Chapter: Ash Before the Flame
The capital did not sleep.
Helioscrest breathed even at night—mana flowing through solar crystals embedded in towers and bridges, floating platforms humming softly as they drifted along prescribed paths, phoenix sigils glowing faintly atop watchtowers where elite soldiers stood guard. From above, the city looked divine. From within, it felt like a beautifully sharpened blade.
And Daniel stood at its edge.
Not physically—he was housed in a modest, newly arranged residence for temporary purpose before he and his mother have their own place as promised by the King—but socially, politically, existentially. He existed between worlds: too noble to be ignored, too illegitimate to be accepted.
Inside the palace, three currents of intent moved silently.
---
The Queen's Factions
Queen Althea's wing was first to react.
Within her private solar chamber, walls etched with ancient contracts and lineage runes, the First Queen listened as her attendants and trusted mages reported.
"He has the hair," one whispered. "Crimson. Undeniable."
"But not the upbringing," another added coldly. "No academy training. No lineage backing. A child raised among servants."
Queen Althea's fingers rested lightly on the arm of her throne, rings catching the light.
"Hair alone does not make a prince," she said calmly. "Test him."
---
Queen Isolde's faction moved next.
Their concern was quieter, sharper. They feared displacement, not scandal. Daniel's existence threatened balance—titles, inheritance lines, influence carefully woven over decades.
"If he is weak," Isolde murmured to her inner circle, "we crush him with decorum. If he is strong…"
She did not finish the sentence.
---
Even the remnants of Queen Rhea's former faction—now fragmented, bitter—watched from the shadows. To them, Leslie was an insult. Love-born. Chosen. Everything their political sacrifices were not.
Three factions.
One boy.
---
Daniel knew.
He felt it in the way conversations stopped when he entered a corridor. In the way palace guards watched him too closely. In the way servants bowed a little too deeply—or not at all.
Sensei's voice remained steady in his mind.
Sensei: "All three factions are gathering data. Provocation probability increasing. Recommended action: zero response."
Daniel: "So I become a wall."
Sensei: "No. You become empty space. Walls invite pressure. Empty space is ignored."
Daniel exhaled slowly, fingers tightening once before relaxing.
Daniel: "Then we stay under the radar."
Sensei: "Correct. Any display of power now accelerates convergence."
Daniel nodded internally.
He would endure.
---
The Bully
The mage's name was Aeron Valquist.
Fire and air affinity. Academy-trained. Arrogant. And loyal to Queen Althea's faction.
He cornered Daniel in one of the palace's open training galleries the following afternoon, where nobles' children often practiced under supervision. The space was wide, sunlit, ringed with observation balconies.
Daniel was doing his daily physical training by himself when Aeron decide to take action
Perfect.
Aeron smiled as Daniel passed.
Aeron: "You walk like you belong here."
Daniel stopped.
Daniel: "I was told this path was public."
Aeron laughed softly.
Aeron: "Paths can be public. Destinations aren't."
Several young nobles slowed, sensing entertainment.
Aeron stepped closer.
Aeron: "Tell me—what does a housemaid's son do in a place meant for heirs?"
Daniel said nothing.
Sensei: "Do not engage."
Aeron's smile sharpened.
Aeron: "Ah. Silent type. Makes sense. You've got the King's hair, I'll give you that." His eyes flicked deliberately to Daniel's crimson strands. "But magic? Blood? Talent?"
He leaned in, voice dropping.
Aeron: "That comes from the mother. And yours was… what was it?"
Daniel's jaw tightened.
Aeron straightened and raised his voice.
Aeron: "Mud flesh."
The word echoed.
That was when Leslie arrived.
She had been searching for Daniel, worry pulling her through the palace corridors faster than decorum allowed. She saw the circle, the posture, the smiles.
She stepped forward.
Leslie: "Enough."
Aeron turned, surprised, then amused.
Aeron: "Ah. The source."
Leslie's hands trembled, but her voice did not.
Leslie: "You have no right to speak to my son that way."
Aeron chuckled.
Aeron: "Son? That's generous. You should be grateful he even breathes palace air."
Leslie's eyes burned.
Leslie: "He is more than you will ever be."
Aeron's expression hardened.
Aeron: "Careful, woman. You stand here because the King allows it. Not because you belong."
He leaned closer.
Aeron: "And your son? He has no elemental inheritance. No royal core. Just whore blood dressed in red hair."
Silence fell like a blade.
Daniel felt something crack.
Sensei: "Daniel. Do not—"
Daniel raised a hand slightly.
Daniel: "Sensei. I won't." but suggest me how to best that bastard beyond Healing
Sensei: you just Ask for formal duel it's a disgrace to not accepting one and when duel comes do not use any magic just pure physical strength..
Daniel: Easy Sensei
He stepped forward calmly, placing himself between Leslie and Aeron.
Daniel: "You want to test me?"
Aeron blinked.
Daniel: "Then do it properly."
---
The Challenge
Daniel's voice carried—not loud, but clear.
Daniel: "I challenge you to a formal duel."
Aeron laughed outright.
Aeron: "You?"
Daniel: "Arena rules. Tomorrow. Witnessed."
The surrounding nobles gasped.
Formal duels were binding. Refusal meant disgrace.
Aeron's eyes gleamed.
Aeron: "Very well. I'll even let you choose how you lose."
Daniel: "I'll fight with only my body. I learned No magic yet like you said "
That drew a murmur.
Sensei: "Smart."
Aeron's grin widened cruelly.
Aeron: "Then I'll cripple you with fire and air."
He turned to a nearby attendant.
Aeron: "Inform Her Majesty. Tell her I accept."
Leslie grabbed Daniel's arm as the crowd dispersed.
Leslie: "Daniel, no—"
Daniel squeezed her hand gently.
Daniel: "Mother. Trust me."
She searched his face, saw no fear—only resolve.
---
A Letter Across Distance
That night, Daniel sat by a window overlooking Helioscrest's glowing skyline. Floating platforms drifted like stars caught mid-fall. Solar crystals pulsed softly.
He wrote carefully.
> Aurelia,
The capital is beautiful in a way that feels unreal—like a dream someone else is having. Towers float. Light obeys commands. Soldiers watch everything.
Yet somehow, I miss Silverlake more. I miss quiet. I miss you.
Tomorrow, I'll be in the arena. Nothing dangerous. Just palace politics wearing armor.
I promise I'm safe.
Daniel.
He sealed the letter.
Sensei: "Emotional state stabilized."
Daniel: "I wish she were here."
Sensei: "She will be. Probability: high."
---
The Arena
The next day, Helioscrest's arena roared.
Tiered stands filled with nobles, students, mages, and soldiers. Solar shields shimmered above the dueling ground. Royal observers watched from shaded balconies.
Queen Althea sat composed.
Queen Isolde observed quietly.
Leslie sat rigid, hands clasped.
Daniel stepped onto the sand.
No armor. No weapon.
Just crimson hair and calm eyes.
Across from him, Aeron Valquist ignited flames around his hands, wind spiraling at his feet.
The crowd buzzed.
Mage Announcer: "Duel under royal law. Combat until submission or incapacitation."
Aeron smirked.
Aeron: "Try not to die."
Daniel met his gaze.
Daniel: "Try not to embarrass yourself."
The horn sounded.
The arena held its breath.
And somewhere deep within Daniel—
not magic,
not rage,
but something far more dangerous—
control
settled into place.
The first step forward was silent.
The second was inevitable.
And the world watched.