steady gaze. Her voice was calm but firm. Youre right. Ill never be like you. I dont need to be. I work for what I have. You wouldnt last a day in my shoes.
Cordelias laughter was cruel and hollow. Youre right. I wouldnt. Too much failure to carry. She turned on her heel, her cronies following with mocking smiles, leaving Aria alone in the yard.
Now, as the memory faded, Aria slammed her stone-covered fists into the ground, shattering the gauntlets into jagged fragments. The impact sent dust rising into the cold air, but it wasnt enough to shake Cordelias voice from her mind.
Arias thoughts drifted to the dagger shed found days ago. It had been late, the training yard deserted, when shed stumbled upon it. At first, it had been hidden beneath a loose stone, its ornate hilt glinting faintly in the moonlight. As soon as her fingers brushed the weapon, a strange chill ran through her. The dagger was unlike anything shed seena dark blade etched with an unfamiliar symbol: a sun shrouded in wings of shadow.
The air around it had felt heavier, almost alive with a foreboding energy. It wasnt a standard Academy weapon. It felt wrong like it didnt belong here at all. Aria had pocketed it quickly, a sense of unease prickling at her neck. The Academy had been abuzz with rumors of assassination plots and unrest, and the presence of such a weapon seemed too coincidental.
Who had left it there? And more importantly, why?
Her fathers voice echoed in her memory, a reminder of the path she walked. Your strength is a gift, Aria, he had told her. But strength without control is nothing. The world will test you, and you must be ready.
The dagger felt like one of those tests. But was it a warning? A trap? A threat aimed at her, her father, or someone else entirely?
She slammed her fists together, re-forming the stone gauntlets. Cordelias taunts and the mystery of the dagger intertwined in her mind, fueling her resolve. If the rumors of assassination were true, she had to act. The instructors wouldnt take her seriously without proof, and the trainees were as likely to spread gossip as they were to help her. No, this was her burden to carry.
Aria thought again of her father, of the legacy he had entrusted to her. His blood ran through her veins, but that alone wasnt enough. She couldnt rely on her lineage or her strength alone. She had to prove herselfto herself, to her fathers memory, and to the world that doubted her at every turn.
Her fists stilled, the stone crumbling away as she exhaled slowly. Her grip tightened around the dagger, its cold weight a reminder of the storm looming on the horizon.
Cordelias mocking voice echoed in her mind once more. Youll never be enough.
Aria smirked, her green eyes blazing with defiance. I dont need to be enough. I just need to be stronger than you.
As the last light of day slipped away and shadows cloaked the Academy, Aria turned toward the dormitories. She would find answersabout the dagger, about the whispers of assassination, about the zealots who might be working in the shadows. And when the storm broke, she would face it head-on.
She wasnt born good. She wasnt born noble. But she had been born to fight.
And fight she would.
Chapter 9: “All Men Are Made of the Same Clay”
The sun hung low over the Knight Academy, casting long shadows across the sprawling campus. The stone towers glowed faintly under the warm light, their banners fluttering proudly in the breeze. Trainees gathered in clusters across the central courtyard, their voices a steady hum of anticipation. For most, this was the moment theyd been waiting forthe announcement of team assignments, the beginning of their journey toward knighthood.
Julius Johnson leaned against a stone pillar on the edge of the crowd, arms crossed as he observed the scene. The heavy ache in his muscles from the mornings sparring session served as a reminder that the Academy wasnt designed for comfort. Every day had been a grueling test, both physically and mentally. Yet the whispers and sidelong glances from other trainees felt like a test of a different kind. The sword strapped to his backthe infamous blade of Julius Johnson Sr.made him stand out more than he liked.
Team assignments are up! someone shouted, and a wave of movement rippled through the crowd. Trainees surged toward the announcement board, eager to see where they would land. Julius stayed put, letting the tide of excitement sweep past him. He wasnt in a rush.
Better see where I landed, he muttered, pushing off the pillar and weaving through the thinning crowd.
As he approached the board, his eyes immediately caught the familiar figure of Edward Leona. The prince stood a short distance away, posture as rigid as ever, his ice-blue eyes scanning the list with precise focus. Everything about Edward radiated commandthe immaculate tailoring of his white and gold Academy uniform, the gleaming sword at his hip, and the faint aura of electricity that seemed to hum around him. Of course, hes probably leading the perfect team, Julius thought sourly.
Nearby, Shaneor Sean, as he insisted on being calledlounged against a low wall, wearing his usual smug grin. Shane had a knack for looking utterly unbothered, even in the chaos of the Academy. It was an attitude Julius found simultaneously irritating and begrudgingly impressive. He could already tell that Shane was the type to thrive on mischief and spontaneity, two qualities Julius didnt exactly trust.
When Julius finally reached the list, he let his finger trail down the parchment until it stopped on his name. His stomach sank.
Team 4: Julius Johnson, Edward Leona, Aria Chase, Shane Leona.
Oh, youve got to be kidding me, Julius muttered.
Charming reaction, came a familiar, clipped voice. Julius turned to see Edward standing beside him, arms crossed, his piercing gaze as cold as ever. Let me guessyoure surprised they assigned you to a team at all.
Julius forced a grin, though it didnt reach his eyes. Not surprised. Just disappointed Im stuck with you.
Edward raised an eyebrow, his expression unamused. Likewise, he said coolly, brushing past Julius to stand in front of the group.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Julius sighed and turned as another figure approached. Aria Chase moved with deliberate intensity, her sharp green eyes scanning the list. She exuded a quiet power, her muscular frame hinting at the raw strength she wielded through her Giants blood. Her presence was commanding, but Julius couldnt help noticing the faint tension in her movements, as if she was holding herself back.
Youve got to be kidding me, Aria muttered, echoing Juliuss earlier sentiment. Her gaze flicked between him and Edward before settling on Shane, who ambled up last with a grin.
This is our team? Aria asked, her tone sharp and skeptical.
Relax, Chase, Shane said, his grin widening as he glanced at the list. Looks like a solid lineup to me. Weve got Prince Perfect, the Strongest Stonebreaker, Farm Boy Extraordinaire, and methe wild card.
Arias glare could have withered stone. If youre the wild card, were doomed.
Shane leaned closer to her, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. Oh, come on. Admit ityoure at least a little curious to see how this train wreck unfolds.
Aria ignored him and turned to Edward, crossing her arms. I assume youre in charge? Her tone was flat, but her stance dared him to argue.
Edward nodded sharply. Obviously.
Obviously? Julius raised an eyebrow, stepping forward. Did we vote on that while I wasnt looking?
Edward turned to face him fully, his expression like ice. This isnt a democracy, Johnson. The Academy appoints leaders based on merit, discipline, and skill. I doubt you qualify.
Julius felt his temper flare but managed to rein it in. You sure that stick youre carrying isnt a weapon?
Shane laughed loudly, clapping Julius on the shoulder. Oh, this is going to be fun.
Enough, Aria cut in, her voice firm and commanding. I dont care whos in charge. Just stay out of my way, all of you.
Glad were off to a great start, Julius muttered under his breath.
Before the tension could escalate further, a loud bell tolled from the tower, silencing the chatter in the courtyard. All eyes turned toward the figure stepping into viewa towering man with broad shoulders and a scar running down his left cheek. His armor clinked softly as he moved, and his sharp eyes scanned the crowd with the precision of a blade. This was Eckhart, one of the Academys most respected instructors, known for his no-nonsense demeanor and brutal training methods.
Teams, Eckhart barked, his gravelly voice cutting through the noise. Gather at the training grounds. Your first trial begins now.
The crowd began to disperse, the buzz of excitement replaced by a growing tension. Julius exchanged a glance with his new teammates, the weight of their assignment sinking in. Whatever this trial was, it would be their first test as a teamand their first opportunity to fail.
As they walked toward the training grounds, the silence among Team 4 was heavy, broken only by the distant clang of weapons and the murmurs of other trainees.
Youre awfully quiet, Your Highness, Julius said, glancing at Edward. Not feeling inspirational?
Edward didnt break stride. Save your energy, Johnson. Youll need it.
Wow, Shane said, feigning shock. He made a joke. Or was that a threat? Hard to tell with all the brooding.
Focus, Aria snapped, her voice cutting through their banter. If were going to get through this, we need to work together.
Julius raised an eyebrow. You mean work under Edwards glorious leadership?
Aria glared at him. No, I mean dont screw it up for the rest of us.
Shane chuckled softly. Chase, you really know how to bring people together.
The tension among them lingered as they arrived at the training grounds, where Eckhart waited with an imposing presence. The trial ahead was unknown, but one thing was certainthis team had a long way to go before they could truly call themselves one.
Chapter 10: “Steel Is Not Strong, Flesh Is Strong”
The midday sun bore down mercilessly on the Knight Academys training grounds, baking the stone floor until it seemed to radiate heat. Julius wiped the sweat from his brow, his chest tight with anticipation as he stood at the arena''s edge. Around him, Team 4 was gatheredEdward standing like a marble statue of confidence, Aria radiating raw strength, and Shane smirking as if the upcoming fight were some grand joke.
Across from them, Team 1 loomed like an immovable wall of superiority. Galeen Silverthorn stood at the center, the wind currents swirling faintly around him like unseen blades. To his right was Bran Halloway, whose hulking frame looked like it could punch through a mountain. Talia Snowes ice-blue eyes glinted with a dangerous chill, mist curling faintly from her fingertips. At the far edge stood Syra Elmheart, small and delicate, her radiating flashes of light already beginning to pulse with warning.
Julius felt the gulf between their teams like a weight on his chest. He gripped the hilt of his fathers sword. This was itthe formal trial that would show just how far he had to go.
Instructor Eckharts voice cut through the air. Teams 1 and 4. Step forward!
The two groups lined up. Edward glanced at Julius, his icy blue gaze cutting like a knife. Stay out of the way, Johnson. This isnt a fight you can win.
Julius clenched his jaw. Ill do my part, Your Highness.
Eckharts gravelly voice rose above the tension. Knock your opponents out of the ring. Use your Virtues, and remembervictory is earned, not given. Begin!
The arena erupted into chaos.
Aria surged forward, her movements deliberate and thunderous. She slammed her fists into the ground, and the earth respondedstone erupted around her arms, forming jagged gauntlets that cracked and reformed with every flex of her fingers. Bran met her charge with an earth-shaking roar, his massive frame hurtling toward her like a battering ram.
The two collided in an explosion of force, shockwaves rippling through the ground beneath them. Bran swung a fist the size of a boulder, but Aria ducked under the blow, countering with an uppercut that sent stone shards flying.
Is that all youve got? Aria growled, the ground trembling beneath her feet.
Bran grunted his expression a mix of surprise and anger. He lunged again, trying to grapple her, but Aria planted her feet and met him head-on. Her gauntlets glowed faintly, cracks of light pulsing through them as she lifted Bran off the ground with an earth-shaking heave.
With a defiant yell, Aria hurled him across the ring. Bran skidded to the edge, his weight cracking the stone before he tumbled out of bounds.
Team 1 loses Bran! Eckhart called, though his voice barely registered over the roar of the crowd.
Aria rolled her shoulders, glaring at the rest of Team 1. Whos next?
While Aria fought with brute force, Shane danced through the arena like a shadow. Syras brilliant flashes of light burst from her fingertips, each one leaving blinding afterimages in the air, but Shane was already three steps ahead.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!
Stand still! Syra snapped, frustration bleeding into her voice.
Why? Shane called back, his voice carrying that insufferable smirk. Youre doing a great job of missing me as it is.
Syra clenched her fists, the light growing brighter. She released a burst of energy that tore across the arena, splitting stone and filling the air with dazzling brilliance. But Shane slipped through the chaos with inhuman agility, his wind-based VirtueEye of the Skyrevealing the safest paths. He moved like a whisper of air, leaving faint afterimages of himself as he darted closer.
Syra blinked, momentarily disoriented by the illusions Shane left in his wake. She turned sharply, only for Shane to appear behind her, grinning.
Boo, he said cheerfully before sweeping her legs out from under her.
Syra tumbled to the ground, her light fading. With a quick nudge, Shane pushed her out of the ring. Syras out! Eckhart barked.
Shane dusted his hands off and shot Julius a wink. See? Easy.
In stark contrast to Shanes fluid movements, Edward fought with brutal efficiency. Talia summoned lances of ice, her Virtue crackling as she hurled them toward Edward, but each strike was met with his glowing blade, Justice. The sword crackled with lightning, arcs of energy splitting through the air with every swing.
You rely too much on your range, Edward said coldly, sidestepping another ice spike.
And you rely too much on arrogance, Talia shot back, summoning a wall of frost to shield herself.
Edwards gaze sharpened, the lightning at his swords edge intensifying. With a single, decisive swing, he cleaved through the ice, his Virtue exploding outward. A shockwave of lightning surged toward Talia, shattering her defenses. She staggered, her balance lost.
Edward was on her in an instant. The Eye of the Storm flickered in his eyesa brief flash of what would happen next. He shifted, already anticipating her counterstrike, and struck low. Talia cried out as her feet left the ground, the impact sending her sprawling out of the ring.
Talias out!
Edward lowered his sword, the energy dissipating. His gaze flicked briefly to Julius, unreadable.
Juliuss knuckles whitened around his sword as Galeen Silverthorn stepped forward, the faint currents of wind swirling around him like an invisible storm.
You look lonely, Johnson, Galeen said, his voice smooth and mocking. Your friends seem to have done all the work for you.
Julius forced a grin, though his pulse thundered in his ears. Good. Means I dont have to share the spotlight with you.
Galeens smirk deepened, his pale blue eyes narrowing. Bold words for someone who doesnt belong here.
Before Julius could move, the wind struck. A torrent slammed into his chest, lifting him off his feet and driving him back. He hit the ground hard, gasping for air.
Get up, Galeen said softly, his tone sharp. If you think strength is enough, youre already lost.
Julius staggered to his feet, charging forward with a desperate swing. Galeen sidestepped easily, his movements almost lazy. Another gust struck Julius, knocking him down again.
Youre slow, Galeen remarked, disappointment flickering across his face.
Julius gritted his teeth, pushing himself up once more. Not done yet.
Galeens expression hardened. The winds around him surged, swirling into a vortex. Then let me end this.
Julius barely saw the final blast before it hit. The gale tore into him like a hurricane, throwing him clear across the ring. He landed just outside the boundary, the sword slipping from his hands.
Julius Johnson is out! Eckharts voice rang, final and cold.
The crowd fell silent as Julius lay there, staring at the sky, the ache of failure sinking deep into his bones. Galeen turned away, the winds fading.
Disappointing, he muttered.
As Team 4 regrouped, the taste of victory was bittersweet. Aria and Shane exchanged brief nods of satisfaction, while Edward stood tall, seemingly unbothered.
Julius sat on the ground, wiping blood from his mouth. Shane crouched beside him, offering a hand. Youre still here, farm boy. Thats something.
Julius took the hand, his chest tight as he stood. Edwards cold gaze lingered on him for a moment before he turned away, muttering, A knight without power is just a man holding a blade.
Julius said nothing, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword. He had foughtand failed. But something inside him refused to break.
Steel breaks. Flesh endures.
For now, that was enough.
Chapter 11: "What Lies Within"
The aftermath of Juliuss crushing defeat weighed on his body and spirit like an iron shackle. Every breath he took seemed to remind him of the fightthe sting of Galeens wind, the sharp tang of blood in his mouth, and the endless sensation of being overpowered.
The infirmary was quiet, except for an attendant''s occasional footsteps shuffling between cots. Julius sat slumped on the edge of a small bed, his tunic wrinkled and streaked with dirt and blood. His fathers sword lay at his side, a silent reminder of how far he had to go.
Still sulking? Arias voice broke through the stillness. She stepped into the room, her green eyes sharp and unreadable. The faint earth stains on her gloves showed shed been trainingagain. I thought farm boys were tougher.
Julius shot her a glare, though it lacked fire. Youre hilarious.
Aria didnt smile. Instead, she dropped onto a stool across from him, her sharp gaze studying him like he was some new puzzle she hadnt yet figured out. You lasted longer than most wouldve.
Julius sighed, running a hand through his short hair. Doesnt matter. I still lost. It wasnt even close.
Aria crossed her arms, her tone steady and matter-of-fact. You fought someone using their Virtue. That fight was over before it even started.
Julius frowned, the word stirring his frustration. Virtue this, Virtue that. What is it with everyone talking about Virtue like its the end-all, be-all?
Aria stared at him for a long moment, gauging him. You really dont know?
Julius shrugged. Its some kind of magic, right? Powers youre born with?
At that, Aria snorted. You make it sound so simple. Virtue isnt just magic. Its willpower made manifest. She leaned forward slightly, her expression turning serious. Every knight who awakens their Virtue draws power from their deepest convictions. Its not something youre handed. You earn it.
Julius raised an eyebrow. You earn it? How?
By surviving yourself, Aria replied. The Virtues are Courage, Justice, Generosity, Faith, Mercy, Nobility, and Hope. Each one represents a truth about who we areor who we want to be.
She held up a fist, and stone crept over her knuckles, forming her signature gauntlets. Faith. Earth. Its my will to endure and protect. Thats what gives me this power. The gauntlets crumbled to dust as she opened her hand.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
Julius stared at her, processing the explanation. So what? You just decide you want to be virtuous, and suddenly rocks fly out of the ground?
Aria rolled her eyes. It doesnt work like that. You dont just choose a Virtueits tied to who you are. It reflects your beliefs, your struggles, your convictions. The stronger your will, the stronger your Virtue.
Julius scoffed, shaking his head. Well, I dont have one. Guess that means Im just some guy with a sword.
Arias expression softenedjust a little. Not yet. But you survived that fight longer than anyone expected. Even Galeen was surprised.
Julius looked away, her words cutting deeper than she probably realized. Doesnt feel like it matters.
Maybe youre not looking in the right place, Aria said quietly. The strength of a Virtue comes from within. It comes from what youre willing to fight for.
Julius let out a bitter laugh. Ive been fighting to prove myself since I got here. Doesnt seem like its enough.
It will be. Aria stood, turning to leave. Try harder, Johnson. Or dont. But sitting here feeling sorry for yourself wont change anything.
Her footsteps echoed as she left the infirmary, leaving Julius alone with his thoughts.
Hours later, Julius found himself back in the training yard. The sun had set, leaving the grounds cloaked in shadows and lit only by the flickering glow of torches along the walls. His sword sat heavy in his hands, the familiar weight offering little comfort.
Willpower made manifest, he muttered, Arias words replaying in his head. He raised his sword and swung it in slow, deliberate arcs. What do I have to fight for?
The question lingered, unanswered, as he moved through the motions. His strikes grew sharper, faster, each swing fueled by frustration and a deep, gnawing feeling of inadequacy.
Come on, he muttered, gripping the hilt until his knuckles turned white. If everyone else has this Virtue, why cant I
Pain shot through his body as he overextended, his knees hitting the stone. Pathetic, he whispered, panting.
Stand up.
The voice sent chills through him, deep and guttural, like gravel scraping against steel. Julius froze, his hazel eyes darting across the empty yard.
Stand up, boy.
It wasnt his voice. It wasnt anyones voice.
Julius pushed himself to his feet, sweat dripping down his face. Whos there?
The silence seemed to stretch, heavy and suffocating. Then, he felt ita pulse of heat deep in his chest, faint but undeniable.
Images flashed across his mindfires raging, molten scales, wings darkening the sky. A monstrous eye, slit-pupiled and burning, stared into him, through him.
Julius gasped, stumbling back. His heart pounded, his chest tight. What what was that?
The heat faded, leaving a lingering hum beneath his skin, like an ember waiting for air.
He gripped his sword, his breaths uneven. I dont know what you are, he muttered, but Im not afraid of you.
The voice didnt answer, but the silence felt different now. Julius stood alone in the empty yard, but for the first time, he didnt feel entirely alone.
And in the distance, hidden among the shadows of the academy, something watched. A whisper on the wind carried with it a sense of foreboding, a presence that was almost imperceptible.
The Celestials had their agents, and they were beginning to take notice.
Chapter 12: “The Fire That Shapes”
The clang of steel from the training yard echoed faintly through the barracks, each strike sharp and mocking in Juliuss ears. He sat on the edge of his bed, hands resting on his knees, his shoulders hunched. Bruises ached beneath his sweat-soaked shirt, and the weight of his fathers sword beside him felt heavier than ever.
Outside, Virtues sparked like fireworkslightning hissed, earth rumbled, and wind howled in sharp bursts of energy. Edwards voice cut through the noise, barking commands with unrelenting authority. Julius could almost hear Aria pounding away at some poor training dummy, every strike strong enough to crack stone. And then there was Shanes laughtercarefree, infuriating, like nothing in the world ever truly touched him.
Julius clenched his fists. Why cant I unlock it? Whats wrong with me? The question gnawed at him, relentless, like a splinter in his mind.
The door creaked open.
Shane strolled in with his usual air of casual confidence, leaning against the frame. I thought Id find you here, he said. Hiding.
Go away, Shane, Julius muttered, staring at the floor.
Shane didnt budge. Instead, he dragged a chair over, flipping it backward to sit down, elbows resting on the top. Not a chance. Im not letting you wallow in here without a little company. Thats what friends are for.
Friends? Julius shot him a glare. Are you sure? Because youve been awfully quiet when Edwards tearing me apart out there.
Shane shrugged, unfazed. Sometimes youve got to let people sink a little so they remember to swim.
Julius groaned, rubbing his temples. If this is a pep talk, Shane, youre terrible at it.
Shane grinned faintly but didnt let it linger. His expression turned uncharacteristically sharp, like a knife concealed under layers of charm. Youre an interesting one, Julius. You know that?
Not really the word Id use, Julius muttered.
See, thats the thing. Shane leaned forward, his green eyes studying Julius like he was a puzzle worth solving. Youre too quiet about yourself. You show up with that sword, carry all the whispers about your traitor dad on your back like some badge of honor, and what do you do? You take it. Every insult. Every glare. Like youve earned it.
Julius scowled. Whats your point?
My point, Farm Boy, is that people dont carry that kind of weight for no reason. Shane tapped a finger against the chairs edge. Theres more to you, isnt there? Something youre not telling us.
Julius stiffened. What are you getting at?
Shane tilted his head, the smirk softening into something more pointed. Im saying this doesnt add up. Your dad was a traitor? Thats the rumor, right? Yet youre here. A kid with no Virtue, swinging a relic of a blade like its going to fix the past. Why?
Juliuss jaw tightened, his fists curling at his sides. Because Im trying to prove myself.
Yeah? Shane leaned back. And what are you proving? That youre not like him? Or that you are?
Enough, Shane.
Shane didnt stop. See, heres what I think. His voice lowered, sharp and dangerous. Youre hiding something. Maybe not on purpose, but theres something about yousomething off. And I dont mean that in a bad way. He paused, studying Julius carefully. Do you even know what it is yet?Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Julius opened his mouth to retort but hesitated. A faint pressure stirred in the back of his mind, something old, something vast. It pulsed faintly like embers beneath his skin. He shivered but shook it off. Youre wrong. I dont know anything.
Shane watched him for a long moment before exhaling and leaning back. You know what? he said, almost amused now. Youre a terrible liar, Julius. If theres one thing Ive learned, its how to spot someone whos holding back. You? Youre holding back from yourself.
Why does it matter to you? Julius snapped, his frustration spilling over.
Shane stood, stretching as if theyd been chatting about the weather. Because were on the same team, and if something goes wrong, I want to know who I can trust. Right now, youre looking like the biggest mystery in this Academy, Farm Boy. He flashed his usual grin, though it lacked its normal lightheartedness. But dont worry. Ive decided I like you, so you get a pass. For now.
Julius didnt reply, too thrown off by Shanes unexpected insight. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Julius alone again, the silence ringing louder than before.
The training yard was less forgiving than the barracks. Julius swung his blade again and again, trying to channel his frustration into something useful. Each strike of his fathers sword was fast and heavy but crude, lacking the grace and control of the other trainees.
Your form is atrocious, came a voice behind him.
Julius turned to see Edward standing there, arms crossed, his blue eyes narrowing like he was assessing something broken.
Julius groaned. What now?
Edward approached, sword in hand, his posture impossibly straight. If youre going to swing that thing around, at least do it properly.
Julius glared at him. What do you care?
Edward ignored the comment and gestured for Julius to ready his stance. Raise your sword. Like this.
At first, Julius hesitated. Edward was the last person he wanted advice from. But then, the pulsefaint but insistentstirred again within him. Learn.
Gritting his teeth, Julius complied. Edward circled him slowly, tapping Juliuss hands and shoulders with the flat of his blade. Your stance is too wide. Thats why your strikes are wild. Tighten it.
Like this? Julius adjusted, though Edward scowled and nudged his arm.
Not quite. The people of Xing have a saying: precision beats power. Dont just swingaim. Make every move count.
Julius frowned, lowering his sword slightly. You learned that from Xing?
Edwards expression softened, just for a moment, a shadow of something unreadable flickering behind his icy blue eyes. From Ann Xing, actually. She taught me more than I care to admit.
Julius tilted his head, curiosity flaring despite himself. Princess Ann Xing? Of Xing?
Edward nodded once, turning his gaze back to Julius. Her kingdom values discipline above all else. A misplaced strike is worse than none at all. Every action has to have purpose.
For a moment, Julius thought Edward might say more, but the princes expression hardened, that brief vulnerability gone as quickly as it had appeared. He leveled his blade again, this time gesturing toward Julius.
Now stop flailing like youre in a tavern brawl and start thinking. Where are you aiming? Why are you striking? If youre too careless to answer that, youre already beaten.
Julius clenched his jaw, Edwards words stinging more than he wanted to admit. But deep in his mind, he felt something stiran ancient presence urging him forward.
Listen. Learn. Steel can break, but purpose can shape you.
Julius adjusted his grip and raised his sword again. This time, he aimed.
The two fell into a rhythm, Edward correcting Juliuss movements with the clinical precision of someone who had been shaped by years of royal training. At first, it felt like bullyingevery misstep earned a sharp comment or a quick nudge with Edwards blade. But gradually, Julius began to see the purpose behind it.
Better, Edward said finally, though his tone still carried its usual ice. At least now youre not embarrassing yourself.
Julius wiped sweat from his brow, the pulse within him quieting slightly, satisfied. For the first time, he realized Edward wasnt mocking him. He was teaching him.
Why are you helping me? Julius asked, his voice low.
Edward paused, his gaze unreadable. Because you need it. And because a knight without control is no knight at all.
Julius watched Edward walk away, his chest still heaving. For all his cold arrogance, Edward had shared something Julius could use. Something that would make him stronger.
Learn.
The whisper echoed again. Julius gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. For the first time in weeks, it felt like he was taking a step forwardeven if he was still walking in someone elses shadow.
For now, that was enough.
Chapter 13: “Two Storms Collide”
The training chamber loomed before Team 4, a maze of shifting corridors and glowing glyphs that pulsed like veins under skin. The magic crackled faintly, as if it were alive, whispering promises of traps, illusions, and ruin.
Edward Leona stood at the front, his posture rigid and his polished sword held with unwavering precision. Every inch of him radiated control, as though carved from ice itself. Beside him, Shane Leona leaned against the wall with practiced ease, his twin daggers spinning lazily in his hands. His casual demeanor was a stark contrast to his older brothers taut focus.
Edwards voice cut through the heavy silence. The crystal is at the heart of this maze. Stay close, follow my lead, and well finish this cleanly.
Shane snorted. Oh, naturally. Because youve always been the fun one to follow.
Edwards blue eyes narrowed, cold and sharp. Someone has to lead, Shane. And its clearly not you.
Shanes smirk widened, though his eyes flashed with something sharper beneath the mockery. Funny, isnt it? You play the part of a leader, but you dont inspire anyone to follow. You just order.
Aria groaned, stepping between them before the tension could boil over. Enough already. I swear, Im seconds from locking you both in a cave until you sort out whatever this is.
Julius hung near the back, watching the brothers like a spectator caught in the middle of a private war. Maybe we focus on the maze before you two start swinging? he suggested, gripping his sword. The crystals not going to collect itself.
Edward exhaled sharply, straightening. Fine. Stay close.
The maze swallowed them whole as the heavy stone doors groaned shut behind them. Shadows stretched along the walls, lit only by the eerie pulse of the glyphs. Edward moved ahead, leading with practiced confidence, his sword raised like a compass.
We take the right passage, Edward ordered, studying the faint flicker of magic along the walls. I can see traces of movementthis is the way.
Movement or traps? Shane interjected, his voice light but edged with challenge. Because my gut says left.
Edward turned sharply, glaring at his younger brother. Youre basing this on your gut?
Shane pushed off the wall, his casual air falling away. His green eyes flickered as Eye of the Sky activated, faint wisps of wind curling along the ground like invisible tendrils. Trails of possibility stretched out before himeach choice branching into outcomes only he could see.
Not gutinstinct, Shane corrected, his voice quieter now. Your path leads to collapse. This ones safer.
Edwards grip on his sword tightened. And youre suddenly an authority on navigation?
Shane shrugged, though there was no humor in his voice. Unlike you, I dont need to be perfect. I just need to be right.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
The air between the brothers grew heavy, their powers humming faintly in response to their clashing wills. Edwards lightning flickered at his fingertips, while Shane stood calm, the wind curling around him like a loyal ally.
Will you two stop? Aria barked, the tremor of her earth magic cracking the stone under her boot. Were testing both paths. Julius, youre with Edward. Ill go with Shane. We meet at the center.
Splitting ups a bad idea, Julius muttered under his breath, but Arias glare silenced him. Okay, okay. Dont let me die, Your Highness.
The path Edward chose was claustrophobic, the walls pressing close like a throat ready to swallow them. Edwards Eye of the Storm buzzed at the edge of his vision, flashes of movement teasing glimpses of spikes and glyphsseconds ahead of reality.
Step exactly where I do, Edward commanded. Dont fall behind.
Julius grumbled under his breath but obeyed, mirroring Edwards movements. A spike shot out of the wall, but Edward turned gracefully, his sword slicing the trap apart before it triggered fully. Julius wasnt so lucky. He stumbled, a spear-like dart grazing his arm.
Focus, Johnson, Edward snapped, his tone as sharp as the traps. Sloppiness will get you killed.
Im trying! Julius bit back, panting as they pressed on. Not all of us have lightning visions, you know.
Edward turned, his gaze hard. Then learn. You rely on brute force. A sword isnt just for swingingits for reading your opponent, predicting their moves. A blade should flow like water, not thrash like a storm.
Julius narrowed his eyes. You sound just like my father.
Edward hesitated, his voice softer. Then maybe your father knew something worth learning.
The words stung, but deep inside, Julius felt something stir. Edward moved with an elegance Julius couldnt deny, every motion deliberatecrafted through years of expectation and endless training. The voice, faint in Juliuss mind, whispered.
Watch. Learn.
Reluctantly, Julius followed Edwards example.
Meanwhile, Shane led Aria through the left passage with unnerving ease, the wind guiding his steps. His Eye of the Sky lit invisible paths of safety ahead, allowing him to move like a whisper. Aria smashed through what obstacles she couldnt avoid, her stone gauntlets crushing walls and wards alike.
Youre enjoying this, Aria accused, watching Shane dodge another trap with a spin that looked more like a dance.
Shane grinned. What can I say? I like proving Edward wrong.
Maybe stop trying to compete with him for five minutes, Aria said. Its exhausting to watch.
Shanes smile faltered, just slightly. Edward was made into a leader. I just am. You know what thats like? Watching someone force themselves into a role because they think they have to carry the world?
Aria glanced at him, her voice softer. So, what? You resent him for it?
No, Shane admitted, his smile returning, though quieter this time. I just wish hed let himself fail once in a while.
Both paths converged at the heart of the maze, where the crystal pulsed on its pedestal. Edward and Julius arrived first, battered but alive. Shane and Aria entered moments later.
Told you my path was safer, Shane said smugly.
Edward ignored him, his gaze locked on the crystal as the wards around it flared with lethal energy. Lightning crackled faintly along his fingertips. Ill cut through
No, Shane interrupted, activating his Eye of the Sky. Thatll trigger the whole thing. Trust me.
The two glared at each other, tension humming.
Shanes right, Aria interjected. Work together, or this whole maze wins.
With a growl of frustration, Edward nodded. Shane guided him through the traps, each of Edwards precise strikes cutting down the warding glyphs with perfect timing.
When the final pulse of energy faded, Julius lunged forward, snatching the crystal before the illusion of the maze crumbled.
Instructor Eckhart surveyed them with a grim expression. You succeeded, but barely. Remember thisleadership isnt control. Strength isnt just power. Its knowing when to listen.
Edward and Shane exchanged a looktense, but with the faintest flicker of understanding.
As they left the chamber, Julius glanced between the brothers. So truce?
Shane smirked. Edward rolled his eyes. But this time, neither argued.
And for the first time, the storm between them began to settleif only for now.
Chapter 14: “Victory Through Perseverance”
The midday sun hovered above the Academys battlefield, its heat baking the open arenaa sprawling mix of uneven terrain, patches of tall grass, and stone barricades. Team 4 stood together on the edge, tension hanging between them like a coiled spring. Across the field stood Team 3, led by Cordelia Silverly. The gleam of Cordelias golden hair and her composed smile contrasted sharply with the focused ferocity of her teammates.
Todays open-field battle simulation would test their ability to work as a team. Victory lay not just in strength but in strategy, trust, and perseverance.
Julius gripped his sword tightly, his eyes darting between Team 3s members. Cordelia, a master of illusions through her Virtue Hope, stood at the center with unnerving calm. To her left, Cyril Thornwright, the fire-wielding artist, spun flames lazily between his fingers as if preparing for a masterpiece. On her right, Marla Stoutfoot, the Halfling Faith user, crouched slightly, her silver eyes scanning Team 4 like a predator. And above them, hovering on controlled gusts of wind, was Ivo Windmere, the aerial scout whose Generosity Virtue gave him eyes over the entire field.
They dont look worried, Julius muttered, tightening his grip on his sword.
Let them underestimate us, Edward replied coldly, stepping forward. Lightning crackled faintly around his fingertips, betraying his growing focus. Weve beaten worse.
Aria cracked her knuckles, a faint ripple of stone magic trembling beneath her skin. Well just have to hit them harder.
Shane shot Julius a lazy grin, his twin daggers glinting. Stick close and dont die, farm boy. Ive got plans to get back to later.
Instructor Eckhart stepped to the center of the field, his gravelly voice cutting through the growing tension. Team 4 versus Team 3. The objective is simple: incapacitate or disarm your opponents. The trial is about coordination and determination. Begin!
The sound of the whistle rang out, and the arena erupted into chaos.
Aria launched forward like a stone missile, her fists cracking into the earth with enough force to send tremors rippling across the field. Her target: Cordelia.
Cordelia remained still, unbothered by the earths quaking fury. As Aria charged, Cordelias smile widened faintly. The air around her shimmered, and shadows began to peel away from the terrain, rising like phantoms.
Aria Chase, Cordelia said softly, her voice carrying like a song. How predictable.
Aria didnt slow, her stone gauntlets forming mid-stride as she brought her fist down toward Cordelias head. But at the last moment, Cordelia vanishedleaving behind a blur of illusions. Arias strike met only air, shattering the ground instead.
What the?! Aria spun, her green eyes darting wildly. Shadowy forms danced around her, Cordelias voice echoing softly in her ears. You cant fight what isnt real.
Aria grit her teeth, slamming her fists into the earth again. The shockwave dispersed the illusions temporarily, but Cordelias laughter echoed through the battlefield.
Isnt hope wonderful? Cordelias voice purred from all directions. It lets you believe youre close to winning even when youre so very far away.
Aria growled, sweat beading on her brow as she stomped the ground once more. This time, stone spikes erupted in a wide radius, forcing Cordelias illusions to falter. Through the haze, Aria caught a flash of goldCordelias real form flickering at the edge of her vision.
There you are, Aria snarled, charging with all her force. Lets see you hide from this!Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Meanwhile, Edward found himself at odds with Marla Stoutfoot. The Halfling moved like a shadow, blending into the tall grass and uneven terrain, her daggers flashing briefly before disappearing into the earth. Edwards cold blue eyes narrowed, his Eye of the Storm flaring to life as flickers of the near future danced through his mind.
The ground to his left trembled. Edward pivoted sharply, his sword cutting through the empty air as Marla popped up, aiming a dagger strike at his ribs. Lightning crackled along his blade, forcing her back as he twisted, narrowly avoiding the blow.
Not bad, Marla said quietly, slipping back into the shadows of the terrain. But youll have to do better than that.
Edwards eyes darted across the ground, catching glimpses of disturbed earth. His future-sight flickered with brief flashes of Marlas attacksdaggers plunging up from the ground, swipes aimed at his legs, slashes from his blind spots.
Shes testing me, Edward thought, forcing his breaths to steady.
Marla reappeared, lunging toward him with twin blades. Edward stepped to the side at the last possible moment, guided by his visions. Her daggers passed harmlessly by him as he swung the flat of his sword at her back. Marla rolled out of reach, vanishing into the grass again.
Whack-a-mole, Edward muttered under his breath, his patience thinning.
This time, he struck first. Edward slammed his sword into the ground, sending arcs of lightning crackling through the earth. The electricity lit up Marlas hiding spots, forcing her out of stealth with a sharp gasp.
Got you, Edward said, his blade glowing as he lunged forward.
Shane faced Ivo Windmere, the Generosity user who hovered high above the battlefield like an ever-watchful hawk. Wind blades sliced through the air, forcing Shane to keep moving, his Eye of the Sky flaring as paths of safety lit up before him.
Come on, Windmere! Shane called out, dodging effortlessly as a slicing gust tore into the stone beside him. You cant hit me with those weak breezes.
Ivo frowned, his focus tightening. Youre slippery. Ill give you that.
Shane grinned, vaulting over a stone barricade as another wind blade slashed where hed stood a second earlier. Slipperys what I do best. He flung a dagger upward, the blade whirling harmlessly past Ivo, but Shane wasnt aiming to hit.
Ivo glanced down at him. You missed.
Did I? Shane replied. The wind shifted just slightlyShane had thrown the dagger through a narrow gust Ivo had created, disrupting the scouts balance. Ivos flight faltered as he dropped slightly lower, closer to Shanes range.
Before Ivo could recover, Shane launched forward, using the terrain to propel himself upward. He struck with a second dagger, grazing Ivos cloak and tearing a small rip. Gotcha.
Ivo growled, retreating back into the air, now warier of Shanes unorthodox movements.
Julius, meanwhile, faced Cyril Thornwright, the fire-wielding artist. Cyrils flames swirled gracefully around him as he stepped forward, his movements calm and deliberate.
Beautiful, isnt it? Cyril mused, sending a spiral of fire toward Julius. Each flame tells a story. Let me paint yours.
Julius barely managed to dodge, the fire singing his coat as he rolled aside. Im not here to model for your art show, he shot back, raising his sword.
Cyril smiled faintly, his hands tracing patterns through the air. A shame. I wouldve made you look magnificent.
The fire grew wilder, more unpredictable. Julius swung his sword desperately, trying to break through the inferno. The voice inside himVolunderwhispered again. Cut through the chaos. Focus.
Julius gritted his teeth, narrowing his gaze as Cyrils next wave of flames surged forward. This time, Julius stepped into the heat. He swung his sword downward, cutting through the fire with a surge of raw instinct. For a moment, the flames faltered.
Cyril blinked in surprise. What?
But Julius couldnt capitalize. His body burned with exhaustion, and Cyril sent another blast of fire his way, knocking him backward onto the ground.
With Aria closing in on Cordelia, Edward pinning Marla down, and Shane keeping Ivo distracted, it seemed like Team 4 might have a chance. But Cordelias illusions flared brighter than ever, twisting the battlefield into a maze of light and shadow. Her team capitalized, each member pressing their opponents back.
Enough! Cordelias voice rang out, her power surging. A final wave of light disoriented Team 4, forcing them to their knees.
Match over! Instructor Eckharts voice boomed. Team 3 wins!
Team 4 regrouped at the edge of the field, bruised, battered, and breathing heavily. Cordelias team stood victorious, though not smug. Even Cyril looked winded, and Marlas cloak was scorched.
Edward clenched his fists. We were close.
Close doesnt count, Aria muttered, shaking her head.
Julius stared at his hands, frustration bubbling up. Well get them next time.
Cordelia caught his eye from across the field, her serene smile lingering just a little too long. Something about it twisted in Juliuss gut.
This wasnt overnot by a long shot.
Chapter 15: “To Know Thyself Is the Beginning of Wisdom”
The training yard was empty, the silence thick as mist beneath the dim glow of the moon. Julius stood alone, his fathers sword gripped in his hand, sweat slicking his brow and arms. The worn hilt dug into his calloused palms, but he welcomed the pain. It kept him grounded, kept him focused.
He swung the sword in long, sweeping arcs, the steel whistling faintly. The rhythm of his strikes was erraticraw power and frustration without refinement. No control. No precision. Just noise.
Each swing echoed the bitter thoughts he couldnt shake. The dagger. The loss to Cordelia. The whispers that he didnt belong.
Why cant I figure this out? Julius growled to himself, swinging harder.
Then, like a pebble dropped into still water, a voice rippled through his thoughts. Low and resonant, it carried an ancient calm that froze Julius mid-swing.
You swing without purpose.
Julius turned sharply, his heart pounding. Whos there? His voice carried into the stillness. The yard was empty, darkened shadows stretching long and thin across the ground.
Frustration blinds you, the voice murmured again, closer now. A blade answers not to anger, but to understanding.
Julius swallowed, his chest tightening. Show yourself!
The voice seemed to hum inside his head, as though it spoke not from the air but from deep within him. You already know me.
Juliuss eyes dropped instinctively to the sword in his hand. He felt a pulsefaint but unmistakablereverberating through the steel.
Who are you? he whispered.
The answer was a single name, spoken with weight and finality: I am Volunder.
The name struck him like lightning, sharp and powerful. Julius stumbled back a step, staring down at the sword as though it had suddenly become a serpent in his grasp.
What are you? he asked, his voice trembling.
The presence within the blade seemed to quiet for a moment, as though considering the question. Not yet, Volunder said at last. For now, know only this: the answers you seek lie not in the blade, but within yourself. You must know who you are before you can wield the strength you carry.
Juliuss breath slowed, the pulse in his chest matching the faint hum of energy within the sword. He felt seen, as though something ancient and vast was looking straight through him.
Whats happening to me? he muttered.
You are awakening, Volunder replied, the voice softer now, almost encouraging. But your path will not be an easy one, Julius. There are forces at work beyond this placeshadows that loom over the light. Prepare yourself.
The words sent a chill up his spine, and before Julius could respond, the presence faded, leaving him standing alone once more. The yard was silent again, but the weight of the moment lingered.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
Julius stared at the sword, his grip steady despite the tremor in his chest. Volunder he murmured. He didnt know what the name meant or what the voice was, but something was clear nowthis was bigger than him.
And it had only just begun.
Edward sat in the Academy chapel, the pale light of the stained glass painting faint colors across the stone floor. The stillness of the space usually gave him focus, a brief respite from the weight of his duties. Tonight, though, his thoughts refused to settle.
His hand twitched faintly as his Virtue stirredJusticeflickers of lightning pulsing in his veins. For days, Edward had been haunted by visions, flashes of the future brought on by his Eye of the Storm. At first, they were brief, fleeting. But now now they were growing clearer.
He shut his eyes, letting the power come. The familiar crackle of lightning raced across his vision, and the world around him seemed to darken. Then, it cameanother flash.
The image struck him like a fist to the chest. A man clad in blackened armor stood at the center of the storm, his presence vast and consuming, like a shadow given form. His helmet was etched with intricate patterns, but Edward didnt need to see the face to recognize him.
Dre Royce.
The legendary knight, spoken of in whispers, shrouded in both honor and infamy. Edwards father had mentioned him rarely, and never without discomfort. Dre Royce was a name tied to rebellion, to secrets, to betrayal.
And there, amidst the swirling storm in Edwards vision, Dre Royce turned his helmeted headand looked straight at him.
Edward jerked upright, the vision shattering like glass. He was back in the chapel, the soft glow of the lanterns steady. His heart hammered in his chest, his breathing shallow.
Dre Royce, Edward murmured, gripping the edge of the pew. Why now? Why him?
Aria shuffled through a thick tome in the Academys archive basement, her lantern casting a pool of light over rows of parchment. Shane leaned back against a nearby shelf, spinning his dagger between his fingers with an idle smirk.
Tell me again why were playing in the dust? Shane quipped. I thought being a knight involved swords and glory, not babysitting old books.
Because somethings not right, Aria replied sharply, pulling out the dagger shed found and laying it on the table. And I dont trust anyone else to figure it out.
The daggers black blade gleamed faintly, the strange shadowed-wing symbol etched into the hilt. Aria traced a finger over it, comparing it to a diagram in the tome shed uncovered.
Here, she said, her voice low. This isnt a standard weapon. Its not Academy-forged. Look at this symbol. She pointed to the shadowed sun. Its wrong. Like it doesnt belong here.
Shane leaned closer, the smirk slipping from his face as he studied the blade. So, someone brought this in. Left it here on purpose.
Aria nodded grimly. And they wanted it to be found.
Before Shane could respond, the door creaked open, and Edward entered, his expression taut and sharp.
Youre both here, Edward said, stepping forward. Good. I have something you need to hear.
Shane raised an eyebrow. Well, look who finally decided to join the conspiracy club.
Edward ignored the jab. Julius isnt the only one caught up in this. Ive seen something. A manDre Royceappearing in visions tied to the Academy. Hes connected to all of this, and I dont believe its a coincidence.
Shane exchanged a glance with Aria, his smirk gone. Dre Royce? The Dre Royce? Thats a name I didnt think Id hear again.
Why? Aria asked, her tone sharp.
Because, Shane replied, crossing his arms, the Cobble Kids told me whispers about old knights who were supposed to be dead. Ones who walk in shadows. Someones pulling strings, and theyre starting to tighten around us.
Edward frowned, but he nodded slowly. Were being tested. The question is, by who and why.
Julius appeared in the doorway, his expression uncertain as he caught the tail end of the conversation. Whats going on?
The group fell silent for a moment. Then Aria spoke, her voice steady.
Somethings happening, Julius. And I think were all tangled up in it.
The wind outside howled faintly, rattling the windows of the Academy. From the shadows of the courtyard, unseen golden eyes blinked, watching the building in silence before vanishing into the night.