The morning light in the Capitol felt sharper than usual, cutting through the jeweled glass of my chambers and scattering a cascade of colors across the marble floor. I sat before my vanity, but my hands rested idly on the polished surface instead of preparing myself for the morning court. The whispers that had filtered through the palace corridors all night still lingered in my ears. The Seeker. The Abandoned Dark Prodigy. Whatever name one chose, it was the same figure who had overturned the battlefield in a matter of hours. Reports said Elara's elite strike force had engaged him directly, that the clash had been vicious and without clear resolution. Yet the way the messengers spoke, there was a tremor of unease in their voices, as though they had seen a shadow pass over the heart of the realm itself.
I had only heard his name in scattered fragments before. Whispers of a boy, discarded and forgotten, rising from nothing to challenge the most dangerous players on the continent. Some dismissed him as a weapon wielded by an unseen master. Others painted him as a lone wanderer driven by fury. Now, after last night's reports, I knew neither description was enough. I had to see him for myself.
The court would be in uproar today. My father, the King, would try to present calm authority, but the older councilors would gnaw at the edges of control like dogs worrying a bone. My rivals for the throne would already be adjusting their strategies. The succession had been an open question for years, each of us proving ourselves in politics, diplomacy, and subtle games of influence. But something about this Seeker changed the balance. I could feel it, though I could not yet name the reason.
I rose from the vanity and walked toward the arched window. Below, the Capitol was waking in measured chaos. Messengers in royal colors darted through the streets toward various ministries. Soldiers in black and crimson, the King's Guard, marched in larger formations than usual, patrolling not just the palace walls but also the inner districts. The air itself carried the taste of iron, as though war had reached us without ever crossing the gates.
At the sound of knocking, I called for the visitor to enter. My attendant, Mirielle, stepped inside carrying a lacquered tray. She set it down, revealing a sealed envelope marked with the royal cipher.
"This was delivered by special courier, Highness," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "From the War Council."
I broke the seal and scanned the contents quickly. They were requesting my immediate presence in the council chamber, citing matters of succession readiness and foreign intelligence. I could almost laugh at the hypocrisy. Weeks ago, my rivals and I were told to keep our distance from the council's affairs unless summoned for ceremonial input. Now they wanted me in the thick of it because the situation was volatile. That alone confirmed my suspicion.
When I entered the council chamber, the air was thick with tension. Maps of the northern territories lay spread across the long table, weighted down by crystal spheres and silver knives. Markers showed the shifting lines of battle and the location of reported sightings of the Seeker.
My father sat at the head of the table, flanked by two of his most trusted advisors. His face was composed, but his eyes were sharper than glass. "You are aware of last night's events," he said without preamble.
I inclined my head. "The reports were vague but troubling."
"They were vague because no one truly understands what happened," Lord Kaedric, the Minister of Defense, said, his voice deep and gravelly. "Elara's forces engaged the Seeker. They were prepared, they were trained, and still they barely managed to survive. There was no decisive outcome, but the scale of destruction suggests the Seeker is operating far beyond the capabilities of any normal combatant."
"And yet he lives," I said softly.
Kaedric gave me a grim look. "Worse. He may have grown stronger from the engagement. Elara has retreated for now, but she will strike again."
The council turned its attention back to my father. "We cannot afford to remain ignorant," he said. "Our informants are already working to track his movements. But given your… interest in unorthodox diplomacy, I am tasking you to prepare an alternative strategy. If an opportunity arises to turn the Seeker from a threat into an ally, we must seize it."
That single order sent a ripple through the room. Several councilors exchanged sharp glances, no doubt calculating the political implications. The King had just given me a mandate no other candidate for the throne possessed.
After the session, I lingered near the table, studying the reports more closely. One detailed the battle in vivid but fragmented detail. The Seeker moved like a storm, targeting enemy leaders and dismantling formations with precise, devastating force. Some witnesses swore they saw him vanish and reappear, others claimed he bent the very flow of magic around him. The truth was likely a blend of skill and perception, but the effect was the same. He turned disciplined soldiers into panicked prey.
I left the chamber knowing my course. If I could reach him before my rivals, if I could understand what drove him and perhaps earn his trust, I could tilt the succession in my favor. Not just by claiming strength, but by showing the ability to command the loyalty of one who could stand against entire armies.
That night, I convened a private meeting with my most trusted agents. The small chamber was lit only by a single lantern, casting long shadows across their faces. I spread the reports before them.
"We are not to speak of this outside this room," I began. "Our task is to track the Seeker, not to kill or capture him. We observe, we study, and if the opportunity presents itself, we make contact."
One of them, a lean man named Corin, frowned. "And if he attacks us?"
"Then you survive," I replied. "Your lives are worth more to me than a failed first impression."
Over the next week, the Capitol shifted further into a quiet frenzy. My rivals moved their own pieces, sending spies north and currying favor with the council. Publicly, I maintained a role of calm engagement, attending ceremonies, hearing petitions, and even visiting the orphanage district to reinforce my image as a benevolent choice for the crown. Privately, my agents fed me fragments of the Seeker's trail. He had vanished after the battle, slipping past even Elara's hunters. That alone intrigued me.
One evening, as I stood on my balcony overlooking the glowing lights of the city, Mirielle approached with a sealed message. I recognized Corin's code on the wax.
"He's been sighted," I murmured after reading it. "Northwest trade road, moving alone."
The timing was perfect. My rivals were busy preparing for a state dinner that I could now conveniently miss without raising suspicion. I ordered my fastest rider to prepare a discreet escort and sent word for Corin to shadow the Seeker's path.
As I dressed for travel, a strange excitement coiled in my chest. This was not mere political maneuvering anymore. It was the sense of stepping toward something rare and dangerous, something that could reshape the future.
When we rode out under the cloak of night, the Capitol's towers receded into the darkness behind me. The wind was cold, carrying the scents of pine and distant rain. Somewhere ahead, the Seeker walked the same earth, perhaps unaware that the fate of a kingdom was beginning to entwine with his own.