Chapter 3 The Choosing
News travels fast.
And by the time I arrived at the village square, it was as quiet as a graveyard. Not the peaceful kind—the kind that watched. Waited. Remembered.
Perhaps the cleaners and field workers had seen me being dragged along the ground like a slave and rushed ahead to spread the word.
The elders were already seated around the central clearing. At its heart stood the throne, and upon it sat my father—draped in a royal purple robe, his staff resting firmly in his grasp.
Darkness had descended. Torches burned along the perimeter, their flames swaying in the night air.
At the sight of the barbaric prince, the crowd parted, making way for the riders to pass.
All but one.
I lifted my head.
Darion Azara.
My best friend stood in the middle of the path, unmoving. His jaw was clenched, his eyes sunken and dark—hungry for blood.
The riders slowed.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Everyone knew Darion Azara. The finest swordsman in the village. The most dangerous man in close combat. Strip him of his vices—ale and women—and he was not someone anyone dared test.
No one spoke.
Gazes locked. Chests rose and fell.
For a moment, even time seemed to hesitate.
Then—
“Let them through.” My father’s voice cut through the silence, deep and absolute.
Darion didn’t move. Not at first. Then, slowly—reluctantly—he stepped aside. But not before his eyes found mine.
A slight nod.
And I understood. He was with me. Until the very end.
They dragged me forward to the foot of the podium before finally dismounting.
“I greet you, Chief Zevaris Aurelion—the Eye of the Seven Seas—and the people of Ashalon,” the prince declared, arms spread wide. “I am Prince Cassian Velentis, third of his name, son of Emperor Kael Velentis, ruler of all that kisses the sun.”
Silence answered him.
Then, slowly, my father rose.
All six feet five of him.
In all his glory.
Gold necklaces and bracelets chimed softly as he moved. His full silver beard and long straight hair framed a face carved from authority itself. His gaze flicked briefly to the woman at his right—my mother.
Her wide blue eyes and flushed face said everything words could not.
My father stepped forward, shoulders squared.
“What is this nonsense, Cassian?” His voice was calm—but dangerous. “You bind my son and drag him before me like a criminal. Do you have a death wish?”
“Forgive me, Chief Zevaris,” Cassian replied, though there was no remorse in his tone. “But you still speak to me as though I am the boy you met ten years ago… back when you still served at my father’s side.”
A shadow passed over my father’s face.
“Cassian Velentis, I did not expect this from you. Everyone in the empire knows you are like a son to me. Your father and I were brothers in all but blood. Why would you do such a thing?”
“Emperor Kael Velentis is dead,” Cassian snapped. “After you refused his call—twice. He lives on in me now. And I do not forget.”
A heavy silence fell.
My father exhaled slowly. “So this is vengeance?”
Cassian chuckled, pacing. “No. I came to enjoy your little festival.” His gaze flicked toward me. “Before your son decided to spill royal blood.”
Murmurs spread.
“He didn't just spill royal blood—he struck a prince. You know the law,” Cassian continued lightly. “His head… on a spike. Immediately.”
My mother sprang to her feet.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
My father raised a hand, silencing them. The quiet returned, thick and suffocating.
“Cassian,” he said carefully, “that is my only son. The sole heir to this seat. You know better than anyone how important this position is to the Empire.”
“Yes,” Cassian replied sharply. “Which makes your betrayal all the more interesting. You ignored my father’s call—and now my uncle sits as Regent in my place.”
“If you seek my support in reclaiming what is yours,” my father said, “there are better ways to ask. We can speak privately.”
Cassian’s smile sharpened.
“No. I want them all to see what happens to those who defy me.”
“That will not happen,” my mother cut in, stepping forward. “My son will not be executed in his own home. No one here is a slave—to the Empire or to you.”
Cassian turned to her slowly.
“Lady Hanah,” he said smoothly. “It has been a while. You’ve not visited the capital since your marriage. Tell me… do you no longer enjoy coming home?”
“Enzo will not die here,” she fired back. “Not by your command—”
My father raised a hand.
She stopped.
With a quiet nod, he dismissed her. Attendants quickly ushered her away, though her eyes never left me.
Only when she was gone did my father step down from the podium.
The air shifted with him.
When he stood before my captors, his gaze hardened.
“Untie him.”
They obeyed instantly.
The ropes fell away, and I collapsed at his feet.
“Father,” I rasped. “I was only trying to protect an arrow priestess.”
He didn’t look at me.
Didn’t move.
His eyes remained fixed on Cassian.
“If you do this,” Cassian said, his tone turning colder, “my uncle—the Regent—will descend upon this village. He has waited years for an excuse. Your son must pay… or this reaches the capital.”
“My son will not be beheaded here,” my father replied. “You will find another punishment. Anything else.”
Cassian stepped closer. “There is no ‘else,’ Zevaris. The Codex lists three rites for royal blood. Beheading. War. Or Trial by God.”
“There are precedents,” Zevaris said. “Fines. Exile.”
“Not for striking a prince. Not since the Skyfall Edict.” Cassian’s voice dropped. “Choose, old friend. Your son’s blood, or your people’s.”
Zevaris’s hand trembled once… then stilled.
“Anything else,” my father said.
Cassian’s smile thinned. “The Codex is clear. A chief’s son may claim Trial by God on holy ground. Your son invoked it.”
A wave of unrest surged through the crowd.
“You want him sent to the Cave of the Skygods—where bones were never found… only echoes?” Zevaris asked, his voice tightening.
“The law is the law,” Cassian said. “Even for me.”
“No.” Zevaris shook his head. “Come now, Cassian. Even you are not that cruel. Enzo is like a brother to you.”
Cassian’s expression darkened.
“My father was more than a brother to you… wasn’t he? He died calling for you. Twice.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Final.
I felt it then—the shift. My father had been cornered. There was no choice here. Only consequences. War… or sacrifice.
I looked at my father, his fists clenched. Released. Then clenched again. That was answer enough. I let my gaze pass over the villagers—faces I had known all my life—then to the throne behind him.
Hope. Expectation.
And in that moment, I understood. This had never been about me. I pushed myself to my feet, and faced my father.
It was never a choice.
Not for me.
The Cave of the Skygods. The place no one returned from. The place I had been trying to reach for six years… without knowing why. This wasn’t a sentence. It was an answer.
“I will do it.” I declared.
My father flinched.
The crowd erupted.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Cassian. He didn't react immediately. He simply watched me… as though measuring something unseen. The dragon on his breastplate seemed to watch me too.
I turned to him. “I chose this. But if not this… then what?”
Cassian didn’t answer immediately. His eyes lingered on me—longer than they should have. Not with anger. With interest.
“War,” he said simply. No weight. Just facts. “The destruction of your village. Or I take you to the capital—where your death will be… more dignified.”
The murmurs grew louder.
I turned back to my father.
His eyes met mine.
Glassy.
Proud.
Breaking.
I took his hand and pressed my lips against it.
“My Chief,” I said.
He looked away.
He couldn’t face me—couldn’t bear to see what he had allowed.
“Father,” I said quietly, “I will return.”
He shook his head as though I had spoken madness. Perhaps I had. Because no one had ever returned from the Cave.
It was said the Skygods did not kill. They chose. And no one—chosen or not—ever returned. No bodies were ever found. Only silence—and sometimes… lights beneath the mountain.
Good.
I wasn’t going there to survive.
I was going there to find the truth.
