The Council of Thirteen ministers froze.
Thirteen hearts stopped.
Even the guards —
men who had seen war and death —
took a step back.
No one knew how he got there.
No door had opened.
No sound was made.
But he was there.
Standing behind the throne.
The air around him shook.
Like heat from fire —
but cold instead of warm.
All thirteen moved at once.
Chairs scraped.
Hands went to swords.
Books closed.
Whispers broke into gasps.
Some tried to stand.
Some could not move at all.
Fear spread through them like smoke.
The sound of armor rattled.
The smell of ash grew strong again.
Every eye turned to the man —
and every soul wished they had not.
He did nothing.
He only stood there.
Silent. Still. Endless.
A few seconds later, they came to their senses.
The guards moved first — blades drawn, boots striking the stone.
Kaida Renvar, Minister of the Royal Guard,
stepped forward with her right hand on her sword.
In a breath, she and the guards charged toward the man.
But the man did not move.
He did not flinch.
He stood as if nothing in the world could touch him.
Kaida's sword was almost at his neck —
a single inch away —
When a voice broke through the hall.
> "Stop."
Akajaya's voice.
Cold. Sharp. Commanding.
Every guard froze in place.
Kaida stopped mid-swing.
Time itself seemed to hold its breath.
Slowly…
one by one…
they lowered their weapons
and returned to where they stood before —
as if nothing had happened.
Akajaya slowly came to his senses.
A heavy realization struck him —
he had almost ruined his greatest plan.
He rose from his throne.
His voice carried through the hall — calm, strong, commanding.
> "The council meeting about the fate of our country will be held tomorrow morning, the moment the sun rises."
Every council member nodded at once.
No one dared speak.
Akajaya's eyes swept across the room.
Then he said,
> "You all must be curious about the man behind me."
He paused.
The silence deepened.
> "He is my senior… Velkir Saelvor."
At that word — senior —
a cold wave passed through the room.
Every minister felt a chill crawl down their spine.
All except Kaida Renvar,
Minister of the Royal Guard.
She did not feel cold.
She felt death.
Sweat rolled down her face.
Her breath quickened.
Her body trembled —
and before she even understood why,
she fell to her knees.
Her voice broke, desperate and shaking.
> "My king… and his senior… please… spare this lowly life…"
In her mind, Kaida screamed, Why am I moving? Why am I begging?
Then she realized —
this was her body's last defense,
her instinct to survive.
The hall went silent again.
Not even a breath could be heard.
Then Akajaya spoke.
> "Stand up, Kaida. My senior does not mind."
She rose slowly, still shaking.
Akajaya vanished from his throne.
In an instant, he stood behind his senior —
his right hand resting on the man's left shoulder.
A small, mocking smile touched his lips.
> "Right, senior? You don't mind… do you?"
The mysterious man said nothing.
Kaida returned to her place.
The tension in the air remained heavy as iron.
Akajaya turned to the council once more.
> "Now, back to business.
Do not forget — tomorrow, before sunrise,
the council meeting will begin.
The moment the sun rises… be here."
He looked over them one last time.
> "You are dismissed."
The thirteen ministers bowed their heads.
> "We wish the king good health,"
they said together, voices low and uneasy.
One by one, they turned and left the throne room —
slowly, carefully, as if afraid to make a sound.
Akajaya's voice cut through the silence again.
> "Someone call the Head Butler."
Two guards rushed away at once.
Moments later, the old butler arrived in a hurry,
bowing deeply before the throne.
Before the butler could speak, Akajaya said,
> "This man is my senior.
Lead him to the guest castle and see that he is cared for."
Then Akajaya turned to the silent figure.
> "Please, follow him," he said quietly.
The man obeyed without a word,
and the echo of their footsteps faded into the long hall.
Akajaya looked toward the remaining guards.
> "Where is my mother?" he asked.
One of them straightened, his armor trembling slightly.
> "Her Grace, the Grand Queen, is in her chambers, Your Majesty."
Akajaya said nothing more.
He began walking toward the royal residence.
Each step echoed through the empty halls —
a heavy rhythm that carried both command and burden.
He walked like a storm trapped in flesh —
calm on the outside,
but inside, the weight of the world pressed harder with every breath.
At last, he reached her door.
He stopped for a moment.
His right hand rested on the handle.
Slowly, he opened it.
Akajaya entered the room.
Step by step, he moved, eyes scanning every corner.
At last, he saw her.
His mother sat by the window, staring at the red moon.
But tonight the moon was strange —
its red hue bordered by a thin white ring.
She sobbed, quietly at first, then louder, unstoppable.
> "Mother," he said softly.
She froze.
Her sobs stopped.
Her eyes turned to him.
> "You're home… finally," she whispered.
"But… why? Why would you do that?
He was your father. Why did you kill him?
I know he was not a good man… not a good king…
But he was a good father. He loved you the most.
Why did you kill him?"
Tears ran down her face.
Without thinking, she continued:
> "Then… kill me too.
Your brother and sister… kill them all.
What have you become?
What… have you become?"
Akajaya stepped closer.
His voice was quiet, but firm:
> "Mother… I cannot tell you that right now.
Someday, you may understand."
He knelt slightly, his eyes on hers.
> "I came here to tell you something.
Tomorrow… I will do something… crazy.
I want you to watch over me.
And give m
e your blessing."
She looked at him, trembling.
> "Crazy? What do you mean?
Something… crazier than today?"
Akajaya did not answer.
Only a flicker of a smile.
He turned and left the room.
The door was closing behind him.
> "Everything," he whispered happily,
"is His Will."