In the depths of the Royal Kaji Palace, the grand hall gleamed with hundreds of glowing torches. Banners bearing the royal family's crest—a red dragon coiled around a flaming sword—hung from the walls.
At the center of the hall, King Cirrus sat on his massive throne, silent and majestic like a mountain. His dark red cloak brushed the floor, and his left shoulder was clad in a royal pauldron engraved with ancient markings. Standing beside the throne was his most loyal guard, Alexander, with stern features, violet eyes, and neatly styled blond hair.
Surrounding them were ministers, nobles, and military commanders, all lined up along the hall wearing their finest embroidered robes and decorated armor. All stood in respectful silence, waiting for the moment they had long anticipated.
Suddenly, the sound of horns echoed, and the grand doors opened to announce the arrival of Prince Arthur.
He walked in with slow, confident steps. His red hair was neatly styled, and his blue eyes gleamed like the sky. Tall for his age, he wore a black royal jacket with red flame-like embroidery, and a silver belt from which hung his jewel-studded sword. Arthur continued toward his father Cirrus's throne, his arrogant smirk never leaving his face.
Arthur (tilting his chin slightly):
"Thank you for the welcome… though I deserve something more grand."
Soft chuckles escaped a few nobles, while the ministers exchanged blank looks. Cirrus said nothing, merely casting a steady gaze.
Cirrus:
"Approach."
Arthur stepped forward and bowed his head in symbolic respect.
Arthur (with a sarcastic smile, spreading his arms):
"Seventeen years, Father… isn't that enough to be treated as a man?"
Cirrus (calmly):
"Age does not make a man… actions do."
At that moment, Princess Selina entered quietly through the same doors. She wore a crimson royal gown, her red hair flowing elegantly over her shoulders, and her gray eyes, as always, studied the faces around her in silence. She was fourteen.
Selina (softly):
"Happy birthday, Brother Arthur."
Arthur (grinning and winking):
"If you weren't my sister, I'd thank you with a royal kiss."
Alexander (sternly):
"Show respect before the throne, Prince Arthur."
Arthur lightly stepped back, still smiling unapologetically. Cirrus ignored him as usual, as if he had long grown used to his son's sharp tongue.
Cirrus (addressing the hall):
"Today… the heir to the throne turns seventeen. This is not a celebration… but a declaration."
The nobles murmured among themselves. One stepped forward—a distinguished old man with a gray beard and fine green robes—and bowed before the throne.
Minister Enor:
"My liege, on behalf of the Council of Governance, we congratulate Prince Arthur on reaching the age of responsibility, and declare him the official heir to the Kaji throne—if you permit it."
Cirrus (coldly):
"I will not declare an heir… until he proves he is worthy of being called one."
The murmuring resumed, louder this time, but no one dared to object aloud.
Cirrus:
"You will be given real tasks, Arthur. And in the coming months… the kingdom will learn who you are."
Arthur (unshaken):
"I've been ready… for years."
Cirrus raised a goblet, taking a short sip.
Cirrus:
"Let the festivities begin."
Soft classical music began to play from a band in the corner of the hall. Ministers and nobles resumed their hollow conversations and fake smiles. The banquet tables were lavishly decorated, and the servants moved with disciplined precision.
A minister (raising his goblet):
"To Crown Prince Arthur! May his birthday mark the beginning of a glorious era!"
Arthur (grinning broadly, raising his goblet loudly):
"Yes! To myself—and to a time when the weak are swept aside!"
He turned and raised his goblet again toward the audience with a haughty gaze.
Arthur:
"Don't worry, gentlemen. I'll make this kingdom far more exciting than it ever was under my father."
A brief silence followed, then hesitant laughter from some nobles. Others looked on with wide eyes or visibly uneasy faces.
One senior military officer (whispering to the minister beside him):
"Insolent… he clearly didn't inherit his father's tact."
Selina stood beside Cirrus's throne in silence, watching the scene with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. She bit her lip but said nothing. Cirrus remained silent for a moment, his cold expression shifting slightly. He slowly raised his hand and gestured toward the musicians—the music stopped immediately.
Cirrus (speaking directly to Arthur, voice low but thunderous):
"When a son's voice rises above his father's… both fall in the eyes of men."
Arthur froze, his smirk faltering, though he struggled to maintain his composure as tension filled the hall.
Alexander (glaring at Arthur, whispering):
"If you weren't the king's son… I'd break your tongue right here."
Arthur (with forced calm):
"It was just a joke."
Cirrus:
"In the world of kings… jokes are weighed by swords."
He signaled for the band to resume. Conversations restarted, but the mood had changed.
Selina (stepping toward Arthur, eyes sharp, whispering):
"What are you doing, you idiot?! You've crossed the line!"
Arthur (turning to her with a forced smile):
"Oh, my little sister is lecturing me? How adorable."
Selina (firmly):
"What you said insulted Father in front of his men—and all of us. This isn't the time to show off, Arthur. It's time to prove you deserve all this."
Arthur (raising an eyebrow arrogantly):
"Oh, trust me… I don't need to prove anything. Everyone knows I'm the heir to this throne. I'll make it greater than it's ever been—whether they like it or not."
A cautious minister (muttering):
"What a reckless boy…"
Cirrus (heavily):
"Alexander."
Alexander (immediately bowing):
"Your command, Majesty."
Cirrus (pointing to Arthur without even looking at him):
"Take him away from my sight."
Arthur (eyes widening):
"What?! Father, this is my birthday celebration!"
Cirrus (coldly, devoid of any mercy):
"No… it is the celebration of your first failure before the people. Let them learn what arrogance costs a prince."
Alexander (stepping toward Arthur):
"We'll discuss punishment later, Prince. For now, let's go."
Arthur tried to stay composed as he glanced around nervously, then was led out of the hall in heavy silence. Selina remained where she stood, her expression calm but triumphant.
Cirrus (clearly, his voice restoring gravity to the hall):
"He who lacks discipline… lacks the right to rule. Continue your celebration… but remember who the king is in this place."
Cirrus quietly raised his goblet—without a smile. Applause began softly… then grew louder. The nobles' eyes gleamed with newfound admiration.
⸻
Arthur was shoved into a stone-walled chamber decorated with red banners by Alexander, who closed the door quietly behind them. He stood next to him, visibly annoyed.
Arthur (shouting angrily):
"This is absurd! It was my birthday! What's wrong with a little humor?! Is this how heirs are taught?!"
Alexander (calm but sharp):
"You're the crown prince… not the court jester."
Arthur (turning toward him):
"Oh please. Everyone only follows my father because they're afraid of him!"
Footsteps echoed slowly… The door opened silently—Cirrus entered. No signs of anger on him, just his usual imposing presence, stone-faced and seemingly devoid of emotion. He stopped in the middle of the room and stared at Arthur for a long moment.
Cirrus (coldly):
"I watched the whole scene to its end… I admit, it was entertaining."
Arthur (sarcastically):
"Glad you enjoyed it, Father."
Cirrus (stepping closer, voice steady):
"But royal feasts aren't for amusement… they are for displaying control. And you failed."
Arthur (crossing his arms):
"So control now means rigidity? Everyone in that hall is terrified of you, not respectful."
Cirrus (very calmly, without emotion):
"True respect is born from fear. If they do not fear you… they will betray you."
Arthur (with suppressed anger):
"So that's why you kill anyone who defies you? Because you can't stand opposition?"
Cirrus (raising an eyebrow):
"Those who defy me… survive. Those who betray me… are erased."
He stepped even closer—just two steps away.
Cirrus (low voice, eyes glowing sharply):
"Did you betray me, Arthur?"
Arthur (taking a step back but raising his chin):
"No… but you treat me like a tool meant to be used later… then discarded."
Cirrus (with deep sarcasm):
"The problem is… you're not even good enough to be a tool."
Arthur froze for a moment. His jaw trembled, but no words came out.
Cirrus: (continuing in a quiet, deadly tone):
"Being my son doesn't mean you're worthy. Power is earned, not inherited. And if you can't control yourself even once in public… how do you expect to rule them?"
Arthur tried to speak, but every word betrayed him.
Cirrus (walking away, hands behind his back):
"Know this, Arthur… the throne of Kaji isn't a gift. It's a curse. Consider what happened today… your first lesson."
Alexander (coolly from the side):
"Bow before you leave—before the King, not the father."
Arthur hesitated, then gave a small, quiet bow.
Cirrus (without looking at him):
"You may leave."
Alexander opened the door. Arthur walked out with heavy steps, then strode more confidently down the grand hallway. He placed a hand on one of the ornate pillars, then smirked bitterly, as if the whole scene had already been forgotten.
Arthur (muttering sarcastically):
"A lesson? Upbringing? No one teaches me how to be a king… Soon, they'll all be begging for it."
He chuckled to himself — a cocky, weightless laugh, as if the world itself bore no weight on his shoulders.
Arthur (winking at his own reflection in a large mirror):
"Yeah, this is the face of the next king… handsome, bold, and not giving a damn about anyone's rules."
At the end of the hall, an elderly noble leaned on a silver cane. He wore a deep blue embroidered cloak, and his left eye was covered by a silk patch. He stared at Arthur for a long moment before whispering under his breath.
Old Noble (coldly to himself):
"A prince playing like a child… not even aware which swamp his father's palace is sinking into. How pitiful you are, boy…"
Then he looked toward the high windows where Kaji's flags waved proudly.
Old Noble (continuing):
"If only he knew… that his father led genocides never written in the kingdom's books. If he knew who Cyrus truly is, he wouldn't be laughing like that."
Just then, a young maid passed through the corridor. Arthur gave her an exaggerated theatrical bow and spoke in a flirtatious tone.
Arthur (grinning):
"Oh? A lovely lady in the middle of this dreadful ball? Perhaps this day is full of surprises after all."
The maid blushed slightly, bowed quickly, and walked away. Arthur continued on, wearing the grin of a victor.
Moonlight filtered through the tall windows, casting his shadow onto the elegant tiled floor. The room was pristine. Arthur sat on a plush crimson couch, leg crossed over knee, spinning an empty glass in his hand — pretending nothing had happened.
Suddenly…
Knock knock…
Selena entered quietly. Her gray eyes carried a soft kind of cruelty.
Selena (calmly):
"I knew you'd pretend like nothing happened."
Arthur (grinning slyly, standing up slowly):
"Oh, my little sister's here to give me a lesson now? Shouldn't you be enjoying the last treat of the party?"
Selena (standing in the middle of the room, expressionless):
"Do you think anyone enjoyed your performance? You were disgraceful… in front of the king, the generals, the ministers… even the servants whispered your name — in fear, or worse, mockery."
Arthur (sighing, tossing the glass lightly onto the table):
"They whisper. I'll be the one sitting on the throne someday. Why should I care what they whisper?"
Selena (stepping closer, voice lower):
"I do."
Arthur froze briefly. He glanced at her casually — but her words struck him nonetheless.
Selena (continuing):
"You don't understand what it means to be the heir of a king like Father… He's not just a king. He's the most powerful man in this world."
Arthur (narrowing his eyes, smirking):
"And I'm supposed to tremble in fear of that legacy?"
He raised his right hand — and fire ignited in his palm!
Arthur (holding the flames up, staring into them):
"Fire Vakin… a gift from dear old Dad. If this is his legacy… then this hand is all I need to carve out my own throne."
He waved his finger in the air, forming spirals of flame. A small fireball began circling his hand.
Arthur (grinning with arrogance):
"Look closely, dear sister… This is what makes me the true heir. Being liked? Being charming? Irrelevant. Power is what matters."
Selena:
"And do you think fire alone makes a king?"
Arthur:
"Fire… and a name. The rest? Just background noise."
He closed his fist, extinguishing the flame, then stared at her challengingly — as if he'd won the argument. But Selena didn't look angry. She simply let out a short breath.
Selena (quietly):
"If you think your strength is enough… then go prove it to Father."
She turned to leave but paused at the door and added in a low tone:
Selena:
"A true King of Fire… is the one who controls his flames — not flaunts them in front of mirrors."
She walked out, leaving Arthur staring at his palm… then he smiled to himself.
Later that night, in the quiet corridors of the castle, Arthur walked steadily, holding a long sword forged from black steel. Its hilt was engraved with the royal sigil. His eyes gleamed with excitement and confidence.
He approached the massive doors of the throne room. Then, with both hands, he pushed them open—
"GRRAAAAAASH!!"
The doors slammed open, revealing Cyrus seated regally on his throne. Alexander stood silently by his right — as motionless as stone.
Cirrus (raising his eyes, mockingly):
"Well, well… it's late. I wasn't expecting a guest this bold."
Arthur (stepping inside, drawing his sword):
"I'm no guest. I'm your son… your heir. And I'm here… to fight you."
Cirrus (suddenly laughs loudly, echoing across the hall while tousling his hair):
"HAHAHAHAHA!!"
He laughed so hard he leaned forward on the throne, patting his knee. Alexander remained still… though a faint smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth.
Cirrus (finally looking at Arthur, still amused):
"Oh, Arthur… is this a comedy performance before bedtime?"
Arthur (gritting his teeth):
"This isn't a joke! If I'm your heir — then treat me like an equal, or crush me!"
Cirrus (rising slowly, his voice sharp like steel):
"You want to fight me? Is it because you held a sword once without dropping it? Or because you yelled at a party and thought your voice was louder than fire?"
He approached Arthur until they stood face to face.
Cirrus (with a calm smile):
"When I was your age… I'd already killed fifty men. Leaders, traitors, warriors… no one dared raise their voice at me."
He slowly placed his fingers on Arthur's sword.
Cirrus:
"And this sword? If you're not ready to stain it with the blood of those closest to you… it's just a decoration."
He turned away and walked back to the throne, sitting again.
Cirrus (from afar):
"If you want to fight me… wait until you're a man. Until then… don't raise your voice in my presence, my son."
Arthur (trembling, biting his teeth, yanks his sword from the floor):
"I'm not done yet!!"
He charged at Cirrus, his sword ablaze with red flame, his footsteps rumbling across the marble, eyes burning with fury. He raised the sword high:
Arthur:
"Fight me, mighty king!!"
Cirrus didn't move. Just as the sword was about to strike—
"CLACK!"
He caught the blade between two fingers — effortlessly, coldly, without leaving his throne.
Cirrus (bored):
"You're dull."
He released the blade, flinging Arthur backward a step.
Arthur (yelling):
"Take me seriously!!"
He charged again, this time unleashing his fire Vakin to ignite the floor, then launched a flaming punch at his father—
But—
"CLACK!"
Cirrus blocked it with one finger — as if swatting a fly.
Cirrus (smirking):
"A fight? This isn't even warm-up… barely that."
Arthur (panting, sweating, attacks again):
"Stop belittling me!!"
He grabbed his fallen sword, leapt high, and brought it down hard—
"BOOOM!!!"
But Cyrus only raised his foot—
"CRAAAAAAACK!!"
The floor shattered. The room trembled. Debris flew. Arthur was thrown down violently.
Cirrus (leaning slightly):
"You think power is shouting… and leadership is standing above all. But you forgot the first rule—
A true leader never needs to prove himself. Everyone fears him… without a word."
He turned away.
Cirrus (coldly):
"When you're done playing… let me know. I'll teach you how to take your first step toward becoming a killer — not a clown."
He looked to Alexander.
Cirrus:
"Clean up this mess."
Alexander (bowing):
"At once, Your Majesty."
Arthur remained on the floor, breathing heavily, fists clenched, eyes burning with a mix of fury and humiliation… but he did not cry.
To be continued…