(Morning on Woewyn)
The portal closed with a sound like silk being cut.
Damon inhaled Woewyn's morning air — pale, cool, almost too gentle. The early light washed the kingdom in quiet blues and soft shadows. It should've grounded him. It should've made everything feel normal.
But instead, he felt… smaller.
Like all of Woewyn had shrunk around the single warmth still lingering on his lips.
"Strange," he thought. "How one kiss can make an entire kingdom feel like an afterthought?"
Queen Thessa stepped out beside him. Her eyes held the faint, aching softness of someone who had just reopened an old wound and touched something warm inside it.
"You should rest," she said quietly. "Your body isn't tired. Your emotions on the other hand..."
Damon nodded — but rest wasn't where his feet carried him.
Not yet.
Daichi was asleep outside Damon's quarters, curled against the wall like a living mountain. The moment Damon stepped near, Daichi's ears twitched. He woke with a sharp, joyful huff and bounded to him, tail slamming the ground hard enough to shake dust loose.
He sniffed Damon once. Twice. Paused…
Then shoved his nose directly against Damon's wrist.
The bracelet.
Daichi pulled back with a smug, wolfish sound somewhere between a bark and a laugh.
Damon groaned. "Don't start."
Daichi's voice rumbled in Damon's mind, warm and teasing:
"So you finally told her."
Damon rubbed the wolf's head. "Yeah. She… wanted to see you too."
Daichi perked immediately. "Truly?"
"Truly."
Daichi stepped back a few paces. Then, out of nowhere, he shrank — shrinking, shrinking — fur folding inward until he was the size of Hazel, a tiny puppy with wide golden eyes.
Damon blinked. "…What."
Then Daichi expanded — exploded outward — growing larger than the last time Damon had seen him, easily large enough to ride.
Damon stared at him.
"You're evolving again?"
Daichi puffed up proudly. "You must grow too."
Damon exhaled through a laugh.
Woewyn felt real again.
"DAMON!"
Nyra burst into his room wearing her temporary royal mantle like she had stolen it from a wardrobe and sprinted here before anyone could take it back.
Then she froze.
Her eyes went wide.
"…You're smiling."
"I'm not," Damon said, too fast.
"Oh you definitely are. What did she do? Did she kiss you? She kissed you, didn't she—"
"Nyra."
Nyra lunged for his wrist. Damon immediately hid it behind his back.
Nyra squinted, leaning so close she nearly headbutted him.
"…You're hiding the wrist. You got a gift."
Damon sighed.
"You're insufferable."
Nyra grinned, victorious. "Finally, some romance in your boring, gloomy life."
She hovered there for a moment, watching him with a rare softness.
"You know… I'm really happy for you."
Damon looked away, embarrassed, but grateful.
He cleared his throat. "What did you do with the cave crystals?"
Nyra's eyes sparkled. "Oh. Come see."
Nyra led Damon to the canyon where the training fields were built along sharp cliffs and echoing stone ledges.
Damon's eyes widened.
Natural Knights, Suited Ones, and even regular soldiers were running the canyon trails of Resonant Stride. Some in near perfection, some in poor synchronization. Energy pulsed with every step — glowing footprints, resonant dust, pulsing Ki trails.
Nyra crossed her arms with pride.
"I promised some diamonds of the Chosen One to anyone who reached the last marker."
Damon stared at her. "You bribed the entire army?"
"Yes."
She beamed.
"And they're working harder than ever."
Damon shook his head. "You'd make a good Queen."
Nyra froze.
Then she shoved him lightly, face red. "Shut up… idiot."
He smirked. "We also have a very greedy army."
"Shut up!."
Meanwhile, Thessa returned to the throne room. Bravira sensed it instantly.
"Your heart feels heavy," she murmured. "But peaceful. That is… rare."
Thessa sat down carefully. "I saw someone I never thought I'd see again. Surprisingly he was glad to see me."
Bravira bowed her head in respect. "Then may that peace remain."
A mutual, wordless understanding passed between them — the kind only old friends share.
Hazel popped out of a glowing bloom while Damon walked back into the castle.
She sniffed him once. Then her wings fluttered dramatically.
"You smell… different."
"Hazel…"
"Oh-ho-ho! You reek of human affection. And—" she gasped at the bracelet, pressing both hands to her cheeks,
"—A LOVE TALISMAN!? Damon! My boy! You're moving FAST!"
Damon buried his face in his hand.
Hazel tapped the bracelet. Her eyes darkened.
"Careful. Symbols given in love amplify emotion. If it breaks while your heart is fragile…"
She fluttered back.
"Something dangerous may happen."
Damon swallowed.
Hazel's aura softened into awe.
"I haven't smelled love this strong since King Thalor and the Queen."
Damon froze.
Hazel winked.
"But don't think about that too hard.
He entered the throne room.
Nyra was sitting sideways on the Queen's throne, one leg dangling over the armrest.
Damon grabbed her by the back of her collar and lifted her off the throne with one hand.
Thessa didn't even look up.
"Both of you. Sit down."
They sat.
Thessa steepled her fingers. "The Trineum Festival is in five days."
Damon tensed.
"It is not harmless," she continued. "It is the event where kingdoms quietly measure young heirs."
Bravira spoke bluntly.
"If you refuse to join, all kingdoms including Woewyn, interpret it as weakness."
Nyra added, "And then we get into war. Again."
Damon rubbed his forehead.
"Why do I have to join? I was terrible at this stuff."
Draven says "At the end of this, one child from each kingdom represents Woewyn. So far it has been Cythera but her abilities far surpass her peers. Now we hope for that responsibility to fall on you."
Cythera cleared her throat.
"You are the prince. That alone demands participation. Which is why you should attended history lessons."
Damon scoffed.
Cythera continued, calm and sharp.
"But since you believe you're 'bad' at this… let's test you."
Damon arched an eyebrow.
"We go to the training hall," she said. " And you show us what you can do now. Since you recently had your first Purge."
Varnex, Draven, Thorpax, and even Cythera nodded.
Damon sighed.
"Fine."
At the training hall...
Solaren stepped into the center, his voice calm and instructive.
He demonstrated several light-based abilities — aura projection, afterimage footwork, focused strikes, stabilizing orbs, and soul-anchoring light.
Each time, he asked:
"Can you do this?"
And each time: Damon did it.
Perfectly.
Effortlessly.
Thorpax stared. "...How is he doing this without training?"
Draven folded his arms.
"Tolrex told me his growth surged one night — but the pain was unbearable. That's the price of growth at his scale."
Bravira murmured, almost proud,
"And he continued to train after that? That is true strength."
Varnex nodded.
"We must take advantage of his momentum."
Solaren approached Damon.
"You're brushing against light's movements. That's why everything is awakening."
Damon exhaled, unsure whether to feel proud or terrified.
The doors opened.
Twin sisters — Meyren and Seren — entered carrying a long, frost-lined case.
"Damon. Time for a test."
Cold vapor spilled out as they opened it.
Inside lay twin daggers carved from shadow-tempered alloy, etched with memory-thread runes.
Deadly. Silent. Crafted like fractured moonlight.
Damon touched a blade.
It pulsed beneath his fingers — as if recognizing him.
"Give them a whirl," Meyren urged.
Damon obeyed. He moved.
Not like a prince.
Not like a trainee.
Like someone reenacting 916 years of instinct.
His body blurred — leaps, spins, cuts, reverse-grip slashes — each motion meant to kill, each strike tracing silent arcs of silver. The air whistling as the blades seem to cut it.
He landed in a crouch, one leg forward, blades pointed behind him like a true shadow warrior.
Seren whispered, emotional, "He fights like big brother…"
Damon turned.
"…Who's your brother?"
The twins looked at the Queen.
Thessa nodded.
They said in perfect unison:
"We're your aunts."
Damon blinked hard.
"You look like you're in your twenties."
Meyren flicked his forehead.
"Well we are Woewyners afterall."
Seren ruffled his hair.
"It was never the right time to tell you."
Damon bowed his head slightly.
"…Thank you. For the daggers. Aunt Seren. Aunt Meyren."
They lit up like fireworks.
Later.
Damon stood alone in the caverns, crystals reflecting soft blue light across the stone.
Daichi lounged above him on a rock, watching quietly.
Damon tightened his grip on the daggers, thinking of Natsuki.
Of the bracelet.
Of how close he came to losing her when he fought the demon.
Light gathered around him.
From far above, Bravira watched with the Queen.
Bravira whispered, awed:
"His movements… they're brushing against light's behaviour."
Thessa's voice was soft.
"…He's changing."
Below them, Damon paused his training. He looked at the bracelet.
He whispered:
"I'll win.
No matter what comes.
This is a chance to grow stronger...
even if the Purge hits again."
The crystals brightened around him — as if answering.