Shadow Over the Heavenly Throne

I was alone.

Not in the literal sense—I could feel the warmth of my mother’s body, her steady breathing, the rhythm of her heartbeat. But the grand hall, once bustling with people, had fallen silent. The healers, advisors, messengers… they had all left. Only the two of us remained.

Me—a helpless infant, trapped in a body too weak to move. And her—the Queen.

And I couldn’t see her.

Everything was blurred.

Like a thick mist veiling the world, the images around me melted into shapeless patches of light and shadow. I couldn’t see her face, couldn’t make out anything clearly. Before, in the womb, I had sensed and understood more than ever before. But now? Now, I was… trapped within my own body.

Was this some kind of joke?!

I clenched my tiny fists. I wouldn’t accept this. I wouldn’t allow this world to limit me. For months, Qi had flowed freely through me. I had absorbed it, shaped it, let it strengthen my body. Now, I would do the same.

I reached for it instinctively. It was everywhere—wild, thrumming in the air like thousands of unseen threads of energy. I drew it into myself, pulling it inward, and then I directed it… straight to my eyes.

For a brief moment, I felt warmth. A pleasant tingling, like sunlight grazing my skin.

And then… the world exploded into color.

Blinding light. A sudden flood of hues. Bursts of shadow and brilliance. For a moment, it was unbearable. It was too much. My eyes burned, my head throbbed. Everything was too bright, too sharp, as if the world had been flung open before me, unfiltered and raw.

I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the overwhelming clarity. The chaos of colors gradually took shape, the blurred contours settling into defined lines.

And for the first time, I saw her.

The Queen. My mother.

Everything else faded from my mind.

Not because I had regained my vision. Not because Qi had obeyed me so effortlessly. But because she was… breathtaking.

Her skin gleamed like the finest jade, flawless, radiating an inner light. Her hair—long, silver—cascaded around her shoulders as if woven from strands of moonlight. And her eyes… they were like the depths of the cosmos, infinite, enigmatic, as though they held the secrets of the world itself. She was perfection. She was… otherworldly.

And she was looking at me.

Her gaze narrowed slightly, as if she had noticed something. Her hand, warm and delicate, rose to brush against my cheek.

"You…" she whispered.

My heart pounded. Did she… see it?

It shouldn’t have been possible for a newborn to suddenly regain sight. And yet, here I was. I could feel her scrutiny, the sharp instincts that told her something about me was different.

I had to stop. I had to calm myself. But… it was so difficult. In her eyes, I saw not just power, but something I never expected from her.

Concern.

"You used Qi…" she murmured, disbelief lacing her voice. There was no fear in it, no anger—just something deeper. Awe.

Her fingers traced gently over my face, lingering over my eyes. She took a slow breath.

"Does it hurt? Do you feel exhausted?" she asked softly, as though she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

Her question startled me. Pain? Exhaustion? I felt shock, I felt intensity—but no, I didn’t feel pain. It was strange, but it felt completely natural. If I needed something, I simply took it. Qi was around me, within me. It never felt like a burden or a strain.

The Queen studied me for a long moment before a faint smile graced her lips—warm, yet touched with contemplation.

"Extraordinary…" she whispered. "So this is my child…"

She pulled me closer, wrapping me in soft, warm fabric. For the first time in this new life, I felt something akin to safety. Not just physical safety, but the indescribable feeling of being seen and accepted for who I was.

So this… was what it felt like to have a mother.

The warmth of her body, the steady rhythm of her breath, and the gentleness of her touch soothed me more than I was willing to admit. I had never known this before. I had never realized how much I needed it. There was nothing forced about it, nothing artificial—she was simply here, holding me, and that was enough.

My eyelids grew heavy. For the first time since my birth, I felt like I could rest. I surrendered to the sensation, letting the warmth and peace pull me into sleep.

At that same moment, in the grand audience chamber of the palace, the King sat upon his throne, his third son, Prince Vaelian, standing before him. The young man did not hide his irritation. His hands clenched into fists, his eyes burned with frustration.

"Why do you allow this, Father?" he growled, breaking the silence. "These sects test our limits again and again, and we merely wait! How much longer will we tolerate their audacity?"

The King did not move immediately. His dark eyes studied his son with a calm, measured gaze, as if weighing his words before speaking.

"Because they lack the courage to cross a certain line," he finally said, his voice quiet yet laden with authority. "They know that if they go too far… he will awaken."

Vaelian narrowed his eyes, his anger undiminished but now tinged with uncertainty.

"He?" he scoffed. "That old man who locked himself away centuries ago? What does it matter if he’s still here if he does nothing? If he wanted, he could wipe out these sects in an instant, yet he allows them to nip at our heels like starving dogs!"

The King’s gaze sharpened with cold severity.

"Because he no longer cares for this world," he replied evenly. "He will not interfere unless our very existence is threatened. As long as our family stands, he will not lift a hand. And all the sects know this. That is why they test us, provoke us… but they will not cross that thin line. Because they understand what it would mean."

At that moment, the doors to the audience chamber swung open, and General Kaelrith stepped inside. Despite the stern lines of his face, there was a gleam of excitement in his eyes.

"Your Majesty," he bowed before the King, then turned his gaze to Vaelian. "I have come as ordered."

The King looked at him with a faint smile.

"It is time to pay a visit to the Black Flame Sect and the Golden Dragon Brotherhood—to remind them who once held them at our feet."

The general’s lips curled into a grin as he flexed his fingers, as if already anticipating the battle ahead.

"Finally," General Kaelrith chuckled, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off rust. "It’s been far too long since I’ve had a proper warm-up. Let them learn that they have drawn courage from our patience for too long."

The King nodded in approval.

"Announce preparations for departure. Let everyone in the palace know—we are returning to the battlefield of this world."

The general grinned wider and struck his fist against his chest.

"As you command, Your Majesty."

Far from the palace, in a dimly lit chamber heavy with the scent of incense, two men sat across from each other at a low table. One was the leader of the Black Flame Sect, his robes so dark they seemed to swallow the very light around him. Opposite him sat the master of the Golden Dragon Brotherhood, his gilded robes reflecting the flickering glow of lanterns.

"The King is making his move," the first man murmured, rolling a small cup of tea between his fingers. His voice was calm, but in his eyes gleamed a flicker of satisfaction. "Just as we predicted."

"Of course, he is," the Golden Dragon master replied, a thin smirk curling at the edge of his lips. "We couldn't allow them to remain stagnant. We had to give them a reason to act."

A quiet moment passed between them, broken only by the faint crackling of burning incense.

"Gradual exhaustion," the Black Flame leader continued. "We force them to react, to expend their strength and resources. Every response they make is another step toward their downfall. The longer they fight… the weaker they become."

"Their younger generations are already weaker than ours," the Golden Dragon master added, his voice smooth but certain. "That lineage is doomed to fade. We are merely accelerating the process."

The Black Flame leader smirked coldly.

"And most importantly, we are proving to the rest that they can be challenged. The other sects are watching, waiting for the moment when the royal family truly exposes its weakness. Then, we will no longer have to act alone. This entire kingdom will collapse under its own weight."

The Golden Dragon master nodded, raising his cup to his lips.

"They are not the real problem," he said calmly. "He is. He always was, and he always will be. He is the reason the world still whispers their name with fear. Without him, their bloodline would have perished long ago."

Silence fell between them. Both men knew exactly who they were speaking of. A figure neither dared to name aloud.

"Do you truly believe he will not interfere?" the Black Flame leader asked, narrowing his eyes.

"He has not done so in over a century," his companion replied. "And if he does… then let this be our final test. If he remains passive, then the era of the royal bloodline has already reached its end."

Their gazes locked, the air in the chamber growing heavier.

"Then we proceed," the Black Flame leader said, setting his cup down on the table. "Until they no longer have the strength to lift their swords."