The cold pre-dawn air of the royal palace clung to the room as James, his voice a low, urgent rasp, sought to pierce Jai's slumber. "Jai, wake up!"
Beside Jai, a small, sleeping figure, Arthur, stirred. His eyes fluttered open, dark pools of innocence catching James's silhouette. Jai himself rubbed the grit from his eyes, slowly rising from the deep embrace of his bed. His gaze fell upon James, then instinctually, his hand reached for a small photo frame resting nearby. In it, he and Emma stood together, a moment frozen in happier times.
James's eyes, quick to notice, narrowed as he stared at the picture pressed against Jai's chest. "Why do you have her photo? And why... why did you place this right on your chest?" he demanded, a strange mix of confusion and intrusion in his tone.
Jai, without a word, snatched the photo from James's outstretched hand. He did not return it to its resting place but tucked it into his necklace storage, a gesture far too deliberate, far too private.
A flicker of shock crossed James's face at the unexpected seriousness. "Whoa, what, man? Why are you so serious? Did I do something to you?" he asked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
Ignoring the question, Jai swung his legs off the bed and walked to the window. Outside, the sky was a muted gray. "It's six o'clock," he stated, his voice flat. "Why did you wake me up this time? See, Arthur also got up because of your voice."
James ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Bro, the Principal Abinay has come to the palace to meet the King and Queen!"
The name shattered the last vestiges of sleep. Jai's body went taut. He moved instantly, gently turning Arthur's small face down into the pillow, securing him in a position of deep, comforting sleep. Little Arthur, compliant and trusting, drifted back into the silent world of dreams.
"What!" Jai whispered, his voice dangerously low. "The Principal is actually here?"
"Yes, man," James affirmed, the urgency returning. "I was in the garden training when Zayn came by. We were sparring for a bit, then a guard rushed up to Zayn and said: 'Prince, the Principal Abinay has come to meet King Borin.'"
James recounted the strange encounter: "Zayn and I were confused. It was only five-thirty. Why would the Principal come this early? We went to meet him. Zayn, ever the minister, asked him straight: 'Mr. Abinay, what is the reason for your visit this morning?'"
"The Principal's reply was bizarre," James continued. "'Mr. Minister,' he said, 'I have come to greet King Borin. Since I became Principal, I haven't had the chance to meet the King in person.' Zayn was even more baffled. 'Mr. Abinay, do you know what time it is? It is five-thirty in the morning!'"
"Then the guy gave us some nonsense about being a 'morning person' and that he was too busy at the academy fulfilling his duties to visit later. He claimed he had to meet the King in person right now. Zayn seemed to compromise, but I was still suspicious. Zayn led the Principal toward the King's room. I came straight here to wake you. Jai... I think something bad is about to happen."
The ominous feeling became a shared current between them. Jai and James bolted, their footsteps muffled thuds on the ancient staircase, rushing toward the King's private chambers. Their goal: to reach the King before the Principal could.
Before they could fully ascend, a loud, echoing sound—a terrifying blend of a crash and a human cry—reverberated through the halls. Their speed redoubled. Jai's mind instantly mapped the palace acoustics; he knew precisely where the sound originated and dragged a winded James in the right direction: the King's Room.
They burst through the doorway.
The scene was chaos. King Borin was slumped, his right hand gruesomely damaged—two fingers mangled and bleeding profusely. The Royal Guards, recovering from the initial shock, immediately swarmed Abinay, subduing him in a brutal, efficient tackle. Abinay, pinned beneath their weight, stared at the injured King with a look of terrifying, unrepentant joy.
"See? You feel the pain, right?" Abinay's voice was a triumphant snarl. "Because my Leader felt the same pain from you! You deserve to die, but I just... missed. But I promise you, one day, you and your people—everyone you seek to protect—are going to die by my King's hand! Your son and daughter are no exceptions!"
King Borin, gripping his throbbing hand, fought past the pain to meet the cruel smile of his attacker. "Who sent you to kill me? What Organization are you with? Who is this 'King'? Answer me!"
Abinay opened his mouth, prepared to utter the truth.
But miles away, perhaps in a different dimension, a figure dressed in a red t-shirt and black pants was watching the scene as if through a virtual lens. The moment the King's injury was confirmed, the figure gave a slight, satisfied smile. "This slave always does things wrongly," he muttered in disgust.
Then, he calmly raised his hand and destroyed a black artifact: a transparent black sphere within which white air gently swirled.
The instant the artifact shattered, Abinay's body began to glow. He was lighting up from within, like a lantern infused with an explosive charge. King Borin, a man of profound knowledge, immediately grasped the implication. "Everyone! Get away from that guy! Now!" he roared.
Abinay's eyes, wide with sudden, fanatic resolve, held one final thought: "This life is for you, my King. I will now sacrifice myself for the greater good that is coming to you."
Then came the explosion.
The impact was cataclysmic, a force of nature unleashed indoors. Every person in the room was thrown backward as if by a giant's hand. The sheer magnitude of the blast destroyed nearly twenty percent of the palace.
Mid-air, spinning uncontrollably, James had a fleeting, absurd thought: "Why? Why does an explosion happen wherever I go? And why do we always get thrown into the air like this?"
When the world stopped spinning, and the ringing in his ears subsided, Jai slowly opened his eyes. He was in a hospital.
On his left, little Arthur was sobbing, clinging desperately to his hand. On his right, Morisa, tears streaming down her face, held his other hand.
Morisa saw his eyes open first. "Zayn! James!" she cried out.
Zayn and James rushed to the bedside.
Jai's eyes scanned the room, a chill of horror replacing the pain of his half-burned body. Everyone was injured.
James had a broken left hand and a broken leg.
Zayn, his usually beautiful features marred by the blast, had burns across his face and body.
Even little Arthur was not spared; both his small legs and hands were severely burned. Only Morisa, miraculously, had escaped injury.
Jai pulled Arthur and Morisa gently into his arms, ignoring the searing pain. "Don't worry, Arthur, your big brother is fine. Nothing can take me away from you," he whispered, a promise and a reassurance.
He then met Zayn's eyes—a fierce, questioning gaze that demanded answers. Zayn understood. Jai had a thousand doubts, but first, he needed to heal.
"Don't worry," Zayn said, his voice strained but calming. "The doctor said she is going to cure us all. I know her very well. She is a Tier 6 Healing Elemental Master."
He continued, his words a balm of hope. "She has mastery over Wind, Earth, and Tree powers, which she uses to create potent medicines. She also possesses a Tier 6 Healing Artifact. She will cure us. Don't worry, just rest. I promise, I will clarify all your doubts after you wake up from your next sleep."
As the drugs took hold, pulling him back toward unconsciousness, Jai's mind spun with unanswerable questions:
Who is this King? Is he the man with black hair and red eyes? What was the true purpose of Abinay's sacrificial assassination attempt?
Jai drifted away, a silent scream of uncertainty echoing in his mind, with no one to clarify the dark mysteries that now threatened his world.