Julius stood frozen beneath the boundless expanse of the Starlit Chamber. His face was drained of color, his breath caught in his throat. His gaze remained fixed on the child before him, eyes brimming with disbelief.
*"Is it because I touched him? Is that why he's here? Could this be one of the chamber's abilities?"* he wondered, astonished by the sheer divinity of the place.
As Julius wrestled with his thoughts, the child trembled, his body locked in place by an overwhelming sense of dread. He could not find the words to speak.
Before him stood a towering throne, impossibly vast and majestic. Shattered swords lay embedded in its foundation, whispering of ancient battles lost to time. The ceiling above was no mere structure—it was an expanse of cosmic night, a celestial abyss dotted with countless stars. The walls pulsed with arcane engravings, their glow both mesmerizing and cryptic. Behind the throne, colossal statues loomed, their stony features carved with such precision that they seemed on the verge of waking.
The child felt the suffocating grip of death in the air. His heart pounded wildly as he staggered backward. In his terror, he called out to the one being he had placed his faith in.
*"My lord… King of Shadows… save me! I don't know where I am!"*
His voice was barely more than a plea, yet it trembled with raw desperation. He was too afraid to even shed tears.
Julius, hearing the boy's frantic cry, understood his fear. *"When I first arrived here, I couldn't stop shaking… and he is just a child. I need to calm him down first."*
With that thought, Julius straightened his posture, his voice taking on a steady, commanding tone.
"Do not fear. You stand before me. I am the King of Shadows—Sharon."
He had no choice but to play the part. If the child succumbed to his terror, he might very well die on the spot. The idea was absurd, yet entirely possible. After all, he was just a boy.
Slowly, the child's expression shifted. His fear did not vanish, but it was now laced with reverence. His eyes traced the origin of the voice—to the throne that loomed high above him. But no matter how he strained, he could not see the figure seated upon it. The throne's height was too overwhelming. All he could glimpse was the faint silhouette of a being exuding an undeniable majesty.
Unconsciously, he stared too long, captivated by the aura that radiated from the throne. A shiver ran down his spine as a sudden realization struck him.
With careful, deliberate movement, he averted his gaze and lowered his head.
*"Forgive me, my lord, for my insolence. I am unworthy to gaze upon your face. I have committed a grave sin."*
The prophecies had always warned against looking directly at a king. To do so was an unforgivable offense.
*"How could I forget what my grandfather told me? Damn my foolishness!"*
Julius, however, was caught off guard. *Prophecies?*
His eyes narrowed slightly as he addressed the boy. "What prophecies do you speak of?"
The child gasped, his breath hitching in his throat.
*"You… you can hear my thoughts?"*
In that instant, he understood. The power of the King of Shadows was real. His grandfather had spoken the truth.
*"They truly were gods."*
Julius, meanwhile, was reeling.
*"Hearing his thoughts? No… was he merely speaking in his mind, and I… I heard it?"*
His gaze flickered down to his palm—the sigil that had burned itself into his skin when he touched the book. A dark, unblinking eye, pulsating with the aura of something unfathomable.
*"Did I… inherit the powers of the King of Shadows?"*
There were far too many mysteries to untangle, but for now, he had to focus on the child before him.
With calculated coldness, he spoke, his voice carrying an undeniable weight.
"You believe you can hide your thoughts from me? Who do you take me for?"
The boy stiffened, his body locking in place. Then, hurriedly, he bowed his head even lower.
"I would never dare, my lord. I was simply careless… I failed to recognize my place."
Julius exhaled slowly. There was no doubt now—he had truly gained the ability to hear thoughts. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.
Then, the boy hesitantly continued.
"The prophecies… they say that when the kings gather under one sky, the stars themselves shall devour the darkness that shrouds the world."
Julius's eyes darkened.
*"The kings… together… under one sky… the darkness?"*
A prophecy tied to this chamber? Was this place meant to play a role in the downfall of the Dark King?
There was too much he didn't know. But there was something he could address now.
With an icy edge to his tone, he asked, "You pleaded for my help to rescue your father from prison. What happened?"
The boy's lips trembled before curling into a faint, relieved smile.
"Thank you, my lord, for remembering my plight."
But the joy was fleeting. His expression soon darkened.
"My lord… may I tell you my story? I only ask for a moment of your time."
Julius knew that the only way to rid himself of this issue was to hear it through.
"Make it brief."
The boy nodded obediently.
"My name is Caleb Withers. My family has served an aristocratic household for generations. My mother serves Lady Emma Lowenharit. My father and I… we tend to the garden. It is our duty to care for the trees."
His voice grew distant, as though he were being pulled back into the past.
"One month ago, I was assisting my father in pruning the estate's trees when a man approached. His attire marked him as a servant, yet I had never seen him before. He whispered something to my father, whose face turned grim. Without a word, my father followed the man toward the mansion. That was strange in itself… the gardeners are never summoned inside."
Julius narrowed his eyes. "Why is that?"
Caleb hesitated before answering, "Because our hands are covered in dirt, our clothes stained with sweat. We are forbidden from sullying the pristine halls of nobility. If we must enter, we are required to bathe and dress in fine attire beforehand."
Julius felt a twinge of disgust at the aristocracy's hypocrisy.
Caleb continued, his voice hollow.
"Soon after, a scream shattered the estate's peace. It came from Lady Marla Thorn's balcony. Everyone rushed to her chambers. When I arrived, I saw the other servants gathered at her door. I… I tried to see past them."
His voice wavered, thick with emotion.
"What I saw… I will never forget."
His hands clenched into trembling fists.
"Lady Marla was on the floor, weeping into her handkerchief. Before her, painted in candlelight, was a horrific scene—a man pinned to the wall, symbols of blood and arcane sigils surrounding him. His body was barely clinging to life. That man… was her fiancé."
Julius's body stiffened. The description… it was familiar. Too familiar.
The first thing he had seen upon awakening in this world… was a corpse surrounded by ritualistic symbols.
Was Caleb's father involved in something similar? No… something didn't add up. The pieces of the puzzle refused to fit.
Caleb's voice broke, tears streaming down his face.
"My lord… please save my father. He is innocent. He does not even know how to read or write—how could he possibly know magic?"
Julius's mind whirred. The key to this mystery… was the man who had led Caleb's father to that room.
Then, Caleb whispered, "The authorities… they've already sentenced him to death. There was no trial. The victim's family is powerful… no one dares to stand against them. That's why I had no other choice but to beg you, my lord."
He fell to his knees.
"If you save him… I will offer you my very soul."
Julius exhaled sharply.
*"So even in this world, power dictates justice."*
He glanced up at the endless expanse of stars.
*"How… am I supposed to face the Dark King when I can't even help myself?"*
**The Starlit Throne**
Julius lifted his gaze toward the celestial dome above. A boundless expanse of stars shimmered, their brilliance casting an ethereal glow across the hall. It was a sight beyond words, a vast ocean of light stretching into infinity. And yet, despite its beauty, his mind remained burdened.
What answer could he give the child before him?
The weight of his own struggles pressed heavily upon him. The Dark Sovereign loomed on the horizon, the organization's relentless pursuit showed no signs of waning. He had neither the time nor the strength to extend aid to another.
And yet… the boy's words had stirred something deep within him.
Julius exhaled slowly, his voice calm yet resolute. *"Caleb, you must seek out the man who took your father from the garden. That is where the truth lies. If you manage to uncover it, pray and speak my name. Then, we shall talk again. Now, go."*
Tears welled in Caleb's eyes, his breath catching in his throat. *He… he remembered my name.*
A thought bloomed in his mind, trembling with awe. *I do not deserve this. Grandfather was right… The Sovereigns truly were the saviors of the world.*
Julius heard the boy's thoughts as clearly as if they had been spoken aloud. He was momentarily taken aback by the depth of Caleb's faith in him.
But then, Caleb straightened, his small frame trembling as he bowed deeply. *"Thank you, my lord, for listening to my story. And… thank you for agreeing to help me."*
Julius gave a slight nod, prepared to dismiss the child—
Until Caleb hesitated, then asked, *"My lord… how do I leave this place? How do I return home?"*
A crack formed in Julius's composure. A realization struck him like a thunderbolt—he didn't know.
He had brought the child here by accident, not by understanding.
For a fleeting moment, his expression faltered. But Caleb, standing before the towering throne, did not notice. The boy dared not look too closely—the old prophecy warned that locking eyes with a Sovereign would steal one's sight.
Julius's thoughts churned. If the stone was the medium through which Caleb had called him… then what would happen if it was removed? A theory began to form.
*"Caleb,"* Julius spoke at last, his tone measured. *"Are you still holding the stone?"*
*"Yes, my lord."*
Julius's fingers curled slightly on the armrest. *"Drop it."*
Caleb hesitated. He did not understand the Sovereign's command, but refusing was not an option. Slowly, his fingers uncurled.
The stone slipped from his grasp.
In an instant, a radiant blue light flared from the nearest star, pulling Caleb into its embrace. His form flickered, growing more distant, until the glow faded, and the star returned to its quiet vigil.
Julius let out a slow breath. His theory had been correct. The boy had returned.
But as silence settled over the starlit hall, an unshakable weight pressed against him.
The throne beneath him felt heavier than before.
How would he face the Dark Sovereign? The organization that hunted him? And now… this child who had placed his faith in him?
Even amidst the endless stars, his mind burned with questions, and his heart found no peace.