The crisp Solaran air felt different from Zuna's, sharper, less forgiving. For days after his arrival, Prince Kael moved through Queen Elara's magnificent palace like a ghost. The grand halls, though filled with the hum of courtly life, felt empty without the familiar faces of Zunian guards or the playful echoes of his sister's laughter. Grief was a heavy cloak, wrapping him in sorrow for his lost father and a gnawing worry for Lyra, whom he desperately hoped was safe in Eldoria. He spent hours gazing out of his chambers, convinced he should be training, fighting, anything but living in this gilded cage.
One blustery afternoon, Kael found himself in one of the palace's smaller training yards, idly swinging a practice sword. A loud, challenging voice cut through the wind. "You look like you're practicing for a funeral, Zunian!"
Kael turned to see an older boy, perhaps fourteen, with a shock of fiery red hair and a challenging glint in his eyes. This was Prince Arion, Solara's crown prince. Trailing at his heels was an impossibly small, fluffy creature, like a miniature lion cub, its mane flickering with tiny, harmless flames—his kid fire lion, Blaze.
"I am Prince Kael," Kael stated, his voice tight. "And I mourn my kingdom, Prince Arion."
Arion scoffed, a swagger in his step. "Moping won't win it back. A prince should be ready to fight. Or are Zunian princes only good at hiding?" Blaze let out a low growl, puffing a wisp of smoke.
Anger, hot and sudden, flared in Kael. "I will reclaim my kingdom! And I am no coward!" He gripped his wooden sword tighter.
Arion grinned, a flash of challenge in his eyes. "Prove it, then. A friendly spar. Let's see what Zuna's finest can do." He drew his own practice blade, a distinct, subtle warmth radiating from it, hinting at his inherent magma magic.
The duel was a whirlwind. Kael, fueled by grief and indignation, moved with the swift, precise footwork of Zunian combat. He parried Arion's aggressive strikes, his own blade a blur of defensive and offensive movements. Arion, for his part, fought with raw power and an almost instinctive understanding of force, his strikes heavy and relentless. They were surprisingly matched, each a formidable opponent, neither gaining a clear advantage. The clack and thwack of their wooden swords filled the yard, punctuated by the growls of Blaze, eager at the sidelines.
"Enough!" A calm, clear voice cut through the clash. Princess Seraphina, Arion's younger sister, stood at the edge of the yard, her long, flowing silver hair shimmering in the sunlight, framing a face of striking beauty. Perched delicately on her shoulder was a small, vibrant air eagle named Zephyr, its iridescent feathers ruffled. "This is not the time for unnecessary conflict, brother. Both of you are princes, not street brawlers."
As Seraphina approached, Kael felt his cheeks flush a bright red. He'd never seen anyone quite so captivating. He quickly looked away, suddenly embarrassed by his sweat-soaked appearance and the ferocity of the duel.
Arion, though still breathing heavily, lowered his sword. Kael, heart pounding, did the same. As he stood there, watching Seraphina, Kael felt a profound realization hit him. Arion, though only a couple years his senior, had matched him blow for blow, without the crushing weight of his kingdom's fall, without the desperate urgency of his own future. Kael still had so much to learn, so much more strength to gain, not just with his sword, but with the nascent magic Elder Maeve spoke of. His current weakness was glaringly apparent.
Seraphina's expression softened as she turned to Kael. "Are you alright, Prince Kael? My brother can be... zealous." She offered a small, comforting smile. Kael managed a nod, still feeling the heat in his face. Her presence was like a soothing breeze. "I am sorry for your loss. My brother meant no offense. He just... has a peculiar way of greeting new friends."
"It's... I understand," Kael managed, a small sense of relief washing over him. He felt an instant kinship with Seraphina's quiet understanding, a contrast to Arion's directness. He learned that Seraphina possessed the rare gifts of healing magic and air magic, her small eagle, Zephyr, already showing signs of developing into a powerful ally. Arion, meanwhile, radiated a raw, earthy power from his magma magic and boasted about how powerful Blaze, his fire lion, would become.
As the afternoon wore on, Kael found himself talking freely with Seraphina, feeling the first rays of genuine comfort since leaving Zuna. The shadows of his kingdom still clung to him, but in the company of the compassionate Solaran princess, Kael began to find a flicker of renewed purpose, a determination to train harder than ever. Arion, after their duel, remained somewhat aloof, observing them from a distance, a rivalry still simmering beneath the surface, a friendship yet to be forged.