Chapter 32 Threads of Fire and Starlight

Aurelia

The leyrail carriage hummed like a heartbeat beneath my seat, a steady thrum against the storm I held inside. Outside, northern Liora’s emerald hills blurred into ribbons of silver and green. Peaceful. Detached. Entirely unlike the Capital, where the world had already begun to twist itself around a single boy’s name.

Zane Myles.

The projection feed hovering in the carriage pulsed back to life, cycling through yet another special report. The title blazed across the header:

“DEATH KNIGHT SLAYER: LEGEND, LIE, OR UNBOUND?”

The host’s voice—slick, practiced, full of performative outrage—filled the quiet. “It’s official. The Tower confirmed what eyewitnesses reported: Zane Myles, a crestless cadet of no noble affiliation, wielded an ability matching Pure Edge against a Death Knight. Impossible, they said. A myth, they said. And yet, the Rift ash hasn’t cooled and the Kingdom is already reeling.”

A panel of voices overlapped: Tower scholars, Guild captains, political commentators.

“The Tower’s stance,” one dry academic voice cut through, “is that Pure Edge cannot be taught. It is an anomaly—unique to the wielder. If Mr. Myles truly manifested it, then the Tower recognizes him as an Unbound candidate. We advise caution. Such anomalies destabilize balance among the Great Houses.”

Another voice—lower, authoritative. The Adventurers’ Guild stated: “We don’t care if it’s myth or miracle. The boy killed an S-Class Death Knight alone. That’s a battlefield feat. If he wants registration, the Guild will fast-track it. If he wants command, we’ll give him a company tomorrow. We have soldiers dying every day in Koligah. We need weapons like him.”

The Kingdom’s representative spoke last, a woman with clipped tones and a diamond crest pinned at her collar. “The Crown will not issue a statement on Zane Myles’ personal classification. Exceptional individuals like him need to be given space and time to grow into their formidable abilities. Mr. Myles has shown himself to be an extraordinary asset—his honor and bravery belie both his age and station. His individual efforts are important, as are those of all citizens of the Kingdom. We believe the focus at this time should remain on the pressing national security needs of the realm. The allied efforts by the Kassari Principalities, the Crimson Dominion of Seravonne, and the Kingdom itself are bleeding men, resources, and mana in the Koligah States. The war continues to test allied forces. Our focus is there. We acknowledge Zane Myles’ bravery in the face of tremendous odds and absolutely dire circumstances, as well as that of the brave members of the Knight Orders, Army, adventurers, and mercenaries who continue to push back the incursion.”

The Koligah States.

Even the name turned the air cold.

The war in Koligah came from a dungeon that didn’t just break—it awoke. A sprawling, living labyrinth called the World Simulator, rewriting land and law in its wake. Already it had swallowed three provinces whole. Armies marched inside and did not return. The Kassari Principalities had pledged legions. The Dominion of Seravonne had sent warbands. The Crown—and the nobles of my Kingdom—had bent knee long enough to throw soldiers into its maw.

And still the Simulator spread.

Now the commentators turned, as they always did, from awe to hunger. I focused back on the Aircast, which was still talking about Zane.

“House Maiposa has already drafted a marriage proposal,” said one commenter with gleeful malice. “House Valette du Lys, through their heir, is following up aggressively. The Crimson Dominion is even acting coming to the Nine Pillars. This is unprecedented  they don’t typically engage in international student exchanges, yet they’ve sent a caravan of their most accomplished senior students from their main academy—Lady Leona among them. Apparently their ‘Madame’—an equivalent in rank to our Princess Persephone—was included in the transfer. And finally, let’s not forget: Aurelia Vael Taranis offered a family ring in public despite already being engaged. Do we believe that was sanctioned, or was it desperation? This is getting completely out of hand.”

One of the female commendators laughed. "The boy is in demand. This is getting interesting." 

My blood boiled as the laughter grew sharp and cutting.

Kessa, seated across from me, glanced up from her tablet. Her usual sly amusement dimmed to concern. “They’re calling him Zane the Untamed. RealmNet’s running a poll: who should he belong to? You’re at forty percent.”

“Belong.” My teacup trembled once against its saucer before I forced my grip steady.

Dara, broad-shouldered and blunt, leaned back against the cabin wall. “Serephina’s at thirty-eight. Princess Persephone at fifteen. If the Imperial Court acts, it won’t matter what the Houses think. The Doctrine allows a Royal Pact. Outdated, yes—but it’s still law.”

The Imperial Doctrine. Claim by Pact. Outlawed in practice. Feared in theory. Persephone’s name whispered like a blade across court halls.

“He’s too independent for them,” Kessa muttered, though she didn’t sound convinced. “He didn’t flinch when you offered the crest. He didn’t flinch when the Knight charged. I don’t think anything scares him. Not really.”

My voice slipped softer, almost against my will. “He flinches when people look at him like a weapon. But he hides it. He carries the weight of a world no one else can see.”

The projection shifted again, cutting back to commentary.

“…so let’s tally this,” the host was saying. “One cadet. One Willborn sword. Pure Edge—maybe. Millions of fans. Half the noble court scrambling to claim him. And a war in Koligah that’s already consuming entire nations. This isn’t just a story anymore. This is succession. This is survival.”

The panel buzzed. Predictions, bets, schemes.

But inside the carriage, I said nothing. My fingers were white against the cushion. My expression calm.

Dara’s voice cut like a knife. “Would you like me to send an anonymous threat to the Aircast team? Or shall we leak it through Serephina’s channels?”

“Send it through her,” Kessa suggested wickedly.

I exhaled, slow, deliberate. “You’d think the Kingdom had never seen a boy with good posture before.”

“You offered to marry him in public,” Dara said flatly.

“He fought a Death Knight alone,” I countered.

“You also blushed.”

“I did not blush,” I snapped, feeling heat rise anyway.

“Mm,” Kessa hummed knowingly.

Kessa leaned forward, serious now. “Mistress. Why haven’t you contacted him directly?”

“Because I made a public offer. If I message him now, it will look desperate. Undignified.”

“And what will it look like,” Dara said, raising a brow, “when he answers Serephina first? Or Persephone?”

Silence. The broadcast’s chatter filled the void, mocking in its background noise.

“…rumor says the Imperial family is drafting terms already. Word is, Princess Persephone saw the footage and said, ‘I want that one.’”

I rose abruptly. The leyrail carriage jolted with the force of the motion. The projection snapped off, plunging the cabin into silence.

“Prep arrival protocols,” I said, my voice calm once more, my fury sheathed in ice. “We’ll be back on campus within the hour.”

Dara stood. “Subtle outfit? Or politically inconvenient?”

I turned to the window. The towers of Corvalis Arx rose in the distance, sharp against the clouds, beckoning me back into the storm.

“Neither,” I said. My voice cut like a blade.

“Prep the one that says: come near him, and I’ll bury your House.”