The gardens of the Holy Palace stretched beneath a canopy of stars, their emerald lawns and star-shaped oaks bathed in moonlight, the air rich with the scent of roses and dew.
Kael Vaelor, the illegitimate prince of Veltharia, walked beside Elshua, the Spark of Aeloria, his plain cloak brushing the marble path, his emerald eyes softened by the saint's easy company.
At fourteen and a half, Kael's dark curls were tousled, his bronze skin catching the faint glow of the glowing oaks, his guarded demeanor unraveling in the warmth of Elshua's presence.
Elshua, with his golden hair cascading like sunlight and golden eyes shimmering with divine light, wore a simple robe of pale gold, its sun-embroidered hems swaying as he led the way through the grove.
Their conversation, a delicate weave of Veltharia's seas and Aeloria's fountains, had flowed naturally, and Kael found himself at ease, a rarity in his life of courtly scorn.
As they paused by a star-shaped oak, its leaves pulsing faintly, Elshua shared a tale of a clumsy Exarch tripping during a procession, his voice light, his golden eyes glinting with mischief.
"He tried to blame the cobblestones," Elshua said, his smile teasing, "but we all saw the wine goblet in his hand."
The image, absurd and vivid, caught Kael off guard, and a laugh burst from him, bright and unguarded, his head tilting back, his emerald eyes sparkling.
The sound echoed in the quiet grove, and Kael froze, his laughter cutting off, his face flushing as he realized his lapse in manners. In Veltharia's court, such a display would earn sneers, a reminder of his lowborn blood.
"I—I'm sorry," Kael stammered, his voice low, his hands fidgeting with his cloak, his emerald eyes darting to Elshua.
"That was… improper. I forgot myself, Saint Elshua. It won't happen again."
His Veltharian accent thickened with his embarrassment, and he braced for reproof, the Empress Dowager's cold voice echoing in his mind, berating his every misstep.
Elshua's chuckle, soft and warm, dispelled the tension, his golden eyes crinkling with amusement.
"No need for apologies, Your Highness," he said, his voice gentle, his smile disarming.
"A laugh's worth more than a hundred courtly bows out here. Besides, that story's meant to make people laugh—it's no fun if you hold back."
He tilted his head, his golden hair catching the moonlight, his manner easy, though inside, Jun's mind buzzed:
He's opening up, good. Keep him comfortable, learn what you can about the envoy.
Elshua's kindness was calculated, a subtle push to bolster Kael's confidence, knowing the prince's outcast status from Requiem of the Fallen.
Kael's flush lingered, but his shoulders relaxed, a tentative smile tugging his lips.
"You're… not like the priests back home," he said, his voice soft, his emerald eyes searching Elshua's face.
"They'd have me reciting protocols for a week for laughing like that."
He paused, then added, his tone cautious, "You're sure it's fine? I don't want to… disrespect you, or Aeloria."
His vulnerability, rare and raw, flickered through, a boy seeking acceptance beyond his title's weight.
Elshua's smile softened, his golden eyes warm, his heart steady despite Jun's racing thoughts:
He's so young, so unsure. He's not the hero yet, just a kid like me.
"No disrespect," he said, his voice sincere.
"The gardens don't care about protocols, and neither do I right now. Come on, let's head back—I'll show you a shortcut to the banquet hall, unless you want to stay lost all night."
He gestured to a path winding through rosebushes, his tone teasing, inviting Kael to follow.
Kael nodded, his smile shy, his emerald eyes brighter.
"A shortcut's good," he said, his voice steadier, falling into step beside Elshua.
As they walked, he muttered to himself, barely audible, "Don't mess this up, Kael. He's a saint, not a friend. Be proper, keep your head."
But Elshua's easy laughter, his lack of judgment, loosened the knot in Kael's chest, and their talk resumed—small things, like Veltharia's starry nights and Aeloria's glowing oaks, safe topics that let Kael breathe.
The path led to the palace's grand hall, its arched doors carved with suns, light and music spilling through.
The banquet was in full swing, the cavernous chamber of marble and gold alive with the clink of goblets and the hum of voices.
Cardinals in crimson robes mingled with Exarchs in white, their laughter bright, while Holy Knights stood at the edges, their armor gleaming.
Duke Arvandus Vael sat at the high table, his blue velvet cloak striking, his gray eyes sharp as he conversed with High Priest Tormund, whose ruddy face glowed with rosewine. High Priestess Mirene, her gray hair glinting, listened nearby, her staff at her side.
Kael hesitated at the threshold, his cloak plain among the Veltharian attendants, his heart sinking at the thought of rejoining the crowd, Arvandus's disdain waiting like a blade.
Elshua stepped forward, his robe catching the light, his presence a quiet radiance that seemed to draw the very air into stillness.
The hall fell silent, a wave of reverence rippling through as eyes turned to the Spark of Aeloria.
Cardinals paused mid-sentence, their goblets frozen, their crimson robes rustling as they recognized the saint whose divine light was Aeloria's heart.
Exarchs lowered their heads, their white robes shimmering, awed by the boy who channeled Aeloria's miracles, his golden hair and eyes a living testament to her favor.
Holy Knights stiffened, their hands on hilts, not in threat but in honor, their lion crests gleaming as they stood taller for the Spark who inspired their oaths.
Even the Veltharian attendants, unfamiliar with Aeloria's faith, hushed, sensing the weight of Elshua's presence, his ethereal grace a force that transcended empires.
As one, they bowed, their robes rustling, their heads lowered in deference, waiting for Elshua's response, the silence heavy with anticipation and respect.
Kael, unnoticed beside him, stood frozen, his emerald eyes wide, his breath caught at the sight.
He's their soul, he thought, his mind reeling. The Spark of Aeloria, their light incarnate. Every eye, every bow—for him. And he was laughing with me, like I'm… someone.
The reverence, the power Elshua commanded without effort, left Kael in awe, his heart pounding at the saint's divinity and kindness.
Elshua, unfazed, raised a hand, his smile serene, his golden eyes sweeping the room with gentle authority.
"Please, continue," he said, his voice clear, carrying a quiet power that resonated in the hall.
"Goddess Aeloria's light shines in joy, not silence."
His words broke the spell, and the banquet resumed, voices rising, goblets clinking, though eyes lingered on him, reverent and curious, whispers of "the Spark" rippling through the crowd.
Elshua turned to Kael, his smile warm, oblivious to the prince's awe.
"Here we are, Your Highness," he said, his voice soft. "The banquet's livelier than the gardens, but you'll manage. Safe travels in Lumora."
He glanced slightly, his robe swaying, and slipped away, his golden hair vanishing into the corridor.
Kael stood rooted, his heart pounding, his emerald eyes following Elshua's retreat. The saint's kindness, his divine presence, his laughter in the gardens—it seared into Kael's memory, a light he'd carry forever.
I'll never forget him, he thought, his voice silent, his cloak forgotten. Elshua, the Spark. He treated me like a prince, like I matter, when all of Aeloria bows to him.
The banquet's noise washed over him, but he felt apart, touched by Aeloria's light in a way Veltharia's court never offered.
He rejoined the Veltharian table, Arvandus's glance sharp but distracted, and Kael sat, his mind on the saint, his resolve hardening to prove himself, not for the empress, but for the boy who saw him.
In his chambers, Elshua exhaled, his back against the door, his golden eyes wide, his heart racing. The frescoed ceilings, silken tapestries, and canopied bed of his room were a blur as he sank to the floor, his robe pooling around him.
"I can't believe it," he whispered, his voice trembling, Jun's shock spilling free.
"Kael Vaelor, the protagonist of Requiem of the Fallen, right there, in the gardens. Talking to me, laughing with me."
He ran a hand through his golden hair, his mind a storm.
He's so young, so… human. Not the hero yet, just a kid carrying too much. Why's he with the envoy? What's Veltharia planning?
Elshua's encounter was no accident. He'd shown himself deliberately, his kindness a calculated act to elevate Kael's standing, knowing the prince's outcast status from the novel.
He's got no one in Veltharia, Jun thought, his golden eyes narrowing. The Empress Dowager must have sent him to fail, but I can help him shine, even a little. If he stands taller, maybe he'll change the story's path—our path.
Elshua's brief appearance at the banquet, guiding Kael back, was a subtle signal to the court: the prince was worthy of the saint's time, a gesture to lift Kael's reputation among the Veltharians and Aelorians alike.
It was a small push for Kael, but in Requiem, small ripples could shift fates.
He rose, pacing the marble floor, his sandals soft, his thoughts racing.
"The envoy's here for something big," he murmured, his voice low, Jun's analytical mind at work.
"Aeloria's neutral, so Veltharia's move is risky. Kael's a pawn, but he's here, a year early. The novel didn't mention this—why now?"
He paused by the window, Lumora's spires glowing under the stars, his golden eyes reflecting their light.
"I need to dig deeper—library records, Seraphius's insights, anything on Veltharia's past envoys. If Kael's here, the story's shifting, and I've got to stay ahead."
Elshua's training with Seraphius had honed his skills—Mendlight, Aegis, Bless, Grand Cross, Dawnshard, Holy Chains, and Heartsmite's passive regeneration—but knowledge was his true weapon.
The mystery of his drained energy three years ago, the monastery's betrayal, and now Veltharia's gambit were threads in a tapestry he had to unravel to defy Requiem of the Fallen's tragic arc.
Kael's presence was a wildcard, a chance to alter the story, but also a danger if Elshua misstepped.
"He's not the hero yet," he said, his voice firm, his golden eyes blazing. "But he will be. I can help him get there, and maybe save us both."
He sat at his desk, pulling a parchment and quill, his hand steady despite his nerves. He'd write to Caelan at the World Academy, sharing only the envoy's arrival, keeping Kael's meeting private.
Caelan's letters, filled with tales of sparring and friendships, were a beacon, and Elshua needed his friend's perspective, even from afar.
The woven cord and wooden lion from Caelan rested beside a rosebud charm, symbols of his anchors—Seraphius's wisdom, Caelan's bond, the Holy Empire's faith.
The Veltharian envoy, Kael's laughter, and Elshua's own resolve were new threads, weaving a future where the Spark of Aeloria would shine, not fade.
***
Author: Sorry for the very late update, I just don't have the motivation these days (╥﹏╥).
Thanks for support! We got this!