The Night Before Departure

Almost 2 weeks passed since Elara arrived at the castle. She didn’t try anything funny during her time here.

I had told my father I would go and we had decided on what we would share with the empire. He was a little tense at first but after seeing my resolve he had calmed down a bit.

I could not sleep tonight though.

My body was tired but my mind refused to follow. Every time I closed my eyes I saw fire or blood or golden eyes staring back at me.

So, I gave up.

I pushed myself out of bed and dressed lightly. No armor. No blade. Just clothes enough to keep the cold off. Sebastian was likely asleep by now and the guards would not question me wandering the halls. They were used to it lately.

When I stepped outside the chill struck me at once.

Cold air slid against my skin and for a moment my breath caught.

The sensation dragged something up from deep inside me.

That night.

The freezing numbness in my chest. The unnatural cold spreading through my veins. The way the black steel dagger had felt buried inside my heart.

I stopped walking.

My hand pressed instinctively against my sternum where the star rested beneath cloth. The heat was faint tonight but present. Always present.

I exhaled slowly.

There was something I had avoided since my return. Something I had not allowed myself to think about too deeply.

The dagger.

I had not gone to see it. Not once.

It should still be in the great hall displayed as it always was. A symbol. A tradition. A relic passed down through generations of my family.

A wedding dagger.

Given to the woman who married into the Valerius bloodline. Not as decoration but as promise.

To protect.

To kill.

The irony tasted bitter now.

I began to walk faster.

The castle was quiet at this hour. Torches burned low along the corridors casting long shadows against stone. My footsteps echoed softly as I moved through halls I knew by heart.

Every turn felt familiar yet wrong. These halls had burned once. I had seen bodies piled here. Now they stood untouched and clean as if mocking me.

The great hall doors loomed ahead.

I pushed them open.

Moonlight poured in through the tall glass windows bathing the chamber in silver. The banners hung motionless. The air smelled of polished stone and old wood.

And there it was.

The dagger rested inside its glass case at the center of the hall.

Black steel.

Even from a distance I felt it. A faint pull. Not mana. Something else. Something colder.

I took a step forward.

Then I froze.

I was not alone.

Someone stood before the display.

A slender figure bathed in moonlight. Her long hair caught the silver light as it fell down her back. She stood still hands folded lightly before her as she stared at the dagger through the glass.

For a split second my heart stuttered.

Her.

She looked unreal like this. Almost like the goddess statues the priests worshipped in the church.

The same woman who had plunged that blade into my heart.

I forced my breathing to remain steady.

“What are you doing here” I asked.

My voice echoed softly through the hall.

She startled. Truly startled. Her shoulders twitched and she turned toward me eyes widening slightly before she relaxed.

“Oh” she said. “I could not sleep.”

Her tone was casual almost embarrassed.

“I went out for a walk and ended up here.”

Her gaze drifted back to the dagger.

“When I saw it I stopped.”

She stepped a little closer to the glass.

“It is beautiful” she said. “And practical.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Practical”

She nodded.

“Unlike ceremonial daggers this one can actually be used to kill.”

The words slid out of her mouth without hesitation.

I felt nothing on my face but inside something twisted.

“Yes” I said calmly. “That is the point.”

I walked closer.

“It is given to the woman who marries into my family on the day of marriage.”

She glanced at me briefly then back at the blade.

“To be used to kill” I continued.

“And to protect yourself and the ones you love from anyone who comes to harm.”

And you used it to kill me once.

The thought echoed silently. Heavy.

I reached the case and unlocked it. The glass lifted soundlessly.

Her eyes followed every movement.

I wrapped my fingers around the hilt.

The cold bit into my skin instantly.

My breath hitched before I could stop it.

The sensation was unmistakable.

This was the same dagger.

Holding it again felt wrong. Like touching my own grave.

The black steel reflected moonlight sharply. For a moment I saw my reflection warped across its surface. Pale. Hard. Alive.

“So it will one day be mine” she said lightly.

She smiled.

“Do not worry. I will take good care of it.”

I resisted the urge to laugh.

Of course she would say that.

I shook my head internally. She really was a lunatic obsessed with blades. How she managed to be a princess was a mystery even now.

“Why are you removing it” she asked.

Then she leaned a little closer.

“Show it to me properly now that you have taken it off.”

“No” I said.

I closed the case and turned away.

“I need to take it for something.”

I needed to have it examined. I needed to know if this dagger had anything to do with my magic being devoured. With the star breaking. With my regression itself.

“Go back and sleep” I said.

I did not look at her.

I started walking.

I could feel her staring at my back.

I could almost see her pouting expression without turning.

I left the great hall with the dagger in hand.

The black steel reflected moonlight as I walked through the dark corridors.

Looking at the weapon that got you killed felt strange.

I returned to my room and wrapped the dagger in cloth before placing it inside a locked chest. The cold lingered on my skin long after I let go.

Sleep did not come easily even after that.

When morning arrived it came too fast.

We departed at sunrise.

The castle gates opened slowly as horses were led forward. Carriages waited nearby prepared for the journey to the royal capital.

Sebastian stood beside me already prepared as always. His posture was perfect and his expression calm though I could tell he was alert.

Another knight waited near the horses.

Lucas.

He stood tall armour polished and clean. He carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone who had survived real battle. He was my guard knight.

When he saw me, he placed a fist to his chest and bowed.

“My lord.”

“Lucas” I said.

It felt strange seeing him like this again.

He was the only son of Sir Lancelot.

The Knight Commander who had died protecting me in my memories.

Seeing Lucas alive and strong filled me with something close to relief and guilt all at once. As even he had died protecting me later just like his father.

He had returned recently from monster subjugation on the southern border. Stronger. Sharper. More seasoned than before.

We mounted our horses. The carriage rolled forward. Guards saluted. The city gates opened.

The journey to the capital began.

As the road stretched ahead my thoughts returned to the same conclusion I had reached nights ago.

I needed answers.

And there were only a few people in this world who could give them.

Archmages.

In this world anyone with mana was born with an affinity. Elements responded differently to different people. Fire, water, wind, earth, lightning, light, darkness. And more obscure forces beyond those.

For me it had been gravity.

My affinity to gravity magic had always been the strongest.

So, I studied it the most.

Practiced it the most.

Pushed it the furthest.

Before it stopped responding to me.

Archmages were different from ordinary mages. They were not defined by talent alone but by obsession.

They spent their entire lives pursuing knowledge. Creating spells instead of learning them. Breaking rules instead of following them.

They were few.

They obeyed no one.

They did not meddle in politics or wars.

They lived in isolation.