Chapter 1 – The Coronation Night
The moon hung heavy over the Celestial Kingdom, silver light spilling like liquid silk across the marble towers. Tonight, the heavens themselves seemed restless—clouds shifting as though the gods whispered among themselves, deciding the fate of mortals below.
Within the Grand Hall of Asterion Palace, thousands gathered beneath jeweled chandeliers. Courtiers in golden robes whispered praises, nobles bowed low, and the air thrummed with anticipation.
At the heart of it all stood Prince Aelion, draped in white and blue silks, a crown of starlight waiting on the velvet cushion before him. His beauty was not the soft kind sung of in ballads—it was sharper, like the glint of a blade, his amber eyes burning with pride but shadowed with the loneliness of a boy who had been born a prince rather than a man.
Beside him, always a step behind yet ever present, stood Kaelen. The bodyguard’s black armor gleamed under torchlight, but it was his steady gaze that drew more weight than steel. Where others saw only duty, Kaelen’s heart carried a truth no one could know—that his loyalty to Aelion was more than sworn oaths and sharpened swords. It was love, silent and forbidden.
The high priest raised his staff, its crystal tip glowing with divine light. The hall hushed to silence.
“On this night, the Heavens decree. As Prince Aelion takes his crown, the words of prophecy must be spoken anew.”
A cold breeze swept through the hall though no doors had opened. Kaelen’s hand moved instinctively to the hilt of his sword, his eyes scanning for threats, but none came—only the voice of fate.
The priest’s words fell like iron chains:
“When the kingdom bleeds, two souls shall stand as one.
The Crowned Star, and the Shadow at his side.
But hear, O children of heaven—only one shall shine,
For when the final dawn arrives, one life must be given for the realm to survive.”
A murmur rippled through the court. Some bowed their heads in reverence, others whispered in fear. But Aelion’s expression remained calm, almost defiant, though his hands curled tight at his side.
Kaelen’s chest tightened. Only one shall shine. He had known duty might one day demand his life—but never had he realized that fate itself might demand Aelion’s.
The crown was lifted, lowered onto Aelion’s brow. Applause thundered, drowning out the priest’s lingering words, but Kaelen heard nothing except the frantic beat of his own heart.
And when Aelion turned, meeting his gaze for the briefest, forbidden moment, Kaelen knew:
The prophecy had already begun.
