Before he was Flynn Winterbell, heir to a golden throne…
He was Caelan a nameless commoner turned general, a man born from dirt and iron, carved by loyalty, and foolish enough to believe in honor.
And once, long ago… he believed in Khalid.
Five Years Ago — Kingdom of Elaris
"You're not supposed to be here," Caelan muttered, glancing toward the empty corridor behind him. "If Lord Commander catches you, I'll be scrubbing the armory floor for a week."
Khalid leaned casually against the stone wall, arms crossed, the torchlight casting gold across his face and catching in his amber eyes.
"I was curious," he said with that familiar, irritating charm. "You train harder than most nobles I know. I had to see it for myself."
Caelan sighed and turned back toward the training dummy, sweat soaking his collar. "You've seen it. Now leave."
But Khalid didn't leave. He stepped forward instead, picking up Caelan's sword without permission and spinning it with practiced ease.
"You hold back," he said, inspecting the blade. "Even when you fight at your best."
"I fight to survive," Caelan snapped. "Not to impress peacocks like you."
"Ah, but what if you could do both?" Khalid smiled.
There it was again that grin Caelan pretended not to notice. The one that always set something uneasy fluttering in his chest.
"You're a noble," Caelan said flatly. "You've never had to fight for anything but attention."
Khalid met his gaze, and for the first time that night, his smile faltered.
"I fight for more than you think, Caelan. You just haven't seen it yet."
Later that winter — The War Room
Caelan stood at the table, pointing at worn maps while the other officers bickered. Khalid watched in silence from the far end, leaning close only after the room cleared.
"You're wasted here," Khalid whispered.
Caelan frowned. "Is that supposed to be flattery?"
"No. It's a warning."
Khalid's gaze was piercing now. "You're too honest. Too brave. That kind of man is dangerous in the wrong kingdom."
Caelan scoffed. "And yet, I serve it."
"I wonder how long you will."
A few months before the fall — A rooftop in Elaris
They stood under the stars. Not as knight and noble. Not even as rivals.
Just Caelan and Khalid.
The moonlight softened everything Khalid's features, the sharpness in Caelan's voice, the weight between them neither would name.
"Do you ever wonder," Khalid asked suddenly, "what you'd be if you weren't born into this life?"
Caelan blinked. "I wasn't born into it. I earned it."
Khalid nodded slowly, then said:
"If the time ever came to choose… the kingdom or your soul which would you save?"
Caelan looked at him.
"Both."
He meant it.
Khalid only smiled. But it didn't reach his eyes.
The Final Memory — The Night of Betrayal
The smell of ash. The sound of blades. Screams.
And then him.
Khalid, standing at the gates of the burning palace, sword drawn. His gold eyes unreadable.
Caelan staggered forward, wounded, betrayal slashing deeper than steel.
"You—" he rasped. "You said—"
"I said many things," Khalid replied. "Some of them even true."
Caelan collapsed to his knees.
And Khalid just turned away.
Present Day — Flynn's Chambers
Flynn woke with a gasp, cold sweat on his brow.
The dream had felt like a dagger pressed to memory cruel and deliberate.
Five years hadn't dulled it.
Even now, Flynn could still hear the way Khalid said his name not "Your Highness."
Not "Flynn."
Just Caelan.
And now Khalid bowed before him, served his kingdom, guarded his halls.
The world had twisted itself into something unrecognizable.
And the man who killed him… stood just down the corridor.