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Chapter 1: The Burden of the Valtheris Bloodline - Arc I

  The silence within the Royal Palace of Therion Vales was not one of peace.

  It was the kind of silence that comes before something too great to be ignored.

  High atop the tallest towers—where Animic energy flowed with rare purity—violet and golden lights pulsed against the night sky. Not like fireworks of celebration, but like an omen written across the heavens.

  At the heart of the palace, Queen Elara Valtheris struggled to bring her child into the world.

  Each contraction sent a ripple through the corridors. It was not merely physical pain. The Animic Current itself stirred, vibrating as though responding to the birth.

  King Thalric held her hand firmly.

  “I’m here.”

  The healers worked in tense silence. Their quiet was not reassuring—it was strained.

  “The Current is unstable…” one of them whispered.

  “It’s not instability,” another muttered. “It’s reacting.”

  Elara gasped, tightening her grip on her husband.

  “Thalric… what is happening?”

  He leaned closer, keeping his voice steady.

  “Whatever it is… we face it together.”

  Then the cry came.

  Small. Fragile.

  And the world answered.

  A burst of violet and gold light erupted from the cradle. The air warped. Space itself seemed to fold subtly, as if brushed by something it did not fully understand.

  The healers stumbled back.

  “This… this isn’t normal…”

  Thalric instinctively stepped in front of Elara.

  “Orizon!”

  The archmage was already entering as the energy began to settle.

  He approached the cradle slowly, ancient eyes studying what lingered in the air.

  Then he smiled—not in joy, but in recognition.

  “Your Majesty… your son has been born with a Superior Animic core.”

  Thalric felt the weight of those words.

  “Superior…?”

  “Space.”

  The word carried echoes of forgotten eras.

  “He will bend what keeps the world fixed,” Orizon continued quietly. “A core like this has not appeared in generations.”

  The newborn opened his eyes.

  Gold.

  Not merely bright.

  Deep.

  Thalric felt two things at once.

  Overwhelming pride.

  And cold fear.

  “What has fate reserved for you…?” he murmured.

  Outside the chamber, three figures waited.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Lyra, the firstborn, stood tall, though anticipation shone openly in his eyes. His own golden aura was stable, disciplined, controlled.

  Beside him, Kael shifted restlessly. Small arcs of lightning snapped between his fingers without him noticing.

  Elian slept peacefully in Lady Selene’s arms, unaware of the turning tide of fate.

  The flash bled through the closed doors.

  Lyra stepped forward.

  “What was that?”

  Kael swallowed.

  “It was… massive.”

  The doors opened. Orizon emerged.

  “Your brother has been born.”

  Lyra smiled immediately.

  “Can I see him?”

  “You may. But be prepared.”

  Lyra entered first.

  When he saw the infant, his expression softened.

  “He’s incredible…”

  Kael approached after him.

  But he did not look at the baby’s face.

  He looked at what still vibrated faintly in the air around the cradle.

  “Superior…” he murmured.

  Lyra turned.

  “What?”

  “He was born ready.”

  Lyra grinned, innocent.

  “Then we’ll grow stronger together.”

  Kael glanced down at his own hands.

  Small sparks.

  Advanced.

  Always Advanced.

  You were born at the summit.

  I have to climb.

  Lyra touched his shoulder.

  “Are you alright?”

  Kael forced a smile.

  “Of course.”

  But he left before Lyra could press further.

  Lady Selene watched in silence.

  “Not all light is born the same way,” she murmured.

  Elian shifted beneath the blanket, dreaming.

  Days later, Therion Vales was alive with celebration.

  Golden and violet banners lined the streets. The people gathered in great numbers. Musicians played. Children laughed.

  For a brief moment, the kingdom felt whole.

  The royal family stepped onto the grand balcony.

  Thalric held Zeryon in his arms. Elara smiled—but her eyes held something the crowd could not see.

  Lyra waved.

  Kael stood a few steps behind.

  Watching.

  “Look! The new prince!”

  “May the Current protect him!”

  “They say he was born different!”

  Lorde Valerion and Lady Selene stood among the crowd.

  “He carries more than he shows,” Selene murmured.

  Thalric raised his son.

  The crowd erupted.

  Kael did not clap.

  Another one.

  Another above me.

  On a side balcony, Orizon and Kaelen observed.

  “A Superior Space Animic core…” Kaelen said quietly.

  “Power is not a blessing by itself,” Orizon replied.

  “He will be capable of extraordinary things.”

  “Or irreversible ones.”

  Kaelen fell silent.

  “Cores like his draw attention,” Orizon continued. “Envy. War.”

  He did not look away from the child.

  “And sometimes… they awaken what should remain asleep.”

  Deep beneath the castle, something pulsed.

  The Primordial Core of Black Flames.

  The golden chains forged centuries ago trembled under unseen pressure.

  A thin crack spread across the ancient stone.

  A presence stirred.

  “…light…”

  The stone fractured again.

  “…so… suitable…”

  Silence.

  Then a whisper almost too faint to exist:

  “…interesting…”

  The council chamber did not share in the joy outside.

  Thalric sat upon the throne. Elara already sensed that celebration had been brief.

  Captain Valerius stood rigid as steel.

  Lyra and Kael were present.

  “Orizon,” the king said. “Speak.”

  The archmage inhaled slowly.

  “The seal of the Demon of Black Flames is failing.”

  Elara paled.

  “Failing?”

  “Nothing created is eternal.”

  Kaelen added:

  “He presses against it daily. It weakens.”

  Valerius’ voice was steady.

  “How long?”

  Orizon hesitated.

  “Not long.”

  Silence tightened around them.

  “Can we reinforce it?” Thalric asked.

  “Not with modern methods,” Orizon replied. “Attempting to force it may accelerate the rupture.”

  Far below, the crack widened.

  “Then what do we do?” Elara’s voice trembled.

  Kaelen stepped forward.

  “We create a new seal.”

  “Where?” Valerius asked.

  Kaelen did not look away.

  “In a soul.”

  The air seemed to vanish from the room.

  “Inside someone?” Thalric whispered.

  “A Superior Animic core could withstand the Primordial essence. An Advanced one would shatter.”

  Kael stepped forward.

  “I can do it.”

  All eyes turned to him.

  “My core is strong. I can control—”

  “You cannot,” Kaelen cut in.

  Silence fell instantly.

  “Your soul would not survive.”

  Kael clenched his fists.

  Orizon continued.

  “In this kingdom… only two possess Superior cores.”

  All eyes shifted to Lyra.

  He stepped back.

  “I… I don’t know if—”

  And then, toward the cradle.

  Elara stood abruptly.

  “No.”

  The word echoed.

  “He is a baby.”

  Thalric closed his eyes.

  “Is there another way?”

  Orizon shook his head.

  Elara sank to her knees.

  “Thalric…”

  Lyra’s face was pale.

  “Father… I’m afraid.”

  Thalric looked at his eldest son.

  And understood.

  Then he looked forward, as though seeing beyond the chamber—beyond himself—to the countless citizens of Therion Vales.

  He opened his eyes.

  There were tears in them.

  But also resolve.

  “Prepare the ritual.”

  Elara made a sound that was not quite a scream.

  It was something breaking.

  “Prince Zeryon Valtheris… will become the new seal.”

  Far below, something vibrated.

  “…ah…”

  Later, in the royal chambers, Elara stared at the empty cradle.

  “You condemned our son.”

  “I protected our people.”

  She turned toward him, eyes red.

  “Who will protect him?”

  Thalric did not answer immediately.

  “I will do everything in my power.”

  “It won’t be enough.”

  The silence between them was heavier than stone.

  Outside, violet and golden lights still shimmered faintly in the sky.

  But they no longer felt like celebration.

  They felt like vigilance.

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