Clip-clop. Clip-clop.

The rhythmic echo of my hooves on the polished marble floors filled the grand hall, each step amplified by the quiet stillness that surrounded me. These floors, so painstakingly scrubbed and shined by the maids of the manor, gleamed with a cold, sterile perfection. A reflection of the shifting tides within these walls. Once, these halls buzzed with the lighthearted chatter of servants who doted on me as if I were an exotic treasure. Now, their voices had fallen silent.

The maids moved about with a deliberate avoidance, their gazes sliding away whenever I entered their line of sight. Their polite smiles had faded, replaced with stony indifference. It was clear where their loyalties lay; the frost of Queen Selene’s disdain had seeped into every corner of the castle. And I was no longer the treasured pet of Princess Elara—at least, not in the eyes of those who had once showered me with praise.

Clip-clop. Clip-clop.

By my side walked Cassian, his lighthearted presence a stark contrast to the chilly atmosphere that surrounded us. His dark curls bounced slightly as he strode along, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his long coat. He didn’t seem the least bit affected by the maids’ icy treatment, flashing a grin at a passing servant who barely spared him a glance.

“Not sure what you did, but it seems like you’re not exactly a crowd favorite anymore,” he remarked, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips. He reached out and patted my mane as though we were old companions. “Guess it’s just you and me now, ol’ buddy, ol’ pal.”

I snorted in mild annoyance, but I couldn’t entirely suppress the faint warmth that flickered in my chest. His tone held a playful sincerity, and though I didn’t fully trust him—how could I, after the trials he had put me through?—his camaraderie was oddly comforting.

As we walked, my gaze wandered upward to the marble pillars lining the corridor, each a masterpiece of craftsmanship. Intricate patterns spiraled along their surfaces, weaving stories of the Aurelian Empire’s past. Above, the ceiling gleamed with gilded engravings, their details catching the faint flicker of torchlight. They depicted the kingdom’s legendary founder, King Augustus, in a sequence of awe-inspiring moments: the creatures of the forest bowing in submission, their forms etched with an almost reverent grace; armies clashing in a chaotic ballet of war; and, finally, the king himself standing triumphant, his sword raised high as a symbol of unification. The scenes unfolded like chapters of an epic, celebrating a man whose unmatched valor forged peace from chaos and brought warring kingdoms under one banner. It was impossible not to feel the weight of history pressing down, a reminder of the legacy that shaped these lands—and, perhaps, the burdens left in its wake..

At the end of the hall, leaning casually against one of the ornate pillars, was Elara. Her golden hair caught the light, framing her face in a soft halo. She straightened as she caught sight of us, her mismatched eyes—one a piercing blue, the other a warm hazel—shining with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

“Since when were the two of you so close?” she asked, her voice carrying a teasing lilt.

I huffed, turning my head sharply to convey my denial. Cassian, however, burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the empty hall.

“Careful, Your Highness,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I might end up stealing him away from you. We’re practically best friends now.”

Before Elara could respond, a sharp voice cut through the air, shattering the lighthearted atmosphere.

“Cassian!”

We turned to see a tall, imposing man striding toward us. His appearance was immaculate, from his perfectly tailored suit to the polished shoes that clicked against the marble with each step. His posture was rigid, his expression stern, and his aura exuded authority. This, I realized, must be Lord Reginald Wildmane—Cassian’s father.

“Where have you been?” Reginald demanded, his tone clipped and brimming with disapproval. “Do you not understand the importance of the situation? You’re expected to—oh.” His sharp gaze shifted to Elara, and his demeanor softened instantly. “Your Highness,” he said with a respectful bow. “My deepest apologies for any inconvenience my son may have caused.”

Elara inclined her head gracefully, her expression composed. “There’s no need to apologize, Lord Reginald. On the contrary, Cassian has been of great help to me.”

Reginald’s eyebrows lifted ever so slightly in surprise before his lips curved into a polite smile. “I see,” he said smoothly. “I’m glad to hear that he has been of some use.”

Cassian’s jovial mask slipped for a moment, replaced by a blank, almost resigned expression. The change was subtle but noticeable, and it sent a pang of unease through me. Whatever tension lay between father and son ran deep, its roots buried beneath layers of decorum.

A second figure entered the hall, his resemblance to Cassian so striking that it took me a moment to process the difference. This man—Geoffrey, I later learned—was Cassian’s twin. But where Cassian exuded an easygoing charm, Geoffrey was the epitome of discipline and refinement. His dark hair was neatly combed, his suit pristine, and his every movement measured.

“Father,” Geoffrey said, his tone even and respectful. “His Majesty has summoned us.”

Reginald’s eyes lit up at the sight of his other son, his stern features softening into an expression of genuine pride. “Ah, yes. We mustn’t keep the king waiting.” He turned to Cassian, his sharpness returning. “You will accompany us.”

Cassian nodded wordlessly, his shoulders stiff as he fell in step behind his father and brother. As they departed, I watched his retreating figure, my chest tightening with an inexplicable sense of sympathy.

Elara broke the silence that followed, her hand remaining at her side. “Come on, Astralus,” she said softly. “We will have to attend as well.”

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Elara and I walked together down the hall, the sound of my hooves and her soft footfalls mingling as we moved. Despite her composed demeanor, there was a subtle tension in her posture—her shoulders slightly stiff, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. I could sense the weight of something unsaid pressing down on her, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

The hall opened into the grand atrium of the castle, where the royal family often hosted dignitaries and important guests. The space was breathtaking, with towering stained-glass windows that painted the marble floor in hues of crimson and gold. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystals catching the light and scattering it in a dazzling display.

In the center of the atrium stood King Arion, the very image of regal authority. His dark hair was flecked with silver, and his golden eyes gleamed with a quiet intensity. He wore his crown with ease, as though it were an extension of himself rather than a symbol of his power. Standing beside him was Queen Selene, her icy beauty as intimidating as ever.

The Wildmane family stood opposite them, their formal attire pristine. Reginald and Geoffrey exuded confidence, their postures perfect, while Cassian remained slightly apart, his expression unreadable.

As Elara and I approached, King Arion’s gaze fell on us, and a warm smile spread across his face. “Ah, Elara, my dear,” he said, his deep voice resonating through the room. “And Astralus, our loyal companion.”

The mention of my name caught me off guard. I wasn’t accustomed to being acknowledged in such a formal setting. Queen Selene’s lips tightened ever so slightly, a flicker of displeasure crossing her face.

“Astralus has been a steadfast guardian to my daughter,” King Arion continued, his tone filled with genuine affection. “He has served our family well, and I believe it is time to honor that service.”

Elara stiffened beside me. I glanced at her, puzzled by her reaction. King Arion’s words seemed kind, even noble. But there was something beneath them—an undercurrent of finality that set my nerves on edge.

“To strengthen our alliance with the Wildmane family,” the king said, his gaze shifting to Reginald, “I have decided to entrust Astralus to their care. There are no finer beast tamers in the continent, and I am confident they will bring out the best in him.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. My ears flattened, and I took an involuntary step back, the realization sinking in. This wasn’t an honor—it was a transaction. I was being handed over, like a piece of property.

Elara’s breath caught, and I noticed her hand tremble. “Father,” she began, her voice steady but laced with urgency. “Astralus is more than a mere steed. He—”

“Is a valued part of our kingdom,” King Arion interrupted gently but firmly. “Which is why I have chosen the Wildmanes. Their expertise is unmatched. This decision benefits everyone.”

Reginald inclined his head, his expression one of gratitude. “Your Majesty, we are honored by your trust. Rest assured, Astralus will receive the finest care.”

Elara’s fist tightened, her knuckles white. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Queen Selene’s cold voice cut through the tension. “Elara, do not embarrass your father with protests. His decision is final.”

Elara’s lips pressed into a thin line, her mismatched eyes burning with unspoken defiance. She glanced at me, and the anguish in her gaze sent a pang through my chest. But she said nothing more.

The tension in the atrium was palpable, an unspoken battle of wills between Elara and her father. But King Arion’s decision stood like an immovable wall, fortified by Queen Selene’s icy authority. The Wildmanes looked on with practiced neutrality. Cassian, however, remained oddly subdued, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the room, as though he were trying to distance himself from the situation.

“Very well,” Elara said finally, her voice soft but firm. She turned toward me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “May I have a moment with Astralus before he leaves?”

King Arion regarded her with a mixture of fondness and indulgence. “Of course, my dear. But do not keep our guests waiting for too long.”

Elara didn’t respond. She simply placed a hand on my neck and guided me away from the gathering, her steps brisk and determined. I followed her silently, the weight of the moment pressing down on us both.

She led me through the familiar corridors of the castle, the ornate decor passing by in a blur. Finally, we reached her chambers—a space that had always felt like a sanctuary. The room was filled with soft, warm light streaming through the tall windows, casting a golden glow over the bookshelves, the intricately woven rugs, and the elegant canopy bed. It was a place of comfort, but today it felt heavy with the shadow of impending separation.

The door closed softly behind us, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. Elara stood with her back to me, her hands clenched at her sides. When she finally turned, her face was a mixture of anger, sorrow, and determination.

“You have to come back,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. She stepped closer, her hand reaching up to stroke my mane. “Promise me, Astralus. Promise me you’ll find a way back to me.”

For a moment, the strange tension between us ebbed, and the magical bond forged by the scroll stirred with quiet intensity. Through its tether, I felt her emotions brush against mine—a tide of sorrow tinged with something sharper, more conflicted. Her feelings were a fragmented storm: grief, guilt, and something unspoken that clawed at the edges of my awareness. They poured into me, blurring the line between us, until the weight of it compelled me to let out a soft, mournful whinny. I pressed my head against her chest, the action instinctive, seeking to soothe the dissonance I didn’t fully understand. Her fingers tightened in my mane, as if anchoring herself to the moment, even as her tears soaked into my coat. Her shoulders shook silently, and I felt the faintest flicker of hesitation—an ache not born of sorrow alone.

The moment stretched, the weight of unspoken words filling the air between us. I longed to comfort her. Since long ago I wished to tell her the truth about who I was. If she knew, if she truly understood what I had been, would she still look at me with the same warmth? Or would she see me as a stranger, an imposter?

After a long silence, Elara pulled back, her hands still resting on my neck. “I’ll take care of things here,” she said softly, her voice steadier now. “But you have to promise me you’ll survive. No matter what happens, don’t give up.”

I nodded, the gesture small but resolute. Her lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile, and she leaned forward to press her forehead against mine. “You’ll always be welcome here,” she whispered.

A knock at the door shattered the moment.

“Elara,” Queen Selene’s voice called, cool and commanding. “It’s time.”

Elara straightened, her expression hardening as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. She gave me one last lingering look before turning toward the door. “Remember,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Come back.”

When we returned to the atrium, the Wildmanes were waiting. Outside the castle, their wyverns had been prepared for travel—massive, scaled beasts with leathery wings and piercing eyes that glinted with intelligence. One of them carried a luxurious cage, its gilded bars adorned with intricate carvings and lined with plush cushions. It was a cage fit for royalty, but a cage nonetheless.

The sight of it filled me with a deep, gnawing dread.

Reginald gestured toward the cage, his smile polished and reassuring. “Come now, Astralus. We’ll ensure your journey is as comfortable as possible.”

I hesitated, my hooves rooted to the ground. The instincts of my old life screamed at me to run, to fight, to resist. But a glance at Elara’s face—her quiet, desperate plea shining in her mismatched eyes—kept me still. With a heavy heart, I stepped forward and entered the cage.

The door closed behind me with a soft click, the sound final and unyielding. As the wyvern carrying the cage spread its wings and took to the sky, the castle grew smaller and smaller beneath us. I pressed my muzzle against the bars, my gaze fixed on Elara’s shrinking figure until she disappeared entirely.