The council chamber reeked of smoke and fear. Tapestries still bore the faint scent of ash from the fires of war, and the high-backed chairs creaked as lords and priests shifted with unease.
Prince Aelion stood at the center, the letter with its crimson seal unfurled on the table before them. "This," he said, his voice sharp, "was delivered by shadowed hands. The prophecy is being wielded as a weapon against us. Who among you dares to let such poison spread unchecked?"
Murmurs rippled through the council. The High Chancellor leaned forward, his jeweled rings glittering in the light. "Your Highness, the prophecy is not mere rumor. It is divine scripture. If it says only one shall shine, then—"
"Then you mean for me to choose who must die?" Aelion's voice thundered across the chamber. The lords fell silent, the weight of his fury pressing upon them like a storm.
But in the silence, one priestess—Serenya, her eyes pale and piercing—rose slowly. "The prophecy is not for us to interpret lightly. Yet the shadows grow bold, and if they wield these words as truth, then perhaps it is time you sought clarity beyond mortal tongues, my prince."
The chamber grew restless. To suggest leaving the safety of the palace now was near treason. Yet Aelion caught the flicker in Kealen's eyes from his place at the wall—a silent agreement.
Aelion straightened, his jaw set. "Then let it be recorded: I will not cower behind walls while fate is twisted against me. If prophecy seeks to bind my crown, I will seek the truth of it with my own hands."
The council erupted into outrage. "Reckless!" "You endanger the realm!" "Blasphemy!"
But Aelion raised a hand, and his voice cut like steel. "Enough. You think me weak if I hide. You think me cursed if I rise. I say this—whether sun or shadow, I will not be a puppet."
---
That Night
The council was left in uproar, and under its cover, Aelion and Kealen slipped away into the shadows of the castle. Their footsteps echoed along torchlit corridors until they reached a forgotten stairwell leading to the crypts below.
Kealen carried a lantern, the flame dancing across carvings of ancient kings. "The priestess's words… she meant for us to seek more than scripture. These walls hide truths buried long before your council was born."
They stopped before a sealed archway, its stones marked with celestial sigils. Aelion's fingers traced the carvings, a shiver running through him. "This is older than the crown itself."
With effort, Kealen pushed the stone aside, and they entered a chamber that breathed with dust and starlight. At its center stood a black mirror, its surface rippling as though alive.
Aelion stepped closer, his reflection wavering, bending into something other—his face, but cloaked in shadow. The voice that rose from it was not his own.
> "Sun and shadow are not enemies. They are halves of a whole. But only one may rule the heavens."
The reflection reached outward, its hand pressing against the glass. Aelion's heart thudded violently, his breath shallow.
Kealen grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "Do not touch it." His voice was firm, but Aelion saw the fear in his eyes.
"Kealen…" Aelion whispered, staring at the mirror. "What if the prophecy isn't about destroying each other… but becoming one?"
The chamber went silent, the mirror pulsing faintly as if in answer.