Two years.
The countdown had reached zero. The internal clock that Stars had been watching since infancy finally struck the hour. Today was not just a celebration of birth; it was an emancipation.
He stood before a tall mirror in the nursery, his arms held out like a scarecrow while three maids fussed over him. The attire was stifling. It was a miniature replica of a nobleman's court dress: a deep indigo tunic embroidered with silver thread, trousers of stiff silk, and a small cape clasped with the Myers crest—a stylized sword piercing a star.
"He looks like a little Prince," one maid cooed, smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle.
"No," Ariel said from the doorway. She was radiant in a gown of midnight blue that seemed to shimmer like the night sky. "He looks like a Myers."
Stars adjusted his collar, analyzing the fabric. High thread count. Imported silk. Impractical for combat, optimized for status display.
"Come, my Star," Ariel beckoned. "The carriage waits. Today, the world gets to see you."
They descended the grand staircase to the main courtyard. Darran was waiting there, dressed in a military uniform of stark black and silver, medals gleaming on his chest like captured constellations.
The Abyss was quiet today, but the weight of his presence was undeniable.
But it was the vehicle that captured Stars' attention.
It was a carriage of absurd luxury, gilded in gold and silver, the family crest emblazoned on the door. But the beasts harnessed to it were not horses. They were massive, their coats a blinding, unnatural white. Their manes flowed like liquid silk, and their eyes burned with a pale blue luminescence. They pawed the cobblestones, the sound echoing like hammer strikes.
Unknown fauna. Biological threat level: High.
"Frost-Manes," Darran said, noticing his son's stare. "They are bred in the Northern wastes. They do not tire, and they do not fear."
Perched on the driver's seat, reins held loosely in gloved hands, was Greyson. He looked down at Stars and offered a rare, slight nod.
They boarded the carriage. The interior was upholstered in velvet, insulating them from the noise of the wheels. As the carriage lurched forward, passing through the Iron Gates that had been Stars' prison for two years, he pressed his face against the glass.
The world rushed by. Green fields, dense forests, distant farmhouses with smoke curling from chimneys. It was vast. It was chaotic. It was beautiful.
"You have been looking at the map in your head," Ariel said, settling beside him. "Now look at the reality."
"Where are we going?" Stars asked. His vocabulary was now sophisticated, his voice steady.
"To the Main Castle," Ariel explained. "What you know as home is merely our private retreat. The Myers hold court in the Castle."
She gestured to the passing landscape.
"You must understand where we stand, Stars. We are in the heart of the continent. This is the Carnian Empire."
Carnian Empire. A new file opened.
"It is the center of the world," she continued, her voice taking on the tone of a lecturer. "Our King is of the Drakenhof lineage. He is a just man, imposing and wise. But even a King needs pillars to hold up the sky."
She held up eight fingers.
"There are Eight Noble Families. The Eight Pillars. We sustain the Empire. We guard its borders, manage its wealth, and wield its magic."
She ticked them off on her fingers, and Stars memorized the names instantly.
"Leone. Valerius. Sterling. Corvis. Solara. Eisen. Ashford." She paused on the last finger.
"And Myers."
She looked at Darran, who was watching the horizon with his unreadable expression.
"We are the Sword of the Empire," she said with quiet pride. "Among the Eight, we are the strongest in military might. Your father is a Duke, but to the people, he is the God of War. When the Myers march, the Empire is safe."
Stars looked at his father with renewed calculation. Duke. Patriarch. War Hero. Apex Predator.
"We are nearly there," Darran spoke, his voice a low rumble.
Stars turned back to the window. The carriage crested a hill, and the view opened up.
He gasped.
In the distance, rising from a sheer cliff of black granite, stood the Myers Castle. It was not merely a building; it was a statement of dominance.
It was built of dark, obsidian-like stone that seemed to swallow the light. Towers pierced the clouds like spears. Massive walls, thick enough to run a chariot race atop, circled the base. Banners of blue and silver snapped in the wind from a hundred spires. It looked less like a home and more like a fortress designed to challenge the gods.
It radiated power. Not the magical heat of Uncle Chris, but the heavy, crushing gravity of Darran. It was a structure built to endure the end of the world.
"That," Ariel whispered, leaning close to his ear, "is your inheritance."
The carriage thundered toward the massive drawbridge, the Frost-Manes snorting as they smelled home. Stars watched the castle grow larger, swallowing the sky.
He felt small. For the first time in his life, the sheer scale of his legacy terrified him. But beneath the fear, a new sensation ignited in his chest. A hunger.
He didn't just want to live in that castle. He wanted to understand every stone, every secret, and every ounce of power it held.
The carriage rolled onto the drawbridge. The celebration awaited. The Eight Families would be there.
The Royals would be watching.
The Boy Called Stars fixed his collar, erased the awe from his face, and prepared to play the part of the Pillar.