The sun cast sharp shadows across the training yard as Gabriel squared off against a training dummy. Master Soltis' seasoned eyes scanned Gabriel’s stance, a perpetual critic looking for the smallest imperfection.

"You're lifting your back foot too much when throwing a punch," Soltis barked, his gravelly voice slicing through the steady rhythm of blows landing on the practice dummy.

Gabriel adjusted his footing, grounding himself more firmly.

Soltis used his stick and struck Gabriel’s heel. “Plant your foot more here, add more weight.”

Gabriel followed the master's instructions until he got a nod from Soltis. "The stance feels unnatural," Gabriel muttered under his breath, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Try now. Focus on leverage," Soltis said.

Nodding, Gabriel threw another punch, this time channeling his strength into the motion. The dull thud of his fist hitting the target reverberated through the yard. It felt... different—stronger, more controlled.

"Better," Soltis said, nodding. "Now again. Until it feels natural."

Determined, Gabriel repeated the movement, each strike more confident than the last. The other students in the yard stole glances at him between their own drills.

As Gabriel continued to refine his punches, the crunch of boots on gravel caught his attention. A castle guard strode into the arena, his polished armor glinting in the sun. The man nodded curtly to Gabriel before saluting Master Soltis.

"Prime Orion," the guard addressed him formally, his tone stiff. "The king requests an audience with you."

Gabriel’s brow arched. "Why?"

The guard straightened even further. "It is not my place to question His Majesty’s messages, only to deliver them," he replied curtly.

Gabriel turned back to Soltis, his hesitation clear. "Apologies, sir."

Soltis waved him off, his rough demeanor softening for just a moment. "Go. But remember what I taught you."

"I will, sir." Gabriel saluted the master, wanting to show his appreciation for the man’s guidance, which had started becoming more frequent these days.

Soltis turned back to the students, who had stopped their drills to eavesdrop, his voice booming across the yard. "Get back to training, you lazy louts! Or do you think the king is going to come here and praise your sloppy footwork?"

The students scrambled to resume their exercises, and Gabriel allowed himself a small smile as he walked toward the exit. Despite the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him, Soltis’s gruff words carried an odd sort of comfort.

Just as Gabriel reached the edge of the yard, Lakan appeared, his face etched with concern. "Is everything all right?"

Gabriel cast a furtive glance toward the castle guard, who was now impatiently tapping his foot. "I don’t know," he admitted.

Lakan lowered his voice, leaning closer. "Is it about what the commander spoke to you about?"

The question stirred unease in Gabriel. He had considered that possibility and thought it was likely. "It might be," he said quietly.

Lakan’s expression tightened. "What is it? You can talk to us. Whatever it is, you won’t face it alone."

Gabriel shook his head. "I have to go."

Gabriel had been quieter in the past few days since the conversation with Commander Galland. His friends had tried to rouse him, ask him questions, show more care, but Gabriel had hidden behind the guise of needing to train more. He looked down at his knuckles that were red and bare. His training had become more of an exercise of masochism, rather than development since the meeting.

Lakan placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice soft but firm. "You don’t have to carry the weight of the world, Orion. Not alone. We’re here for you."

Gabriel turned slightly, offering Lakan a faint, sad smile before stepping away. He knew his friend’s words were sincere, but there were some burdens he couldn’t share—not yet.

As Gabriel followed the guard out of the academy, curious glances followed him. Students whispered among themselves, and once he stepped into the bustling streets outside, the murmurs of citizens replaced them. Children tugged at their parents’ sleeves, asking if that was the Prime they’d heard about. Gabriel paid them no mind, his focus inward. Normally, he would’ve struck up a conversation with the guard, perhaps learned his name. But today, he chose silence.

He counted his steps—an old habit that steadied his racing mind. Step by step, the rhythm calmed him. By the time he reached the castle doors, he’d counted 3,426. Another 143 brought him to the heavy, ornate doors of the king’s office.

The guard accompanying him raised a hand to knock, but before his knuckles could meet the wood, a figure emerged from the shadows of the corridor—the Spider.

"Thank you, guard. I’ll see to him," the Spider said smoothly, his voice laced with quiet authority. The guard hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave, but one glance at the Spider’s cold, unyielding eyes was enough to make him step back and accede.

Gabriel stood frozen for a moment, his pulse quickening. Whatever awaited him on the other side of that door had just taken a darker turn.

The Spider said nothing as he gestured for Gabriel to follow him down a narrow corridor. The walls seemed to close in with each step, their cold stone amplifying the tension that hung in the air. Gabriel’s mind raced, but he maintained a calm exterior. He wouldn’t give the Spider the satisfaction of seeing his unease.

The Spider said nothing as he gestured for Gabriel to follow him down a narrow corridor. The walls seemed to close in with each step, their cold stone amplifying the tension that hung in the air. Gabriel’s mind raced, but his face remained calm, unreadable. He wouldn’t give the Spider the satisfaction of seeing his unease.

The Spider led him into a small, dimly lit room. Glancing over his shoulder, he ensured no one was around before quietly closing the door behind them. The latch clicked with an ominous finality. Gabriel felt the shift in the atmosphere immediately—a simmering hostility that hung like a storm cloud over the room.

The Spider turned sharply, his eyes gleaming with cold menace. “You foolish child,” he hissed, his voice low and venomous. “Everything the king has done for you, and you would throw it all away.”

Gabriel stiffened, but didn’t speak. He met the Spider’s glare head-on, refusing to look away.

The Spider’s lip curled into a sneer as he took a step closer, his movements deliberate, calculated. “Why did you tell the commander?” he demanded, his tone dripping with disdain. “Do you have any idea what you’ve risked? What your loose tongue could undo? The king should never have accepted you. He should’ve cast you out like the waste you are.”

Gabriel’s jaw tightened, his composure steady despite the venom in the Spider’s words. He didn’t flinch, even as the man loomed closer, his presence suffocating.

“Do you think this place is your home? That you belong here?” The Spider’s voice dropped lower, a sharp edge slicing through the air. “You’re a liability—a thread waiting to unravel everything the king has built. I warned him about you. I told him you’d be trouble. But no—he wanted to play the benevolent ruler, taking in the stray dog, pretending that would erase the blood already on his hands.”

The words caught Gabriel off guard. He didn’t let it show, but the hint of something personal in the Spider’s tone planted a seed of curiosity. There was something in the way he said it—a bitterness that seemed to run deeper than his disdain for Gabriel.

“You think you’re special?” the Spider continued, his voice rising slightly. “You think your little tragic story makes you different from the rest of us? You don’t know the sacrifices we’ve made, the blood we’ve spilled to keep this kingdom standing. And here you are, endangering it all because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

Gabriel let the tirade wash over him, his mind churning. The Spider’s anger was revealing cracks in his mask, pieces of something larger slipping through. Gabriel’s lips twitched into a faint smile.

The Spider’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What are you smiling about?”

Gabriel’s voice was calm, almost casual. “You can’t touch me.”

The Spider’s face darkened, and he took another step forward. “Don’t test me, boy. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

Gabriel’s smile widened, his confidence growing. “Oh, I know exactly who I’m dealing with. You’re the king’s weapon, his tool. And tools don’t act on their own. You might frighten others, Spider, but not me. You can’t harm me—not without his command.”

The Spider’s hand twitched, and for a moment, Gabriel thought he might actually strike. But then, as if caught in an invisible chain, the man froze. His fingers curled into a tight fist, trembling with suppressed rage.

“You’re an arrogant little rat,” the Spider spat, his voice trembling with fury. “Do you think the king’s protection will last forever? Do you think your usefulness outweighs the risk you pose? You’re nothing but a pawn, and pawns are sacrificed the moment they become a liability.”

Gabriel tilted his head, his tone sharp. “And yet, here I stand. Funny how a pawn like me seems to have you so rattled. What’s the real problem, Spider? Afraid I might unearth something you don’t want the king to see?”

The tremor in the Spider’s hand grew more pronounced, and Gabriel saw a flicker of hesitation cross the man’s face. It was fleeting, but it was there—a momentary lapse that betrayed a crack in his resolve.

“You’ve made your point,” Gabriel said, stepping forward just enough to close the gap between them. “Now stop this nonsense and let me see the king.”

The Spider’s jaw clenched, his entire body taut with frustration.

“Remember this, tool,” the Spider said, his voice low and dangerous. “There will come a day when nothing will stop me from breaking you. I knew you were scum from the moment I saw you. And mark my words—I will be your end. Whether it’s today, tomorrow, or years from now, I will be your end.”

Gabriel remained unfazed, meeting the man’s glare with calm defiance. “I’ll be sure to mark that on my calendar.”

The Spider’s composure shattered. Without warning, he drove a fist into Gabriel’s sternum, the force of the blow knocking the wind out of him. Gabriel doubled over, gasping for air, but he quickly straightened, his expression defiant as he labored for breaths.

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“Coward,” Gabriel spat, his voice hoarse but filled with venom.

The Spider’s face twisted with rage. He wound his arm back for another strike, but this time Gabriel was ready. He knew he would strike where no marks would be left. It made the man vulnerable. As the punch came toward him, Gabriel brought his forehead forward, slamming it into the Spider’s nose with a sickening crack.

The pain was immediate and searing, radiating through Gabriel’s skull and stomach simultaneously. He stumbled back, his vision momentarily blurred, but he refused to show weakness. Pain was nothing new to him, and the satisfaction of seeing the Spider stagger was worth every ounce of it.

The Spider clutched his bleeding nose, cursing under his breath as crimson stained his fingers. Gabriel, feeling the warm trickle of his own blood from his forehead, raised a hand to touch the wound. His fingers came away red, but he didn’t care. He had drawn blood first.

The Spider turned toward a crimson curtain, tearing off a piece of the fabric to stem the flow from his nose.

“Well,” Gabriel said lightly, brushing past the Spider. “Thanks for the chat. Always a pleasure.”

The Spider didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. There was hatred there, yes, but also something deeper. He filed it away for later, knowing that whatever it was, it was a weakness he could exploit.

As Gabriel stepped out into the corridor, the castle guard waiting outside looked up in alarm, his eyes darting between Gabriel’s bloodied face and the closed door behind him.

“Is all well?” the guard asked, his voice uncertain.

Gabriel smirked faintly, brushing a hand across his forehead. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

At this point, Gabriel knew he had nothing to lose. Whatever awaited him in that room with the king, he would face it head-on. Regrets weren’t something he had time for, and he enjoyed his little interaction with the Spider.

Gabriel approached the king’s office door and rapped it himself, ignoring the surprised look on the guard’s face. The sound echoed down the hallway. Before the guard could react, Gabriel turned the handle and stepped inside, his posture as composed as he could muster.

The sight before him was one of stark contrast. The king sat behind a grand oak desk, his expression freezing in shock as his gaze landed on Gabriel’s bloodied forehead. The streaks of red made for a less-than-respectable presentation, Gabriel thought wryly. The commander, standing beside the king, raised an eyebrow at him, his face calm but clearly curious about whatever antics Gabriel had just been up to.

The king cleared his throat. "We have much to discuss," he said, his words deliberate. But Gabriel could tell the king was waiting for something—or someone—as his gaze flicked toward the door.

The king’s gaze lingered on Gabriel’s disheveled appearance, his voice calm but edged with curiosity. “Anything I should be aware of?”

Gabriel straightened his posture, brushing off his tunic as if to downplay the state he was in. “Nothing relevant to our discussion, Your Majesty.”

The king exhaled, a subtle mix of resignation and patience, before gesturing toward the chair opposite him. “Very well. Sit.”

Gabriel nodded, stepping forward. He saluted both the king and the commander before taking a seat opposite the king.

"I imagine you know why you’re here," the king began.

Gabriel met the king’s gaze, his voice even. "I told the commander parts of my past, and now he has come to you for answers."

"Just so," the king replied, leaning back in his chair. "I must say, you are remarkably calm for someone who, more than anyone else, needs to keep this secret."

"I trust the commander," Gabriel said, a small frown tugging at the corners of his lips. He glanced at Galland, whose expression remained unreadable. "Even if he doesn’t trust me."

The king studied Gabriel for a moment before speaking. "I have already told the commander everything. He knows who you are, Gabriel."

Gabriel’s facade of calm cracked, his throat tightening as the weight of the king’s words sank in. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to remain stoic, though his mind raced. He wasn’t worried about what would happen to him—at least not entirely. What truly gnawed at him was what the commander thought of him now.

The king’s gaze bore into him, but before Gabriel could respond, a knock at the door echoed through the room. Without waiting for permission, the Spider entered.

The man had done a decent job cleaning up, but the swollen bridge of his nose and faint smears of dried blood betrayed their earlier encounter. Gabriel’s lips twitched with the urge to smirk or comment, but he remained silent, holding his tongue with visible effort.

The Spider moved to stand at the edge of the room, his arms crossed. Gabriel turned back to the king and the commander, his voice steady despite the tension. "What now?"

The king turned to Galland, his expression unreadable. "I’ve said my piece," he said. "Gabriel took the risk of speaking his truth to you, and now he will bear the consequences. I will not interfere. But regardless of your decision, the secret must remain within these walls. That much is non-negotiable."

Gabriel felt his chest tighten. This was it—the moment that would decide his fate. His entire future balanced precariously on the commander’s decision. The weight of it pressed down on him, his breath shallow as he forced himself to meet Galland’s gaze. The silence stretched, unbearably heavy, until Gabriel could hear nothing but the pounding of his own heartbeat.

The commander remained silent, his expression unreadable. Gabriel’s hands clenched at his sides, his composure slipping. He wanted nothing more than to tap Galland on the shoulder, to demand the verdict and end the agonizing wait.

A cough broke the silence. Gabriel turned sharply to see the Spider, his smirk gone, his tone clipped. "If I may, Commander," he began, stepping forward, "we have taught the boy, ensured he can defend himself. If we banish him now, no harm will come to him. But if we allow him to stay, he might reveal his secret to the wrong person. He could compromise the honor of the crown." The Spider paused, his eyes narrowing at Gabriel. "He may not even fight for us when the time comes. He is, after all, still an Accamanian. My advice, Commander: part ways with the boy."

The king stiffened, his hand clenching into a fist. Clearly, the Spider’s words weren’t what he had expected. Gabriel kept his gaze on Galland, his expression unchanging, though his chest burned with frustration and dread. This decision wasn’t about the Spider or even the king. It was about the commander. And Gabriel had no idea which way Galland would lean.

Finally, Galland spoke. "I’ve heard of the oaths you made to the king," he said, his voice calm but firm. "But tell me, Gabriel, what is it you truly want? Above all else, what drives you?"

Gabriel nodded slowly, gathering his thoughts. "I’ve told you I want to be strong enough that no one can hurt the people I care about. That much is true. But there’s more." He paused, his voice growing heavier with emotion. "I need to save my sister, Princess Sarah, before her betrothal. I need to save Accamania from a tyrant who was willing to kill a child for the throne. I want peace between our two kingdoms. And I want to protect everyone from the Paresh. These are my motivations. I don’t know if my future lies in Balatia, but I know I must become stronger—strong enough to do what needs to be done."

Galland’s gaze softened, though his expression remained serious. "Does Balatia feel like home to you?" he asked quietly.

Gabriel hesitated before answering. "More than Accamania ever did," he admitted. "But my honor demands action, regardless of where feels right."

Galland nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I understand who I am," Gabriel continued, his voice steady. "What I am. I am a tool, just like the Spider said. But I can be a tool for good, to bridge the gap between our kingdoms. There’s no reason for Balatia and Accamania to fight. I know both kingdoms well enough to see that we’re stronger together than apart. And soon, we may not have a choice."

The room fell silent, Gabriel’s words hanging heavily in the air. All eyes turned to Galland, the weight of his decision palpable. Whatever happened next, Gabriel knew one thing: he had laid everything bare. There was nothing left to hide.

Galland held the king's gaze for a long moment before standing and bowing deeply. “Your Majesty, may I have a private moment with Orion? I will return shortly afterward.”

“You have always been a loyal servant to the kingdom,” the king said, nodding at the commander.

“Thank you, sire.”

Galland turned his path to the door blocked by the Spider. A guttural cough escaped the commander’s lips, and the Spider quickly stepped aside, his demeanor stiff. Galland gave no further acknowledgment and walked toward the door. Pausing at the threshold, he cast a subtle glance over his shoulder, shaking his head ever so slightly to signal Gabriel to follow.

Gabriel rose from his seat, turning to the king. Bowing deeply, he said, “I would have kept the secret if I could, but not when Galland asked. I couldn’t lie to him.”

The king remained silent for a moment, his eyes steady and thoughtful. Finally, he spoke. “I respect you for it, but respect isn’t enough in this world. As I said, your fate is now out of my hands. It rests solely with the commander.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty, for everything.” Gabriel bowed even lower this time, his body dropping further than a square angle. As he straightened, he turned to face the Spider, his lips curling into a sharp, sarcastic smile.

The Spider’s face remained emotionless, but his eyes burned with unspoken fury. Gabriel knew he had pushed enough buttons for one day and turned away, following Galland out of the room.

The commander said nothing as they walked, his strides purposeful yet unhurried. Gabriel fell in step behind him, his gaze flickering occasionally toward Galland’s broad back. The silence between them stretched, but Gabriel didn’t dare break it. Only when they reached a secluded garden tucked away behind high stone walls did Galland stop.

The stillness of the garden surrounded them, the faint rustle of leaves and the distant chirp of birds filling the void. Galland turned to face Gabriel, his expression neutral but his eyes filled with a quiet intensity.

Gabriel broke the silence. “Now you know why I had to keep it a secret.”

Galland nodded slowly. “I understand. But that doesn’t mean I like it. You shouldn’t be in Balatia.”

Gabriel drew a deep breath. “It was my mother’s dying wish for me to come here. When I fled my kingdom, when my guards gave their lives to protect me, Balatia was the only place I could think of. It was my only hope.”

Galland’s gaze softened, his eyes reflecting a quiet, unspoken sympathy. He didn’t speak immediately, allowing Gabriel the space to continue.

“I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t need to,” Gabriel admitted.

Galland gave a small nod, but before he could respond, a sudden cough escaped him, harsh and persistent. He turned slightly, covering his mouth with a clenched fist, his body tensing as the coughing fit persisted.

“Are you well?” Gabriel asked, his brows furrowed with concern.

Galland straightened, forcing the fit to subside with visible effort. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice hoarse but dismissive. “Just a little cough. Nothing to worry about.”

Gabriel studied him for a moment, unconvinced, but chose not to press the matter. Galland’s gaze lingered on Gabriel, deep and searching. Under the weight of that gaze, Gabriel finally looked away, unable to hold the intensity.

“Pain like yours doesn’t just wound—it forges. It could have broken you, but instead, it shaped you into something stronger.” Galland paused, his words hanging in the air before continuing. “I’ve often wondered what drove you. What placed the weight of the world on your shoulders. Now… now I understand.”

Gabriel turned back to him, meeting his eyes again. Galland exhaled, his expression conflicted. “While I care for you deeply, Orion—Gabriel,” he said, the name rolling off his tongue as if testing it. “I can’t support an Accamanian prince in gaining any sort of power in Balatia. Not with the war looming on the horizon. Your presence here is… complicated.”

Gabriel’s jaw tightened, but he held his composure. “I’ve thought this through,” he said, his voice steady. “We’ve talked about this before—Accamania, Balatia—there’s no real difference other than the land we were born into. My allegiance isn’t to a kingdom; it’s to the people I care about and to the people in both kingdoms. This situation is unique, but it’s also an opportunity.”

Galland’s gaze hardened slightly. “You may need to fight a war against your homeland. Are you willing to do that?”

Gabriel hesitated for only a moment before answering. “No, I’m not. But if it comes to protecting my friends, then yes, I will. If it ever comes to a point where I have to kill an Accamanian, I will withdraw from the fighting. But I’ll do everything in my power to prevent it from ever coming to that.”

Galland shook his head. “You’re only one person. You can’t stop a war once it’s begun.”

Gabriel nodded solemnly. “Maybe not. But I want to stay here, Galland. I’ll have to leave eventually, but I’m not ready yet. I need to grow stronger until the opportunity to make a difference presents itself.”

Galland’s stern facade cracked slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “My mind tells me this isn’t the right course of action, but my heart says otherwise.” He let out a slow breath after a moment of deliberation. “I won’t reveal your secret.”

Relief washed over Gabriel like a wave. Without thinking, he stepped forward and hugged the commander. “Thank you, Galland,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Galland awkwardly patted Gabriel’s back before stepping away. “And are we good?” Gabriel asked, his voice quieter, yearning for the older man’s approval.

Galland smiled warmly, his eyes reflecting a rare softness. “We are.” Then, with a laugh asked, “So what did you do to the spider?”

“Something I’ll probably come to regret,” he laughed, knowing that he was accepted. Nothing could overshadow that. A lightness settling in his chest. For the first time in a long time, he felt as if the world was beginning to align in his favor.

A sense of quiet understanding settled between them, broken only by the distant rustling of leaves in the breeze. The world seemed to pause for a moment as the chirping of birds filled the garden. Even a velictra, with its shimmering wings and graceful movements, swooped down and perched nearby, a fleeting moment of serenity in a storm of uncertainty.

The two sat in contemplative silence, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air. There was no rush to speak, no urgency to fill the void. It was a silence not of discomfort, but of recognition—of two lives burdened by duty.

It was Galland who finally broke the stillness, his voice softer than Gabriel had ever heard it. “Tell me about your life in Accamania.”

Gabriel’s breath caught for a moment, his gaze turning distant. The simple question carried a profound weight, more than Galland’s words could convey. It wasn’t just a request for a story—it was a testament to his acceptance of Gabriel, a quiet acknowledgment that who he had been, even in a foreign land, mattered. That he mattered.

Memories surged forth, unbidden yet vivid—the gilded halls of a palace, the laughter of a sister he hadn’t seen in years, the cold sting of betrayal, and the fire of survival. Gabriel looked at Galland, the man’s face steady and expectant, and felt a swell of gratitude.

For years, he had locked away these memories, convinced that sharing them would only deepen the divide between himself and others. But in Galland’s gaze, he saw not judgment, but a quiet invitation—a bridge waiting to be crossed. And for the first time, Gabriel felt ready to step onto it.