Chapter 17: Chapter 17: The Shameful Prince’s Triumph
He didn't know how long he had been unconscious, but when the sounds of clashing steel and monstrous roars finally died down, the ground shook with the thunderous hooves of horses and the war cries of battle-hardened men. His father's elite forces had arrived, their silver and emerald banners fluttering in the wind as they cut through the remaining orcs and goblins like a sharp blade slicing through flesh.
The battlefield was littered with bodies both human and beast, each one a grim testament to the horrors of war. But among the death and destruction, one figure stood out.
Lord Alistair Perdium, Leonis's uncle, strode across the field with the grace of a seasoned warrior. His face was hardened by years of battle, but his eyes softened as they fell upon his nephew's broken, bloodied body. He knelt beside Leonis, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight of the prince missing an arm, covered in dirt, blood, and soot.
But alive.
Alistair couldn't help but smile, despite the grim scene around him. The shameful prince—the one they all doubted, the one everyone believed too weak, too unfit for leadership—had done the unthinkable. He had faced a beast most seasoned warriors would fear to fight. And he had won.
The prophecy, Alistair thought, his eyes narrowing as he carefully lifted Leonis onto his shoulder. He had heard whispers of it before, the ancient foretelling that spoke of one who would rise above all others, a descendant of the Perdium bloodline who would wield unimaginable power. Could Leonis be that one?
His heart swelled with pride as he rose to his feet, carrying Leonis with the care of a father tending to his wounded child. The soldiers around him saluted as he passed, their faces grim but respectful. They all knew what Leonis had done, what it had cost him. The whispers had already started to spread among the ranks—stories of the prince who wielded blue fire, who slayed a beast of shadow and saved the remnants of his forces.
"The shameful prince..." one soldier muttered under his breath, but his tone carried a newfound respect. "...did the impossible."
Alistair marched toward the camp where a healer waited to tend to Leonis. The air was thick with tension, the aftermath of battle settling into the soldiers' bones. The goblins and orcs had been defeated, their threat quelled for now, but the cost had been high. Too many lives lost. Too much blood spilled. But Alistair knew that such was the price of leadership. A price Leonis would have to learn to bear.
As they neared the tents, Alistair's mind raced. His nephew had changed. Something had shifted within him, something that went beyond the loss of an arm or the battle itself. Leonis's eyes, that glow of power, that burst of blue fire…
There's more to him than meets the eye.
He laid Leonis gently onto a cot, nodding at the healer who immediately began tending to the prince's wounds. Alistair lingered for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of Leonis's chest. Despite the blood and injuries, despite the agony he must have been feeling, there was a peace to his face. A calm determination that had not been there before.
Alistair smiled again, softer this time. The boy would need time to heal, to learn what had truly awakened inside him. But one thing was clear this was only the beginning of his journey.
The shameful prince had done the unthinkable.
Back at the Perdium palace, whispers of Leonis's victory had already begun to spread. His mother, Empress Isolde, paced anxiously in the royal halls, her heart pounding with worry for her son. His brothers—some filled with concern, others with jealousy awaited word of his return. And his father, Emperor Valerian Perdium, stood in silence, staring out into the horizon, lost in thought.
He knew his son had gone to battle, that he had faced something far more dangerous than any orc or goblin. And now, he waited to see the prince who would return a prince who had not only survived but perhaps, changed the course of destiny.
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