As the scarlet oaks and gargantuan whistle pines stood sentinel in the lush evergreen park, Regulus and Polaris strolled along the winding pathways, flanked by a troop of guardsmen.
The palace's Citadel of Glass, a towering monolith, pierced the auroral hemisphere of the Southern Lights, its crystalline spires glinting like shards of splintered moonlight.
Before they reached the palace, a bold silhouette intercepted their path.
"You shall relinquish your custody of these innocents!" his voice, soothingly hoarse, sent shivers coursing through the spines of the guardsmen.
The startled kids gasped subtly, their steamy breaths evaporating in the blistering winter breeze, as the mystery man's words hung in the air like a challenge.
"By whose authority do you issue such commands?" the guardsmen murmured amongst themselves in defiance, unsheathing their blades with a soft, metallic whisper.
"Who do you think you are? Step aside, lest you suffer the consequences of your impertinence!"
The mystery man stood nearly six feet tall, his countenance shrouded by a dark hooded cape, its hem fluttering in the frosty wind like a dark specter.
His polished boots glossed in the dimly lit twilight, as he glowered sternly at the company of guardians, his gaze, piercing the shadows like a cold, unforgiving blade.
His chillingly frightening glare stunned the men, ridding them of consciousness, in a manner quite too paranormal.
His pulsing gaze; a glowering sapphire blue akin to gemstones, was ringed with an inner flare, resembling the nightmarish biohazard symbol.
"I said... you shall let them go," his gentle voice reaffirmed, the words dripping with an otherworldly authority, as though the fabric of reality was bending to his will.
"Yes, we shall... let the little royals go," the troop of guardsmen sheathed their blades, ensnared in a sudden hypnosis, their eyes glazing over like frozen lakes.
Only the chief guardsman was left in control of his own mind, his eyes wide with fear, as he stumbled backwards, his blade trembling in his hand.
"Telepathy? It can't be!" he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Only one warlock but the Duke of Aethoria possesses a gift of such power.
You are Rigel, son of Corvus, the fiercest Quantum Kinetic in all the Eastern Terrains?"
Startled to anxiety, the chief guardsman was peeing his pants, his fear palpable, as though the presence of the Aethorian was suffocating him.
For he had received specific orders during the Civil War, two winters ago, to retreat at the sight of the telepathic nightmare.
"How?" he grunted in frustration, his voice cracking like a broken twig.
"You shall resume your watch in the catacombs.
None of this ever happened," Rigel's low hypnotic voice reverberated through the cerebral vortex of the guardian, the words echoing in his mind like a curse.
"I... shall, I shall resume my duty..." the chief guardsman retreated, along with his armed crew, each waltzing freakishly, relieved of consciousness, like a pack of zombies, their footsteps echoing through the park like a death knell.
"What did you do to them?" Polaris gasped in dismay, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she feared awakening the darkness that lurked within Rigel.
"Telepathy, they'd snap out of it... a couple hours from now," Rigel said, unhooding.
His wavy dark locks fluttered in the winds, glossing jet black, akin to the night sky.
His eyes dimmed, the flaring biohazard sigil faded into a crystalline blue ember, as he smiled, graciously, his lips curling upwards like a crescent moon.
He was undeniably charismatic and popular, infamous in the realm of traitors.
Uniquely slender and flawlessly sculpted, young Rigel possessed an ethereal handsomeness; a stunning Adonis with the charms to enrapture any lass he deemed worthy.
His lustrous skin, akin to vanilla, smooth and unblemished.
Swathed in luxury clothing, neatly pressed and soothingly aromatic, with gloved hands and a scarf of indigo wrapped around his collar, Rigel exuded an aura of refinement and elegance, like a rare gemstone polished to perfection.
The young Prince was barely seventeen years of age, yet he was already a force to be reckoned with in the art of Quantum Kinesis, building a powerful reputation for himself across all nine kingdoms.
The most formidable warlock in the East, Beta to the Crown and heir to the throne of Aethoria.
However, Prince Rigel despised violence and would rather enslave his adversaries in a telepathic prison than engage them in a dance of blood.
His was a subtle power, one that wielded the perception of the mind, bending it to his will with an elegance and precision that was both beautiful and terrifying.
"Brother!" Regulus squealed and scurried towards the Telepath, who caught him with soft, loving hands.
A warm embrace, an affectionate reunion, both siblings chuckled with serene ambiance, lost in sincere joy.
"Brother?" Polaris' tiny voice echoed through the park, as she fiddled with her blonde locks in contemplation, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"Yes, half-brother," Rigel acknowledged, patting Regulus' frizzy wild afro with a gentle smile.
"Thought as much, you both don't exactly have much in common. You're like day and he's like..."
"Night!" Regulus interrupted Polaris' words, with a smile mockingly toothy.
"I'm definitely curious to know how this... happened," the Princess said, fluttering her eyelashes, her voice tinged with a hint of mischief.
"Do you see me poking my nose in Archernar family business?" the kinglet taunted at her, his wide grin degenerating into a smirk.
"You've got so much catching up to do, Lil' Bro," Rigel said, calmly, his eyes glinting with amusement.
"Come along, Mother can't wait to see you."
"Oh, my... Mom? I haven't seen her in ages," Regulus exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"May we all have a great reunion at the Willow Garden? And ooh, ooh, what about Ain? When do I get a varmint of my own?"
"Slow down, cougar," Rigel chuckled, his voice low and soothing.
"You shall have everything you need, soon enough. Come along now, yeah... and bring your girlfriend too."
His last words caused Regulus and Polaris to exchange a bashful glance, their faces flushing with a delicate pink hue, as they shrieked in false disgust.
"Ewww! Yuck! Girlfriend?" the little royals chorused in unison, tongues stuck out, faking to spit.
"Yup, you two are definitely in love," Rigel teased, his eyes glinting with mirth, as he led the way out of the park, the trio's laughter echoing through the trees like a joyful melody.
"We are so not!" the kids denied in pretentious nausea.
"Well, you'd better found a date. We're already on the eve of the Glazier Ball.
Less than twenty four hours to go.
Of course, you don't want a repeat of last year, would you?" Rigel's words caused his kid brother to recall his worst day on Planet Osiris.
Specters of his fragile past resurfaced, a lonely infant, isolated and jeered at.
His date for the "Glacearia" was his pet kitten, furry and untamed.
Gasping back to reality, he turned to the petite blonde beauty with a blissful smirk.
"Don't even think about it," she said, reading his emotions through his facial expression.
As the trio waltzed through the park, their silhouettes slowly faded into the setting star-Sun, Alcyone.
As they strolled, the palace's Citadel of Glass loomed before them, a beacon of wonder and magic in the fading light of day.
The night ahead promised to be filled with secrets and surprises, as the trio navigated the intricate web of royal politics and ancient mysteries that shrouded the realm of Osiris.