The Royal Training Hall
The gentle ring of boots on shiny stone reverberated through the palace corridors. Victor marched alongside his parents—King Ben and Queen Anna—while the air surrounding them hung heavy with silence.
Each servant they encountered bent low, every armored sentry saluted crisply, but not Ben or Anna did break their composed faces. Their strides were firm, intent. Still, the deference etched into each movement hung in the air, and Victor was made intensely conscious of where he stood.
He attempted not to stare, but his eyes betrayed him. The inner halls of the palace were like strolling through a dream of gold and artistry—wall murals inscribed into the walls, chandeliers that shone like frozen starlight, pillars with lions that appeared as if about to spring into battle. His eyes roved everywhere, searing each detail into his memory. He had never been in luxury before, nor was he inexperienced in it now, but this side of the palace… he never had been.
He paused once, following his eyes along a gilded archway, but composed himself at once. Anna noticed anyway.
"My son," she said gently, a low laugh beneath her voice, "you're a bit lost. Do you have any idea where I'm leading you?"
Victor's lips parted but he paused, the slightest curve of a smile. "…Yes. I've never gone into this wing at all.
Ben laughed low, the low, rumbled sound that came from deep within his chest. "It's only natural. This area of the palace is concealed even from the majority of the family. Only those who wake their cultivation set foot here. Up to this point, you never had the opportunity."
Anna's smile faltered, her voice dipping. "…Because up to this point, you had not awakened."
Her words quivered on the edges. She rapidly averted her face, but Victor caught the aftersheen in her eyes.
Please slow down, turning to her. "Mother." His voice was tender, but firm. "Don't cry. Don't worry. That time has gone. Now—I have woken up. I can grow."
Anna blinked rapidly, her control shattering into a nervous smile. She nodded weakly, touching her fingers against his arm.
Ben's look gentled, pride tinged with relief. "Our son is right. The past is past. What counts is today." He looked down the corridor at the imposing double doors waiting at the hall's end. "Come. It's time you witness the heart of our legacy."
They proceeded.
Two guards in armor stood in front of the doors, their steel shining under the light of the lanterns. The Lionheart insignia—an elaborate lion's head—was deeply embossed on their breastplates. Their demeanor exuded discipline, but as Ben moved closer, they bowed simultaneously.
"Your Majesty," they said in unison.
Ben nodded once. "Stand aside.
Without delay, they stepped back, clearing the way as he pressed his hands against the great golden doors. With a deep, echoing groan, the doors swung inward, pouring light down the hallway.
Victor blinked, his breath suspended.
The chamber was huge, a cathedral of stone and soul. The air itself vibrated with life—dense with mana that pulsed like a heartbeat, pushing against his flesh, draining into his veins. The columns, intricately carved with runes, stood like titans, and the marble floor glowed dimly with symbols too old to read.
As he entered, a rush of power enveloped him. His body tensed, then gradually untensed as if his cells were soaking up the energy. He curled his fists, flexing his fingers—he felt stronger, crisper, as if each muscle and vein was charged with a new current.
Victor, Violte's voice hummed inside his head, silken and warm. This location. it's filled with mana. If you practice here, your progress will increase tenfold. Are you prepared, my love?
A grin pulled at his lips. Naturally. With you always by my side.
Anna's voice pulled him back. "Well, son? What do you think of the royal training hall?"
Victor faced her, his purple eyes shining. "It's lovely, Mother. Just like you."
She blinked, shocked for a moment, before laughter relaxed her face. Her hand touched his cheek gently.
Ben arched an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "And what about me, boy? Am I invisible now?"
Victor grinned, leaning his head to one side. "You're not beautiful, Father. You're handsome."
For once, Ben was left without words, gaping at his son with an amazed look. Anna laughed, putting her hand over her mouth.
"Ben," she taunted, "you've just opened your mouth and already your son teases you."
Victor chuckled quietly, the comfort of family spilling in his chest.
Ben glared at the two of them, but the corner of his mouth quivered. "Look at you two—plotting against me. Hmph. I'll hold that against you."
Anna crept near with a wicked smile that guaranteed no escape. "Oh? Say that again, husband. I dare you."
Ben froze, then struggled to muster a weak laugh. "…Nothing. Just a joke." His hand massaged the back of his neck. "Anyway, let us not waste time. Victor."
The king stood tall, his voice booming throughout the chamber. "Today, I give you a gift."
Victor blinked, his curiosity honed. "A gift?"
He had not been prepared for this. What could his father possibly mean?
Ben grinned, lifting his palm. The air shuddered, mana concentrating until with a harsh crack, a mass of pure white lightning burst into being in his hand. The energy spat and snapped, filling the room with a wild, unbridled aura.
The light illuminates his face in brilliance, shadows dancing upon the walls. The mood changes at once—the comfort of family succumbing to naked, blinding power.
This," Ben's voice boomed, "is your gift, my son—Fallen Lightning."
The room itself paused as if the palace itself knew the significance of what was to take place.