'Not all kings wear crowns. And not all thrones are built for sitting."
I. Invitation from the Serpent
It came at dawn.Delivered in a scroll made of black silk and bound with gold thread, the seal carved in obsidian: a coiled lion devouring its own tail.
The Royal Crest of Prince Aurelian Ravaryn.Firstborn of the High Throne. Heir Apparent. The man Cael once called cousin.
Now? Just another viper in a pit of them.
"To the Unregistered Scion of Velren.
You have trespassed, broken code, and bled nobility inside sacred halls.You are summoned. Noon. Solarium Court.Appear, or be hunted."
Cael stared at the scroll for a long minute.
Eira whistled low. "That reads more like a threat than an invitation."
"It is," Cael muttered. "But I'm going."
Sarre leaned in. "You realize this is a trap."
"I do. But even snakes fear fire."
II. Solarium Court
Built from mirrored marble and infused with sunfire runes, the Solarium Court was both a throne room and an execution stage.
Cael walked in alone.
No sword. No shield. Only the glyph Mira had given him — tucked in his collarbone like a secret prayer.
Nobles lined the chamber edges. Black-and-gold-clad aristocrats from every House. They watched with folded arms and sharper smiles.
At the far end, lounging atop a throne that wasn't yet his, sat Prince Aurelian.
Twenty-two. Golden-eyed. Hair like sunlight soaked in blood. And behind those regal features, a brain wired for destruction.
He didn't rise when Cael approached.
Didn't need to.
The court bowed to him, not because of his power — but because of what he could do.
"You've caused quite the mess, cousin," the Prince said, voice like silk dragged across a blade.
Cael didn't bow. "Cleaning up after you is a full-time job."
Aurelian's smile flickered. Brief. Sharp. "Still witty. That's cute. I was fond of you once."
"You had me executed."
"I said 'once.'"
The court chuckled, sensing tension. Hungry for drama.
Aurelian rose from his seat. "Let's not pretend. You returned from death. You walk freely in an academy you're banned from. You've humiliated my House's allies and revealed state secrets."
Cael said nothing.
The Prince stepped down. Close. Closer.
"Tell me, Velren. What do you want?"
Cael looked him dead in the eyes. "Your throne."
III. Lions Don't Share
Aurelian's laugh rang like bells. "You think this is a game?"
Cael's voice was calm. "No. I think it's a test. And you're failing."
The court fell silent. Even the walls felt colder.
"You've ruled by control. By suppression. You twist bloodlines and install glyphs in children. You call it order. I call it rot."
"You speak treason."
"I speak truth."
Aurelian's eyes gleamed. "Then prove it. Duel me. Here. Now."
Gasps. Audible disbelief.
A Royal Blood Duel was sacred. Public. Binding.
Cael didn't flinch. "Accepted."
Sarre's voice screamed in his ear via whisper-glyph: "Cael, NO—"
Too late.
The duel seal lit between them. A sun sigil drawn in red fire.
No rules.
No mercy.
Only one left standing.
IV. The Prince's Wrath
Aurelian struck first.
A solar barrage — light turned into spears, glyphs sewn into every ray. The kind of magic that burned through city walls.
Cael deflected with shadowlayers — magic inverted and reflected using Mira's gifted glyph.
He charged.
Closed the gap.
They clashed in silence and light. Sparks lit the air like fireflies.
Aurelian wasn't just strong. He was trained to kill gods.
But Cael?Cael was built to tear down crowns.
They fought through columns, crashed through shields, flung sigils that split the sky.
On the sixth exchange, Cael whispered a single word: "Break."
And the Prince's right gauntlet exploded.
Shrapnel tore his shoulder.
But he grinned. "Now you're interesting."
He cast the forbidden glyph — Corona Ultima.
A sun dragon born of flame rose above the throne. Its roar shook the court.
Cael bled from the mouth.
The spell was too big.
Too raw.
But he didn't step back.
He looked up and smiled.
Because the throne behind the dragon... was now cracked.
V. The Fracture
Cael had aimed all his deflections, his dodges, his backsteps — not at surviving, but at redirecting Aurelian's own magic.
The Solarium's core was fracturing.
One last glyph. One Mira gave him.
He unleashed it.
"Sovereign Null."
A rare sigil.
A kingkiller.
It silenced magic in a ten-foot radius — including Aurelian's.
The sun dragon roared, sputtered, and died.
Aurelian stumbled.
Cael stepped in. Fist to face.
The Prince hit the marble.
Hard.
Gasps again. This time... fear. Hope.
The Hollow Crown had cracked.
VI. Aftermath
Cael didn't wait.
He didn't bow.
He turned and walked from the Solarium, eyes on every noble who looked away from the throne.
One by one, they lowered their gaze.
Not to the Prince.
To him.
Later, in the Moon Garden, Mira found him.
"You're insane," she whispered.
"Only on the days that end in 'y,'" he replied.
She smirked, then leaned in. "You made him bleed. The court won't forget."
"They're not meant to."
He looked up at the stars.
"Now they know: the crown might be hollow… but it still cuts."