The sunlight streamed across the stained glass of the royal throne room, tinting the marble floors with hues of ruby and emerald and sapphire. The air was reverent, almost heavy, as the gathered young victors of the Legion Challenge stood before the throne of King Ryler Owen, ruler of Miravalia. Their breathing was tempered by awe, and a hush fell upon the royal court.
Among those present were Nicholas June, whose quiet pride radiated from his straight-backed stance, and Trevor Connor, still visibly recovering from his injuries, but beaming with a sense of fulfillment. Both had earned their place in this moment—and though one of them had not actually won in the arena, none in the room yet knew the truth but the king himself and Trevor's father, Lord Derek Ardo.
King Ryler, a man of quiet intensity and a presence that silenced even the most boastful noble, rose from his throne. Clad in robes of velvet black trimmed in gold, his crown resting lightly on his brow, he fixed each victor with the solemn gaze of one who had witnessed both glory and ruin.
"Young warriors," the king began, his deep voice echoing through the chamber, "you have emerged from the storm not only intact but triumphant. You represent more than just power—you embody hope, spirit, and the ever-burning flame of Miravalia's future. Today, I grant you not just my blessing, but my trust."
He stepped down from the throne, walked to each one of them, and placed a firm hand upon their shoulders—first Trevor, then Nicholas, then the other victors.
"Carry our banner high," Ryler continued. "You are now Initiates of Hit Mages. Let the light of your maind energy guide you."
As the brief ceremony concluded, murmurs of admiration buzzed among the nobles in attendance. The victors bowed deeply, and one by one, they were dismissed from the throne room.
•••
But Stanley Ardo—who had also earned the glory that day under the name of another—remained outside, watching the grand doors with dispassionate eyes.
He stood alone beneath the archway just outside the throne hall, arms folded, leaning against a polished column. His expression was unreadable.
It was then Evelyn Ian approached—graceful, veiled not only in silks but also intent.
"Waiting too?" she asked casually, stepping into the golden patch of light beside him.
Stanley turned slightly. "Apparently. I'm not one of the victors," he said dryly. "Not officially."
"I suppose I'm not either," Evelyn responded with a half-smile.
He glanced at her, brow raised. "What do you mean? You were... impressive."
Evelyn hesitated. "I wasn't exactly... eligible," she said. "I entered the Challenge under a mask. I wasn't supposed to be there."
Stanley looked away. "Ah. A noble's daughter?" He pretended like he didn't know her true identity.
"Something like that," she said, laughing nervously. "Actually—" she paused, then continued more softly, "—I'm the daughter of King Ryler."
Stanley raised an eyebrow, although, he wasn't surprised. "So you're the princess."
She nodded. "I didn't tell you earlier. I had my reasons."
He shrugged. "You don't owe me anything. A lot of people wear masks. Literal and otherwise."
"I didn't want to be treated differently," she said. "Not by you." There was definitely something behind what she said.
Stanley smirked. "I wouldn't have treated you differently. You fight well. Better than most of the boys out there."
Their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them. A shared understanding of what it meant to carry a burden hidden from the world.
"You're not angry?" she asked quietly.
"No," he said. "Lying comes with surviving. And besides… I like Evelyn better than 'Your Highness.'"
She laughed, and the sound softened the air between them.
"Do you think they'll make you a mage?" she asked.
"I don't know," he said, glancing toward the throne room doors. "Depends if the king's in a forgiving mood."
Almost as if on cue, a royal steward opened the doors and beckoned the two of them inside.
As they entered, the court was cleared. Trevor was also summoned back and joined them. They stood once more before the throne, this time not as part of a group but as individuals whose truths had found the light.
King Ryler regarded them with knowing eyes.
"I called you back," he said, "because truth demands acknowledgment."
He stood and began pacing slowly before them.
"Evelyn, daughter of mine—you wore a mask not only to conceal your face but to defy the very restrictions I placed on you. And Stanley Ardo… you fought not as yourself, but as your brother. Trevor, you too were associated in that deception."
The three remained silent, awaiting judgment.
"By all rights," Ryler continued, "you should be stripped of honor, not awarded it. But I am not merely a king. I am a father… and a man who has seen too much of the future through fractured glimpses."
He turned to them. "You will be named Hit mages. But you will be on probation. The court may talk. The world may question. But I am not blind to the hearts of those who truly wants to serve this kingdom."
His hand lifted, and a soft wave of golden maind shimmered in the air.
"You have my blessing. But your paths will be watched." Ryler observed them for a moment or two before saying,"By chance, do you remember one another... I mean before your training years?"
Stanley and Trevor stared at Evelyn, trying to find any resemblance to someone they've met before, but found none.
"Huhhhh... I don't think I do." Stanley finally revealed. He looked at Trevor and the former noded negative.
King Ryler looked back at Derek and his best friend descend towards him. As Derek reached his sided, Ryler whispered, "You caused this." Now he faced the kids and said, "Y'all grew up together. You were best friends. Not until she and her mother were attacked on their way to the Dragon's Spur. After that day, I decided to never let her leave the palace... Or so I thought I did."
"But," Ryler continued." I still find it hard to believe that you don't recognize one another."
Out of the blue, Trevor faced Evelyn, wide-eyed. " Wait... Is Her Highness the 'Little Tiger'?"
Both Derek and Ryler smiled.
"No way... She can't be!" Stanley found it hard to believe Evelyn was his childhood playmate who he had lost contact with for over fifteen years.
King Ryler grinned, "You may leave."
As they bowed and began to leave, the king lifted his hand. "Derek. Stay."
Stanley looked back once, but his father's expression was unreadable. Evelyn gently touched his arm, leading him out.
When the chamber finally cleared, silence fell between the two old friends.
Derek broke it first. "Why did you make her a mage? You spent years denying her that."
Ryler walked slowly to one of the great stained-glass windows, gazing into the horizon.
"Because something's coming," he said softly. "Something far beyond our comprehension. I feel it in the earth. In the cracks of my visions. Danger... death... darkness. If she can help protect the realm, I can die in peace."
" Nobody is dying!" Derek fell quiet. Then: "You also see her mother in her."
Ryler smiled faintly. "Every day." Ryler looked back. "And Stanley? You're not angry I let him fight?"
"No," Derek said. "Because he's awakened. We both knew this day would come. I knew but didn't want it to. I can't keep him from his destiny anymore."
Ryler nodded. "No. You can't."
The two stood side by side in silence for a moment—two men, two fathers, bearing the weight of a kingdom and the fate of its children.
•••
Outside the throne room, Evelyn and Stanley walked quietly down the marbled corridor. She glanced sideways at him.
"So... probationary mages," she said.
He grinned. "Sounds about right for people like us."
They both laughed.
And somewhere behind them, the storm continued to gather—just beyond the horizon.