Chapter 40 – Shadows of a Forgotten War
In another city, far beyond the mountains and rivers that guarded Prince Kimo's kingdom, whispers danced through the streets like ghosts. These were not the whispers of gossip, nor the quiet plotting of politics, but the fearful murmurs of soldiers who once marched proudly to war… and returned broken.
They had once been called the strongest battalion of the east—undaunted, brutal, and disciplined. But the day they met Prince Kimo's forces, something changed. Something ancient and unnatural had emerged in the battlefield. And since that day, not a single man had spoken of what he saw.
Even now, months later, those who returned avoided mirrors, flinched at the rustle of wind, and startled at the sound of their own heartbeat. It was not just the prince they feared—it was the presence that came with him, a force that didn't belong in the world of mortals. The elders called it "the storm cloaked in flesh." And though no proof was ever found, rumors grew like fire in dry grass.
The generals of the foreign city had since burned the war records. They held secret meetings, their eyes twitching, their hands trembling. They all agreed: this was no ordinary kingdom. This was no ordinary prince. And though their lips were sealed, their nightmares screamed truths too cruel to accept.
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Back in the palace...
Prince Kimo stood at the edge of the highest tower, gazing into the sky with his icy blue eyes narrowed against the sunlight. The scars of battle still traced his mind, though not his skin.
He didn't care for the stories spreading across kingdoms. He didn't need the approval of the world. But there was something gnawing at him.
Oki.
She hadn't spoken much since they returned. She watched him too closely. Like she knew something was coming.
He turned from the tower and made his way down, the wind curling around him unnaturally. Servants bowed as he passed, but he didn't look at them. His mind was elsewhere.
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In the throne room, King Ryon dismissed the last of the councilmen. His hand trembled slightly as he poured wine, but he forced calm onto his face. Ever since he was saved from the mysterious captivity, he had been seeking redemption—in the eyes of his son, and in the shadows of Elira's memory.
His dreams were now haunted not by guilt alone, but by Elira's voice saying "He is not just your heir, he is your mirror. Save him, even if you cannot save yourself."
He looked at the sealed letter on his table—the one addressed to Prince Kimo. He hadn't yet found the courage to open it.
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Meanwhile, the queen stood before the magic mirror, her lips curved into a smile too sharp to be kind.
"So they fear him," she said to the reflection, "as they should."
The mirror swirled with mist and shimmered, revealing not the queen, but the ghostly face of Elira. Her golden eyes glowed with anger.
"You will not win," the spirit said in a voice that cracked the glass around the edges.
But the queen only laughed. "Still meddling, even in death? Your son walks dangerously close to becoming something he cannot control."
Elira's spirit narrowed her eyes. "And yet, he still has what you never will. A heart."
The queen's smile vanished.
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Later that night, Oki found Prince Kimo again in the moonlit garden. He had waited for her.
"I heard stories," he said softly. "Of those who fled the war. They spoke of creatures—monsters with human eyes. Was it… me?"
Oki didn't answer at first. She stepped closer, brushing her fingers against his hand.
"What you are," she said, "is not something to fear. But to understand."
"Then help me understand," Kimo said. "Because I'm tired of everyone hiding the truth."
Oki nodded. "Then it's time you saw everything."
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To be continued...