The morning sun spilled over the marble streets of Aurelia, but its warmth could not reach the storm within a young boy's heart.
Fifteen-year-old Bravo Lucien walked among the bustling crowd, a faint smile on his face. Yet with every step, the weight of destiny pressed heavier on his shoulders. Today, the empire would decide his worth. Today, he would learn whether he was destined for greatness-or doomed to be forgotten.
Beside him walked his closest friends: Cassian, sharp-eyed and proud; Darius, confident and strong; and Renar, cunning and ambitious. They had grown up together, brothers in all but blood. But now, that very blood threatened to divide them forever.
And then there was Lyra Valen-clever, fearless, and radiant. She had been his first friend, his constant light. Her laughter could scatter the darkness that clung to him, and her eyes... her eyes made him forget the weight of the world.
They reached the Hall of Inheritance, where the Bloodline Test awaited. For centuries, the empire had lived by the Founder King's decree: only those of his blood could wield true power or stand near the throne. All others would be cast aside, unworthy.
One by one, the names were called.
Cassian. The mark appeared-bright and proud.
Darius. The same, glowing across his palm. Renar. Another chosen heir.
Cheers filled the hall as each of Bravo's friends was crowned with destiny's favor. The air shimmered with holy light.
Then came his name.
"Bravo Lucien."
The tribunal's eyes fixed on him. The room went still. He felt their gaze pierce his very soul. A single bead of sweat slid down his temple as he placed his hand upon the altar.
And then... nothing.
No light. No mark. Only silence.
A ripple of gasps swept through the hall. His friends looked away, unsure. Even Lyra's hand trembled, her eyes wide with disbelief and sorrow.
Bravo tried to smile. "It's... fine," he whispered, though his voice cracked under the weight of the lie.
Humiliation scorched his chest, but beneath
it, something darker fire.
If the empire refused him… if blood determined worth… then he would carve his own path. A path beyond kings.
As he turned away from the hall, no one noticed the figure watching from the high balcony—a shadow cloaked in secrecy, eyes gleaming with intent.
That night, Aurelia would sleep in peace.
Tomorrow, nothing would ever be the same.