The wind in Kaivelle was sharp that evening, whispering secrets between the palace arches and rustling the silken flags hanging from the spires. Inside the crystalline walls of the Skythrone Hall, the air pulsed with anticipation, every breath heavy with purpose. Torches lining the high walls flickered with bluish flames, casting dancing shadows upon the long marble table at the center of the hall, where Queen Maria sat in regal stillness.
Draped in midnight-blue velvet adorned with silver feathers, Queen Maria looked every bit the ruler of Kaivelle — graceful, wise, yet enigmatically distant. Her silver circlet shimmered faintly with the energy of her lineage — a whisper of Kaivelle's ancient magic. The light from the floating crystal lanterns glinted in her emerald eyes, but they were focused far beyond the hall, lost in an invisible storm of thought.
Her council waited silently. Beside her, the grizzled General Thamere tapped a gloved finger on the table. Across from him, Lady Serelle — Mistress of Magical Arts — clutched a parchment glowing faintly with arcane runes.
Queen Maria finally rose.
"I have made a decision," she said, her voice clear, regal, yet touched with something else — curiosity, perhaps even longing.
The council leaned forward.
"We shall host an event," she declared. "A Tournament of Blades and Spells — a test for Magical Knights from across all Kingdoms."
A murmur spread across the hall.
General Thamere raised a brow. "With all respect, Your Majesty... for what purpose?"
She turned toward the stained-glass window behind her. The sunset painted Kaivelle's skies in gold and crimson, like firelight spreading over snow.
"To bring forth the strongest," she replied. "To test resolve, willpower, strength... and to see how shadows move among light."
Lady Serelle frowned. "A trial of alliances, then? Are you seeking a show of power or preparing for war?"
Maria's fingers touched the edge of the table, tracing the carved symbol of the royal crest — a phoenix wrapped in thorns.
"I want to see him," she said, almost to herself.
A hush fell. She rarely let emotions surface in court.
"Him?" General Thamere asked cautiously.
She didn't answer right away.
"Arslan," she finally whispered, the name tasting foreign on her tongue. "The one who was once ignored... yet now surpasses what many consider their limit."
Thamere replied"Who is Arslan?"
Queen Maria replied " The one for which dragon bowed.... I want to know what he hold...."
Serelle's eyes narrowed. "You intend to draw him out through the tournament?"
Maria nodded.
"No one will suspect the true purpose," she said, turning back to face them. Her voice now carried the full weight of command. "Send invitations to every Kingdom. Make the reward substantial. Ancient relics, gold, a title — enough to stir every King and Mage Council across the continent. They must send their finest Knights."
Thamere straightened. "That will draw out bloodlines we haven't seen in decades."
"Good," Maria said. "The stronger the presence, the more clearly he will shine."
Serelle raised her hand gently. "My Queen... forgive me, but why does Arslan matter so deeply to you?"
Maria turned her gaze to the flickering flames again. For a long moment, she said nothing. Then:
"Because something sleeps inside him," she said, voice quiet. "That dragon who bowed for Arslan is a Seer Dragon called by My Grandfather... He said that The dragon bowed only for people relate to Kaivelle..."
A gust of wind swept through the open windows as if affirming her words.
"Perhaps I wish to see if fate will answer when called."
The silence that followed wasn't one of confusion — it was reverence. Every member of the court now understood: this was more than politics. This was personal.
Queen Maria walked forward and looked out toward the Grand Promenade, where the twin moons of Kaivelle were beginning to rise.
"Dispatch the doves," she said. "The world will hear Kaivelle's call."
---
Later that night
In the Chamber of Stars, where only her most trusted thoughts were allowed, Maria sat alone by her private balcony. Wind played with strands of her hair. Her gaze stretched far beyond the moonlit valleys, beyond the floating citadels and enchanted forests, toward a place where her eyes could never truly reach.
"Will you come?" she whispered, not to herself, but to the winds.
A part of her hated thinking about him — the enigma named Arslan. He wasn't nobility. He had no divine sigil. Yet he carried himself with a burden that bent even kings with envy and fear. He wasn't supposed to matter. And yet...
She clenched the railing, a frustrated breath escaping her lips.
"Why do you keep appearing in my thoughts...?"
His eyes — defiant, distant, wounded.
She had seen them once.
Just once.
And it had been enough to burn themselves into her memory.
Meanwhile, across the continent…
Magical scrolls carrying the seal of Kaivelle burst into golden flames upon arrival, unfolding themselves mid-air in front of startled knights, nobles, and council members across lands.
In Embercrest, a kingdom of fire-blood mages, Lord Varvian unrolled the invitation with narrowed eyes.
"Kaivelle's inviting us to a trial? They must be confident…" he said with a smirk, tossing it to his Captain.
In the frozen towers of Nordhelm, Archmage Teren traced the glowing script. "Curious… they offer relics even we do not possess."
And deep in the shadows of the once-forgotten isle of Vorthenmar, a pair of green eyes studied the invitation, lips curling.
"Kaivelle wants blood," the figure said. "Let's bring them something... unforgettable."
---
Back in Kaivelle, Queen Maria stood in her chambers, watching the magical constellation map swirl above her. Dozens of glowing lines marked the paths the invitations would travel.
She placed a hand over her chest.
"Come, Arslan."
A quiet thrill passed through her.
Not love.
Not obsession.
Something else.
A need to understand the storm within another... before it became a tempest no one could stop.
She closed her eyes, whispering softly:
"Let fate cross our paths again... this time, by choice."