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Chapter 15 - When Thunder Ages

QUICK RECAP-

Arthur, Ruby, and Adam reach the royal palace after surviving the horrors of the Hollow.

Arthur kneels before King Leontius, begging him to stop James' execution for bearing the cursed Abyssal Ice.

He presents a royal wish-coin from the king's late father, but Leontius coldly refuses - no wish can overturn death for this "plague."

As Arthur's hope dies, an unseen voice interrupts: "Would the coin not work...if I vouch for the boy?"

The throne room chills.

A new piece of storm was about the erupt which included the royal palace, but who is this person.

Read to find out

-RECAP ENDS

Silence didn't breathe.

It froze.

The throne hall stood still as the wind glyphs flickered to low, pulsing once like lungs catching breath beneath stone. No footsteps. No breeze. Just the voice—spoken casually, yet heavy enough to shift the kingdom's center.

"Would the coin not work—if I vouch for the boy?"

Leontius's expression didn't change.

But the Ether behind him did.

The glyph veins running through the wall crackled with restraint. His golden cloak rippled once, as if reacting before he did.

Ronald's hand moved to his sword.

Then stopped.

Because he hadn't sensed the presence.

Not a flicker.

Not a shadow.

The voice had come from nowhere.

Every gaze shifted to the window.

Standing just beyond the curve of the arches, in a frame carved with wind-fused marble, was a figure.

Tall. Slight. Hidden.

Face masked by a deep ragged cloth—grey, torn, wrapped once around the brow and twice over the jaw. But beneath the fabric spilled strands of long, pale white hair. Straight. Unmoving. Glistening under the reflected Ether fire from the throne torches.

The man didn't move.

He just stood.

Arthur's body locked in mid-motion.

Ruby's glyph flared involuntarily—her Light pulse spiking once as if to deflect invisible impact.

Adam stepped half a pace backward.

Ronald blinked, eyes narrowing.

No engine signature.

No glyph spark.

No cast field.

Nothing.

It was as if the man did not exist.

But he spoke.

And the throne heard it.

Leontius stepped forward.

Three crisp strides down the platinum stairs of his dais. The wind around him surged—not out of command, but emotion.

The king's voice dropped half a pitch.

"You speak in veiled tone."

"And hide in light not meant for shadows."

He raised one hand.

"I grant you one chance."

"Reveal yourself. Or pay with your life."

The man did not shift.

Ronald's eyes glinted with caution now.

His grip on Crownsteel tightened.

But still—no sense of threat.

Just stillness.

Arthur exhaled slowly.

His heart raced not out of danger, but confusion.

Because something in the man's form felt familiar.

Not personally.

Historically.

The stance.

The silence.

The words.

They didn't belong to a beggar or rebel.

They belonged to someone who knew the palace.

Maybe…

Who built it.

Leontius moved forward again.

Not rushing.

But imposing.

The temperature dropped.

His Ether Engine pulsed louder.

Wind pressed against the window frame.

Yet the man's hair didn't move.

Even as the breeze sliced through the chamber, he remained untouched.

Ronald muttered, "He's not normal."

Arthur said nothing.

Ruby narrowed her eyes.

Adam whispered, "Why can't I cast-check him?"

Leontius raised his hand.

Five storm rings gleamed against his knuckles.

Pressure tightened around the man.

But no reaction.

And then—

He spoke again.

Calm.

Even.

"I do not speak out of rebellion."

"But your father's coin speaks in law."

His head tilted just slightly, the rag pulling tighter across the jaw.

"You knew it wouldn't work."

"Because you changed the throne."

Leontius didn't blink.

"Name yourself."

The man didn't respond.

Ronald stepped forward.

Wind whipped into frost around his boots.

"Your presence breaches sealed court."

His voice was cold.

Almost mechanical.

"Name yourself or fall."

The man tilted his head the other way.

"You never could hear me, Ronald."

"That is your failure."

Arthur's breath caught.

Ronald stiffened.

Then—

He cast.

Crownsteel surged.

Wind embedded in frost flared outward, striking toward the window.

A streak of pale Ether light sliced the air between Leontius and the man, aimed straight for the intruder's chest.

The blast reached him.

Touched fabric.

Impacted—

And disappeared.

No sound.

No echo.

Not deflected.

Not absorbed.

Erased.

Ronald blinked.

Arthur whispered, "He nullified it…"

Ruby murmured, "Not nullification. Permission."

Adam whispered, "What?"

She stepped forward. "The Ether only activates if the world allows it."

"And the world…"

She stared at the man.

"…respects him."

The man took one step forward.

Not fast.

But with finality.

Leontius's hands tensed.

The throne behind him pulsed once—a wave of wind shivering through its glyph bones.

The man spoke again.

"You would kill me now."

The voice wasn't sad.

Wasn't angry.

Just…

Reflective.

"I watched you grow."

"In sun. In siege. In storm."

"You learned to walk on battlefield ash, not carpeted halls."

"You rejected your father's compromise."

"You rejected me."

Arthur turned sharply.

Ronald's sword lowered slightly.

Leontius's voice flared—

"Who are you?"

The man laughed.

A soft sound.

Not cruel.

Just tired.

He turned his face slightly toward the window's fire line—but still, the rag stayed.

Only the white hair glimmered under torchlight.

Ruby's glyph pulsed again.

A reaction.

Involuntary.

Her skin shivered.

She didn't know why.

But her shield dimmed.

As if the air chose silence.

The man spoke.

His final words of the night.

Soft.

Direct.

"Now you have grown enough…"

"To kill me."

Leontius did not move.

But the room felt it.

The statement wasn't dramatic.

It wasn't challenge.

It was recognition.

The king stared.

Ronald stepped forward again.

Arthur couldn't speak.

Ruby looked pale.

Adam's jaw hung open.

The coin on the floor shimmered.

Once.

Then stopped.

Leontius stared at the man.

The man watched the coin.

And the wind—

Flickered.

As if remembering something it had been sworn to forget.

The coin shimmered once more.

No one breathed.

King Leontius D. Dentrius IV remained still, hands closed near his waist, tension rippling faintly across his cloak. Sir Ronald Klaus didn't speak, but his grip on Crownsteel had slackened.

Arthur knelt—body locked, eyes sharp.

Ruby's glyph hovered near collapse. Adam's cast vein flickered.

And across the throne hall, wrapped in shadow and silver light, stood the man.

Long white hair glinting beneath firelight. Face concealed behind a weathered rag.

Leontius stepped forward.

No fury.

Just expectation.

"Who are you?"

The voice responded once more.

Soft. Graveled. Laced with quiet ruin.

"I was a wanderer once."

"I became a name."

"And then, I erased it."

The man reached up.

Hands wrapped in thin cloth, fingertips callused from roads older than the throne itself. Slowly—deliberately—he peeled the rag from his face.

The cloth fell against his collar.

He revealed himself.

Arthur gasped.

Ruby didn't move.

Adam blinked once, stunned.

Ronald narrowed his eyes—then locked in place.

Leontius didn't breathe.

Because he recognized the man.

The wrinkles were deep, but not weary. Scars layered his cheeks like etched runes, healed over decades. His brows were faded to frost. His eyes—sea-gray, clear, unbroken by age. His jawline still carried the strength of youth, though the skin sagged softly with time.

He was not weak.

Just aged.

And familiar.

Leontius exhaled.

"…Uncle."

The man smiled faintly.

And then spoke his name.

"Trimat D. Dentrius."

Silence unraveled around them.

Only the torches reacted—wind glyphs rippling as the name entered the throne's history again.

Ronald blinked rapidly.

Arthur looked toward the king.

Ruby stepped half a pace forward.

Adam whispered, "What?"

Trimat nodded once.

"You know the name."

"The world called me many things. Adventurer. Ghost. Monster."

He shrugged.

"But mostly…"

"They called me the Tempest Tyrant."

Arthur's heart jumped.

Ronald's mouth parted, unsure whether to draw blade or kneel.

Leontius walked closer.

"You left before my coronation."

"You disappeared before the War of Skyward Chains."

"You missed my father's death."

Trimat smiled faintly.

"I was there."

"You just didn't see me."

Leontius narrowed his eyes.

"You left our family."

"You turned from duty."

"You betrayed the throne."

Trimat didn't flinch.

"I never wanted the throne."

"I was built for movement."

"Not for rule."

"I was born second. But bred first."

"My Ether Engine—Tundra Breeze, 96% potency. The highest in three generations."

"But adventure claimed me before inheritance could."

He stepped forward.

"But I was your uncle."

"And back then…"

"You were still learning how to hold wind."

Leontius blinked.

"I remember you."

Trimat nodded.

"You were seven. Your glyph cracked its second stage. You cried. I pulled the storm out of your veins until it settled."

"You weren't a king then."

"You were a boy who feared losing control."

Arthur shifted.

Ruby's light flared once more.

Adam lowered his arms.

Trimat turned toward the coin lying on the floor.

His voice changed.

From gentle nostalgia—

To steel.

"You asked why I'm here."

"I'm here because that boy carries something your father could never finish."

Arthur's eyes widened.

Leontius frowned.

Trimat turned back.

"James isn't plague-born."

"He's legacy-bound."

Leontius didn't blink.

"You speak of the Abyssal Ice."

"You speak of my father."

"Of your brother."

"The first cursed monarch."

Trimat nodded.

"I couldn't save him."

"He died believing his gift was poison."

"But even poison, in right hands…"

"Becomes medicine."

Leontius stepped down the final stair.

"Sovereignty dies when curse walks freely."

"James is a repeat. A wound not cauterized."

Trimat's voice sharpened.

"Then ask yourself—why did your father give Arthur that coin?"

Leontius paused.

"And why does the Abyssal return not through rebellion… but through a boy born to that man?"

Arthur looked up.

Eyes wet. Silent.

Trimat continued.

"Why did the Hollow let James live?"

"Why did fate carve a route through beasts and stitched abominations and still not kill him?"

"Why did a Light-caster, a Hydro savant, and a flame-tier knight reach this chamber?"

He stepped closer.

"Why, despite every stone placed against him…"

"…does James Rubenblood still stand to be judged?"

Leontius didn't move.

Trimat kept going.

"Because destiny isn't asking you to forgive him."

"It's asking you to finish your father's work."

The room spun quieter.

Ronald didn't stir.

Ruby's light flared again.

Adam's glyph pulsed.

Arthur remained kneeling—every word a blade across hope.

Leontius walked toward the coin.

Looked down.

The Griffin shimmered once.

Trimat said nothing.

Leontius bent slightly.

Held the coin between two fingers.

Looked at it again.

Then—turned to Trimat.

His voice low.

"You believe James is meant to live."

Trimat nodded.

"I do."

Leontius exhaled.

"Then what happens if he kills again?"

"If he loses control?"

"If the Ice Plague consumes Dentrius from within?"

Trimat met his eyes.

"Then you kill him."

"But not before you let him choose."

Leontius turned toward Arthur.

Then toward the empty glyph chair beside his throne—once belonging to Instripo.

He saw nothing but dust.

Memories.

Legacy.

And potential.

Trimat stepped back.

Waited.

No words.

No breath.

Just silence.

The coin shivered in Leontius's hand.

The king closed his fingers around it.

Walked toward the center of the hall.

And stared forward.

Everyone held their breath.

Ronald watched.

Ruby froze.

Adam stepped half a pace backward.

Arthur locked eyes with the king.

Trimat didn't move.

Leontius spoke.

Voice calm.

Steady.

Unbreaking.

"The boy shall…"

**"When Thunder Ages,

Frost Remembers"**

END OF CHAPTER-15

-To Be Continued-

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