Scene 1: Shadows in the Corridor

(Kopaik paces anxiously in the dimly lit corridor, his breath quick and shallow. Chief Lorvan stands opposite him, arms folded, eyes narrowed with barely-contained anger.)

Chief Lorvan (voice low and cutting): "You careless fool! Do you understand what you have done? That stone wasn’t just a relic—it’s the key to everything."

Kopaik (stammering, visibly distressed): "Chief Lorvan, I swear, I put it in the safest place possible. I don't know how... how it could be gone. I thought no one knew."

Chief Lorvan (scowling, suppressing his fury): "No one should have known, not even the king nor his dogs. We hid it for a reason. We’re risking everything for this plan, and you've nearly destroyed it."

(Kopaik’s face falls as he realizes the full weight of his mistake.)

Kopaik (guilt-ridden): "I understand, sir. This stone... it is necessary to get it back soon, or everything we worked for—"

Chief Lorvan (cutting him off): "Stop whining. If anyone suspects us, we are finished. We can’t let them find out why we took it or how it ties into our plans. We’ve hidden this for a purpose, and I will not let your carelessness ruin us."

(Kopaik glances down the hallway, shifting nervously.)

Kopaik: "What should we do, sir? If we search openly, it will draw attention. However, if we stay silent… the stone could slip farther from our grasp. If King knows that I hide the identity of the stone from him, he will kill me"

Chief Lorvan (thinking, a gleam of malice in his eyes): "We’ll proceed carefully. First, I will bring it up in the council—subtly, as if it is only of passing interest. You will be there, too. But remember: say nothing that raises suspicion."

Kopaik: "Yes, sir. I will follow your lead. But I’ll also keep searching in secret, in case... well, in case whoever took it is still nearby."

Chief Lorvan (nodding curtly): "Good. Do that. Moreover, Kopaik—if this stone falls into the wrong hands, it is not just our plan at risk. It’s us. Everything we’re hiding... everything we’ve sacrificed to stay in the shadows... they’ll destroy us if they find out."

Kopaik nods, swallowing hard as he watches Chief Lorvan turn back into the shadows, leaving him alone in the corridor, weighed down by the dread of their dark secret.

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Scene 2: First Encounter

(Salvini sits on his bed wearing underdress tunic, his gaze distant as he struggles to connect the pieces of his puzzling reality. He frowns, lost in thought.)

Salvini (whispering to himself): "What could be the key that ties all of this together?"

He picks up the mysterious book once more, flipping past the familiar pages with information about the stone and the locket. He had already read these details. With cautious fingers, he turns to the third page, where a bold heading captures his attention.

The words "Soul Control" are inscribed at the top, and beneath it, an array of spells stretches down the page. He leans in, reading the description above the first spell, feeling a strange sense of foreboding as he realizes its significance.

Narration: This spell allows the caster to create a soul-to-soul contact, enabling the souls to communicate without speaking, to see what the other sees, and to hear what the other hears. However, only one soul may control the body at a time, though both can converse through thoughts.

Salvini whispers the incantation written beneath, feeling the otherworldly power in the words.

Salvini (murmuring the spell): “Ritharim Essai Vol’aen… Firadosha Lumé.”

Curious, he glances at the next spell, which holds the promise of something even more astonishing.

Narration: The second spell grants the power to exchange control between souls, allowing one soul to inhabit the other’s body for a time.

(The words of the spell seem to hum with energy.)

Salvini (quietly, reading the spell): “Neravas Son’tur… Eskirah Myathar.”

His fingers trail down to the final spell on the page, the one with the most complex requirements.

Narration: The last spell returns the guest soul to its original body, requiring both the Devil's Gate stone and the Portal Diamond Crystal.

(The strange words of the incantation glow faintly, as if infused with dark energy.)

Salvini (speaking slowly, feeling the weight of the spell’s power): “Théravik Dolmar… Eryana Vys’mek Sol.”

Turning the page, he is surprised to find only blank sheets. The spells end here, leaving him with more questions than answers.

Salvini (thinking to himself): "So little information, I need to know more. I need answers why Hamza and I stuck in this mess. There’s something missing—some reason this has happened."

(He closes the book, gripping the locket around his neck, wondering if these strange spells will truly unlock the answers he's been searching for.)

Salvini leans back against the headboard, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to focus. His mind drifts to that familiar dark space where Hamza lies trapped within the crystal. The vision is haunting, the image of Hamza, immobile, imprisoned in a place where light barely touches.

(With a start, Salvini opens his eyes, a sense of calm but urgency washing over him.)

Salvini (whispering to himself): "Hamza... should I use the spell to talk to him?"

He flips back to the page in the book, tracing the words of the spell. As his finger touches the line, a flicker of magic sparks, and a new instruction materializes below the incantation, written in shimmering letters.

Narration: Read three times to work.

(Salvini's breath catches in his throat. His initial shock gives way to fascination.)

Salvini (to himself): "This book... it’s enchanted, like it can reveal secrets as needed."

Determined, he begins to recite the spell with growing intensity, feeling the weight of its magic surround him.

Salvini (murmuring the spell): “Ritharim Essai Vol’aen… Firadosha Lumé.”

(He repeats it, each word resonating with dark energy.)

Salvini: “Ritharim Essai Vol’aen… Firadosha Lumé.”

Salvini (with finality): “Ritharim Essai Vol’aen… Firadosha Lumé.”

As the words fade, a dark, swirling energy—black mana—begins to form around Salvini, snaking through the air like shadows. He feels a shiver of fear but steels himself, closing his eyes once more; he reaches his mind space where Hamza was crystallized.

He finds himself standing in front of the crystalline prison that holds Hamza. The mana flows around them both, swirling ominously, and suddenly, the crystal begins to crack. The sound is sharp—“krk krk”—as fractures splinter across the crystal’s surface.

With a final shatter, the crystal breaks completely, and Hamza tumbles forward, landing on a strange, light-like ground. Breathing heavily, Hamza steadies himself, finally standing face-to-face with Salvini. Both stare in shock and disbelief, taking each other in.

They are strikingly similar yet distinct: Salvini, with his muscular build, red hair tied back, and intense, fiery eyes, stands barefoot in his white underdress tunic; Hamza, slightly leaner but still strong, with blue eyes and dark hair that falls over his nose, is dressed in a simple black T-shirt, blue pants, and black joggers.

(An almost tangible silence settles between them, as if the air itself is thick with meaning.)

Salvini (finally breaking the silence, voice uncertain): "Are...are you Hamza?"

Hamza (still catching his breath, eyes wide with disbelief): "Yes... yes, I... I am."

(They stand there, mirrors of each other yet worlds apart, both wondering what this encounter will reveal.)

Hamza (hesitantly): "Are you... the Prince Salvini? The one whose body… I was using?"

Salvini (nodding): "Yes, I am. But how did this happen? How did we get stuck like this?"

Hamza (thinking hard): "I don’t know exactly. But maybe... did you get the book I wrote in? The one where I explained what happened in my world?"

Salvini: "Yes, I did. You wrote about being with your friends, and then, suddenly, just before that accident… you ended up here, in my body."

Hamza (nodding, his voice uncertain): "Exactly. A boulder was coming towards me, and just before it hit, my locket started shining… and then… I woke up here, in your world."

Salvini (curious): "Your locket? I have one just like it. And in that book, there’s information about our... situation."

Salvini explains what he read in the book about the stones, spells, and the strange connection binding them together, also about the mysterious woman who gives him the book. Hamza listens intently, his face filled with a mix of confusion and shock.

Hamza (eyes wide): "What? So... there are spells in that book? Why don’t we try the third one—if it’s supposed to transfer me back to my body."

Salvini (pausing): "Are you sure? It could be dangerous."

Hamza (determined): "Yes. I need to be in my body again. We can’t go on like this."

(Salvini nods and, with a steadying breath, opened his eyes, returning to his room. He grips the book tightly, flipping to the third spell, and begins to read it aloud.)

Salvini (murmuring the spell): “Théravik Dolmar… Eryana Vys’mek Sol.”

(He repeats it, feeling an odd tension build around him.)

Salvini: “Théravik Dolmar… Eryana Vys’mek Sol.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

With the final repetition, he hears a scream erupt from deep within himself. Shocked, he realizes it’s Hamza’s voice, writhing in pain. Salvini's heart races as he understands that, thanks to the first spell, he can now hear Hamza’s thoughts without needing to enter the mind space.

Salvini (closing his eyes and reaching out to comfort him): "Hamza! What’s happening?"

Hamza (through gritted teeth, his voice shaking): "I... I don’t know. When you went back, I could see and hear everything around you. But the moment you cast the third spell... this pain... it was unbearable. And it didn’t work."

Salvini (thinking aloud): "No, it didn’t. Maybe... it requires something else."

Opening his eyes, Salvini glances down at the open book. Placing his finger on the spell, he watches as more words begin to emerge in faint letters beneath the incantation.

Narration: The body of the transferred soul must be in contact with the host’s body.

Inside, Salvini hears Hamza’s voice again, now calmer and clearer.

Hamza (inside Salvini’s mind): "That explains it all."

Salvini (responding silently, understanding now): "Yes, it does. We need to find your body first. This book... it’s hiding so much from us. We’ll have to find that mysterious woman again."

Hamza (with a hint of relief): "Yes, Prince… we have to. So we can finally live our own lives again."

(With a newfound resolve, Salvini closes the book, his thoughts fixed on the woman who seems to hold all the answers. Together, they know the path forward is treacherous but inevitable.)

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Scene 3: Loyalty and Valour

The training grounds buzzed with quiet anticipation, the three suns casting a fiery glow over the soldiers as they assembled in orderly rows. Chief Kaedan, towering and resolute in his maroon gambeson, surveyed his troops with pride and an unwavering resolve. He took a step forward, his voice commanding but laced with a fatherly strength that made every soldier stand a little straighter.

Chief Kaedan (sternly, voice booming): “Warriors of Ignisara listen well! We face a threat unlike any before. The shadows of Develious gather beyond our borders, and with them, a darkness hungry to consume all the light in this world. These devils do not come with mercy; they come to conquer, to destroy. Our lands, our families, our very way of life stands in peril.”

(He let the weight of his words settle, his gaze steady and penetrating as he continued.)

Chief Kaedan (firmly, eyes glinting with resolve): “But let me tell you this: we are the shield that guards this kingdom, the fire that will not be extinguished. Develious may think us weak, but they know nothing of the courage that runs through our veins. You are warriors of Ignisara, and we shall make them remember that.”

(He looked around, his voice carrying with the authority and strength of a seasoned commander.)

Chief Kaedan (gesturing with his hand, encouragingly): “Train with purpose. Strike with all the power you possess. When the time comes, we will face them not as individuals, but as one unstoppable force!”

The soldiers let out a unified cheer, energized by their leader’s words. As the clamour of training swords filled the grounds, each pair of soldiers moved in formation, sparring and honing their skills. Chief Kaedan walked among them, his watchful eye catching every mistake, every misstep.

Chief Kaedan (sharply, spotting a mistake): “Hold your stance, soldier! That blow was far too light—put your weight behind it!”

He continued, correcting and guiding, his words a steady rhythm of encouragement and discipline. Suddenly, a young soldier stumbled backward, caught off guard by his partner’s strike, and hit the ground with a thud. Kaedan stepped forward, offering his hand.

Chief Kaedan (warmly, extending a hand): “Up you go. No warrior wins every battle, but you rise and fight the next. Remember that.”

The soldier nodded, standing taller with renewed determination, and resumed his training. Just then, Kaedan’s attention was drawn to a familiar figure approaching the grounds. Kaezan, donned in a grey gambeson, a steely determination in his eyes, strode forward, sword in hand.

Chief Kaedan (raising an eyebrow, teasingly): “Well, well, Kaezan! Here to join us?”

Kaezan (nodding with a serious expression): “Yes, Father. I can’t just sit idle while our kingdom is in danger.”

(Chief Kaedan, a glint of playful sarcasm in his eyes, raised an eyebrow.)

Chief Kaedan (mockingly, smirking): “Oh? So, the legendary right-hand man of the prince thinks we’d lose this war without him?”

(Kaezan couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head.)

Kaezan (modestly, a bit embarrassed): “Not quite, Father. I’m here to train. The last time we fought those beasts, I was... useless. I couldn’t protect anyone.”

(A flicker of sadness crossed his face, but Kaedan clapped a firm hand on his son’s shoulder.)

Chief Kaedan (reassuringly, with a smile): “Don’t carry that burden, Kaezan. You are growing stronger every day. One day, you will be a warrior even greater than me. Now, raise that head of yours and step onto the grounds. Let’s see how far you’ve come.”

Kaezan’s face brightened, and without hesitation, he took his place. As father and son squared off, the soldiers around them found themselves glancing at the pair, watching as two seasoned warriors prepared to clash. Kaedan swung his sword first, powerful and direct, but Kaezan dodged swiftly, his movements precise. Their swords met with a clang, each strike a testament to their skill.

Chief Kaedan (grinning proudly, impressed): “Well done! Keep that pace up, and you’ll leave your brother in the dust.”

(Kaezan smiled but then hesitated, his gaze turning thoughtful.)

Kaezan (hesitantly, glancing downward): “That... seems difficult, Father. Brother Kurama is on another level. He is even leaving to join the adventurer’s party, to travel to other nations. I’m still far behind.”

With those words, Kaezan channelled fire into his sword, the flames dancing along the blade with controlled intensity. He struck with a powerful fire slash, each movement steady and purposeful. Kaedan met the blow head-on, using his sword to absorb the attack, a proud smile on his face.

Chief Kaedan (thoughtfully, glancing away): “Ah, Kurama. A talented lad indeed, but... sometimes, I sense a strange darkness in him.”

(Kaezan frowned, taken aback.)

Kaezan (with concern, furrowing his brows): “What do you mean, Father?”

Chief Kaedan (shaking his head slightly, uncertain): “I don’t know, son. Just... something in his eyes.”

Not wanting to dwell on it, Kaezan took a stance, raising his sword high as flames swirled around it, forming a spiraling inferno.

Kaezan (focused, voice steady): “Blazing Stream!”

He brought the sword down, and the fire burst forth like a torrent, surging toward Kaedan in a fierce stream still connected to his blade. Kaedan held his ground, using his sword as a shield, but the force of the blow pushed him back slightly. When the flames receded, both father and son stood breathless, locked in a moment of mutual respect.

The soldiers erupted into applause, moved by the intensity and skill on display. Kaezan beamed, and Kaedan clapped him on the back.

Chief Kaedan (grinning with pride): “Well done, son. You’ve improved more than I could have hoped.”

Kaezan (smiling gratefully): “Thank you, Father. With you to guide me, I’ll only get stronger.”

Their laughter echoed across the grounds, and as they prepared for the coming trials, each knew they would face the looming darkness together, as family and warriors of Ignisara.

The sound of clashing swords and crackling fire echoed across the training grounds as soldiers continued their practice, energized by Chief Kaedan’s speech. Kaezan, catching his breath from his intense sparring match with his father, acknowledged the soldiers' applause with a modest smile.

As they began to disperse, a few soldiers huddled close, their eyes darting towards Kaezan as they whispered to each other, their voices low yet carrying just enough for Kaedan and Kaezan to overhear.

Soldier 1 (whispering, glancing at Kaezan): “Look at him, his control over combat magic is so much better than the prince’s.”

Soldier 2 (nodding, with a smirk): “Yes, the prince can’t manage even simple spells without tearing up half the training grounds.”

Soldier 3 (grimacing): “Last time I was just lucky—if the king hadn’t stepped in, I’d have been burnt to a crisp when the prince sparred with Chief Kaedan. He’s a handful.”

Soldier 1 (shrugging): “Annoying, isn’t he?”

Kaezan’s expression darkened, his fists clenching as he heard their words. Fury flared within him, and he turned, his voice cold and intense.

Kaezan (angrily, gripping his sword): “How dare you disrespect the prince in my presence? Who are you to speak of him in such a way?”

In a swift motion, flames began to lick along the blade of his sword, and the inferno grew in intensity as Kaezan stepped forward, intent on teaching them a lesson. Chief Kaedan moved quickly, gripping Kaezan’s arm firmly, stopping him.

Soldier 2 (defensively, with a nervous glance): “We’re only speaking the truth! The prince nearly injured us last time...”

Kaezan glared, his anger only growing, and was about to respond sharply when Kaedan raised a hand, signalling him to hold his temper. His voice was calm but laced with an unyielding edge.

Chief Kaedan (coldly, to the soldiers): “I’m surprised you have so much courage to speak against the prince.” (His eyes narrowing) “But that courage seemed nowhere to be found when the beasts attacked. Or have you forgotten?”

The soldiers paled, their bravado crumbling under Kaedan’s withering stare.

Soldier 1 (stammering, eyes downcast): “Sorry, Chief. It...Won’t happen again.”

Chief Kaedan (sternly, with a warning tone): “Make sure it doesn’t. Not even in your thoughts.” (Glancing at them sharply) “Because if you’re willing to talk behind his back, perhaps I should rethink your commitment to this kingdom.”

The soldiers swallowed hard, their faces a mixture of fear and shame as they murmured their apologies. Just as the tension settled, General Solmar strode into the training grounds, clad in the black and red armor of Ignisara, his presence commanding as he approached.

General Solmar (respectfully, with a nod): “Chief Kaedan, the council meeting is about to begin.”

Chief Kaedan (nodding, releasing Kaezan’s arm): “Understood, General. I’ll be there shortly.” (Turning to Kaezan) “Kaezan, come with me. Let’s head to the council—and find your brother on the way.”

Kaezan, still simmering with anger, sheathed his sword with a final glare at the soldiers, who remained silent and wary under his gaze. With a nod to his father, he followed Kaedan and General Solmar as they left the training grounds, their footsteps echoing the calm before the storm.

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Scene 4: A Prince’s Struggle

Queen Marissa sat at her dressing table, brushing her long, blonde hair thoughtfully, while King Solomon adjusted the straps of his armor. His expression was firm, eyes focused as he pondered over the day ahead.

King Solomon (calmly, with a hint of contemplation): “Marissa, I think we should include Salvini in today’s council meeting. I’ve been thinking of a way to help him—something he needs.”

Queen Marissa (looking up from the mirror, curious): “Yes, he should be in the meeting; he is the prince, after all, and rightful heir to the throne. But what are you planning for him?”

King Solomon (thoughtful, adjusting his armor): “He must learn to control his powers. I have come up with an idea for his training. But first, let me check on him and make sure he’s preparing for the council.”

Queen Marissa (smiling softly): “Alright, dear. I’ll get myself ready.”

The king nodded, glancing at her once more before heading towards their son’s chambers. Queen Marissa continued with her preparations, her face a mixture of hope and concern for their son.

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In Salvini’s room, he sat cross-legged on his bed, a quiet laugh escaping him as he conversed with Hamza. Hamza, in his usual cheerful way, had just finished sharing a story about a prank he pulled on Mr. Akram, the strict manager of the orphanage he used to live in.

Salvini (chuckling, sadness in eyes): “So you were all alone for so long, yet you had people who cared for you, who loved and respected you.”

Hamza (reminiscing, warmly): “Yes, it felt like home to have them. And my mentor, Ustad Imran—he was the one who helped me the most. But...why do you sound sad?”

Salvini (smiling faintly, though his expression becomes melancholic): “I’m not sad, really. I have a mentor who cares for me too—Chief Kaedan. He’s like family.”

Hamza (softly): “Yes, I’ve seen how he looks out for you.”

Salvini (smiling, wistful): “And I have my father and mother—they love me deeply. I even have one best friend. But it feels like everyone else in the kingdom…they just see me as a nuisance.”

Hamza (genuinely surprised): “A nuisance? Why would they think that?”

Salvini (sighing, looking down): “Because I can’t control my powers. I hurt people and destroy things around me, even when I don’t mean to. They have no respect for me. They all hate me.”

Hamza (encouragingly): “Don’t worry, Prince. You have one more friend now—me.”

Salvini’s expression brightened, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

Salvini (gratefully): “Yes, Hamza, we’re friends from now on.”

They both laughed quietly, a bond forming between them, easing Salvini’s loneliness. Hamza, curious and eager, leaned into the conversation.

Hamza (with a spark of excitement): “Tell me more about this world, Salvini. I want to know everything.”

Just as Salvini was about to answer, a knock echoed through the room. Both boys went silent, and the door creaked open to reveal King Solomon standing there, his imposing yet gentle presence filling the doorway.

King Solomon (kindly, smiling at his son): “Salvini, may I come in?”

Salvini (quickly getting up from the bed, a little startled): “Of course, Father.”

The king stepped inside, noticing his son’s bright expression, though his brows knitted slightly in curiosity.

King Solomon (observing him, curious): “Weren’t you speaking to someone when I knocked, my boy?”

Salvini (fumbling, unsure): “N-No, Father, I was just...talking to myself.”

(Hamza’s voice suddenly chimed in, audible only to Salvini.)

Hamza (playfully, in Salvini's thoughts): “Your father seems like a nice guy.”

Salvini (internally, trying to stay composed): “Quiet, Hamza! You’ll get us caught!”

(The king’s expression shifted, sensing something unusual but deciding to let it pass.)

King Solomon (gently): “How are you feeling now, Salvini?”

Salvini (smiling, though a bit flustered): “I’m doing well, Father.”

King Solomon (firmly, but warmly): “Good. Prepare yourself, my boy. You’ll be attending the council meeting today. It’s an important one.”

With a nod, the king left, leaving Salvini to prepare. As the door closed, Salvini let out a deep sigh, turning toward Hamza with a mixture of relief and frustration.

Salvini (annoyed, glaring at the air): “You fool! What were you thinking, talking in front of my father?”

Hamza (innocent, chuckling): “But he can’t hear me, can he?”

Salvini (crossing his arms, annoyed): “Maybe not, but I can! You nearly got me all confused in front of him.”

Hamza (mocking, with a grin): “It’s not my fault you lack confidence, Prince.”

Salvini (rolling his eyes, frustrated): “You’re impossible.”

Hamza (laughing): “That’s what friends are for.”

The two shared a moment of silent laughter, as Salvini prepared himself for the challenges of the day, bolstered by the strange, unexpected friendship that was slowly becoming his source of strength.

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Until next time: