In the Aftermath
Queen Liora came running barefoot through shattered marble halls, her silken gown torn by sharp stone and ash.
The moment she saw the burning nursery — the black smoke, the broken wall, her husband bleeding, and her baby untouched in the cradle — she dropped to her knees, a scream caught in her throat.
"Altherion!" she cried, cradling his head.
"He came… for him," the King rasped. "He… knew where to strike."
Guards surrounded them. Healers were summoned. The flames were smothered.
Carsious, silent as ever, lay calmly among the ruin — eyes closed, as if unaware of the carnage that had erupted above his head.
But Liora saw the faint violet shimmer surrounding his skin.
She realized then what her husband had always known.
He was no ordinary boy.
In the Veiled Council Chambers — Beyond Reality
A chamber not built by hands unfolded across dimensions — a dark cathedral suspended in silence, lit only by orbs of memory. Here, Rulers and Monarchs met under false peace.
Thirteen thrones shimmered in crimson. Seven thrones glowed in gold.
The Watcher stood before them, bowing with cracks still running down his broken form.
"I entered the sealed realm. The child has been born. He is the Fracture."
A murmur passed through the Monarchs.
The Rulers said nothing — but three of them stood, visibly shaken.
"What proof?" asked Razor (Ruler), his voice like ice.
The Watcher raised his hand. A sliver of light floated up, flickering with the memory of the event — Carsious's violet gaze, the stone halting mid-air, the child reshaping reality itself.
The room darkened.
Even the Monarchs, proud and ancient, leaned forward in discomfort.
"That should not be possible," whispered Ion (Ruler).
"And yet it is," replied Obraen (Monarch). "We agreed — if the Seal cracked, we act together."
"The Kingdom must be erased," said Cyrthien (Monarch) coldly. "While he still sleeps."
"No," Razor growled. "The father knows. The mother guards him. They will not surrender the child. There will be war."
"Then let there be war," Obraen said.
They raised their hands.
The decision was made.
After the Explosion
The palace burned, but the cradle remained untouched.
Guards ran through the halls. Ash floated in beams of moonlight. Queen Liora clutched her child, and King Altherion, wounded but alive, stood silent at the edge of the nursery — his divine blade humming in his hand.
"He came from the veil," the King muttered. "Not a man. Not a monster. Something sent."
The child slept as if the world were at peace.
Then came the priest.
Clad in cracked gold and trailing incense smoke, the old man dropped to his knees before the King.
"Your Majesty," he gasped. "The Stone of Oracles… it has cracked. The vault glows with violet. The temple bells rang by themselves."
"The word from the Stone?" the King asked.
"Still the same," said the priest, trembling. "Fracture."
"Then call the banners," Altherion said. "Wake every noble, every general, every sorcerer who still serves the crown."
The Council of Steel and Smoke
Before dawn, the Grand Hall of Xandria was filled.
Seated were:
Duke Theran, commander of the Southern legions.
Lady Velira, head of the Nightbound Arcanists.
General Orus, scarred from the War of Nine Peaks.
Magister Kael, keeper of forbidden texts.
And a dozen more — all loyal, all powerful.
King Altherion stood at the front, armor gleaming despite fresh wounds. Behind him, Queen Liora watched in silence, Carsious swaddled in her arms.
"You are not summoned to speak of gold or borders," the King said. "You are summoned because our world is about to be unmade."
Murmurs filled the hall.
He raised a fist, silencing them.
"A creature from beyond the veil entered the palace. A Watcher. He struck at my son — and failed. Something greater protects him."
"The child?" Lady Velira said, frowning. "He is only an infant."
"He shattered the laws of nature in his sleep," the King growled. "He stopped stone with a glance. He is not only my son. He is the thing the Stone of Oracles warned us of."
"Then the prophecy…" Magister Kael whispered, eyes wide. "It was true."
The priest stepped forward then, raising a shaking hand.
"My lords… if the prophecy is waking, then so are the Ancient Ones. The Seal will not hold. And worse — if the Monarchs and Rulers know of his birth…"
"They do," Altherion interrupted. "They've already voted. They will erase us."
Silence.
"This is not a war of nations," he continued. "It is a war of existence. They will come not to conquer, but to erase. Burn the land. Shatter the realm."
"Then we must prepare," General Orus said. "We fight to keep the child hidden."
"No," Queen Liora spoke now. "We fight to keep him alive. He is not a weapon. He is hope."
"Or doom," someone muttered.
The shadows stirred behind the great pillars. A whisper — cold and soft — passed through the room like a breeze through bone.
"He has awakened. We will find him."
No one could trace its source.
But all of them felt it.
King Altherion raised his sword and slammed its hilt against the marble floor.
"Then let them come," he said. "Let the stars fall and the heavens burn. Xandria will not yield."
And in the arms of his mother, Carsious stirred — his fingers curling as if he, too, had heard the whisper.