The sword came down—a blur of holy steel, swift as judgment, destined to sever Zephyr's neck.
But in the instant before it could land, his eyes snapped open, burning with a red glow that hadn't been there before.
He moved.
No one saw how—whether by instinct, willpower, or some force neither divine nor damned. The blade slammed into the marble execution block, splitting it in two. A shockwave cracked through the courtyard, sending the gathered crowd staggering back.
Gasps erupted.
Zephyr stumbled to his feet, still half-blind, still aching in every nerve, but breathing.
Alive.
The Royal guardians tensed. Pressure erupted into the air—like a tide crashing over the palace. Aether warped and screamed in unseen frequencies, all directed at one person— zephyr still staggering back suddenly felt pressure on his body.
Bam
His body hit the ground with force, shattering his ribs on impact, he immediately fainted but the body didn't seem to know the meaning of backing down, despite being unconscious the body begun to wiggle under the pressure, skin cracking releasing blood. The only sound was the sound of dripping blood.
Then, amidst the silence, a voice pierced the chaos.
"That's my son!"
A woman stepped forward, her black-and-red robes fluttering with each step, her face stained with the tears of someone who had already buried her child once. Her name was Seraphina Demios, the Matriarch of the Demios Clan—cold to most, feared by all.
But not today.
Today, she was just a mother.
She threw her arms around Zephyr, falling to her knees with him. Her Aether pulsed outward, cracked and brittle like shattered porcelain, yet still burning—still fighting to protect him. Aether bled from her like stardust laced with obsidian fire. Her cracked core flared in defiance, even though the strain could end her life.
"I'm tired," she whispered, cradling his face. "Tired of crying over my son. He was just a broken child… He didn't deserve this... none of it."
The silence was a frozen lake about to shatter.
Queen Avaria's eyes narrowed. Her aura surged—cold and imperial—but before she could speak, a sharp voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Hmph. Don't be fooled."
A woman in a deep crimson coat stepped forward, heels clicking sharply against the floor. Keede Demios—Seraphina's own younger sister. She was tall, severe, and merciless, an official Crownkin of their clan, and second only to the clan head.
"That's not your son anymore," Keede sneered. "That's an abomination. A failed bloodline mistake. A ghost brought back by some twisted force. He's Aetherless. And worse—he's been touched. I say we end him. Properly this time."
Whispers spread like wildfire.
But Seraphina did not move.
She bowed her head.
And she wept.
Not the fragile tears of weakness—but the sobs of a mother willing to bleed for her child. Willing to kneel before enemies, before snakes and traitors, just to see him breathe.
"Please," she said softly. "Please spare him. He died once. Isn't that enough? Just... let me keep my son."
The Royal family murmured. The people shifted uncomfortably. The Demios soldiers behind her clenched their fists, muscles taut, eyes red with rage. They were one command away from declaring open war on the royal family for making their matriarch kneel.
Then came a voice like thunder cracking through silence.
"Enough."
From the line of the Demios stood a tall young man—proud, grim, with black fire coiling behind his amber irises. His name was Ladarius Demios, Seraphina's firstborn. Zephyr's older brother. He stepped forward, tossing aside his ceremonial cloak.
"For our mother's sake... let him live."
He stared directly into the Queen's eyes, his voice like molten steel.
"He already paid the price for his foolish ness. You killed him once". Ladarius didn't speak out for the sake of his younger brother, but for the sake of his mother.
A moment passed. Then another.
And the royal family begun to murmur until one of the crownkin spoke out.
"How do we know he is not a riftsparm". His argument made sense, even Ladarius seemed taken a, it seems he didn't consider the question. The same crownkin spoke again.
"I suggest we use our clan method on him and read his memory". The world's rolled out of him mouth as natural as a snake spitting out poison. The people considered the question for a moment but clan Demios didn't seem kin on the idea. But the queen didn't need their permission.
"Go ahead and read his memory". She gave her order, her face filled with masked anger, the crownkin has got the message 'kill him and make it look like a mistake'. He confidently moved forward and moved into the circle of the clan Demios, he could hear the clenching of fists and swords, but he didn't care there were in there domain and clan Demios didn't have a root here. But he kept moving forward he started to become scared, everywhere he looked he saw red hairs and red eyes shining.
Demios clan were a clan filled with lust—bloodlust, despite them not willing their Arts the Birthmark on the back of their palm glowed red, releasing red particles of Aether into the air, combined with their red hair and red eyes, they looked like demons straight from the nine hells.
He tried to move forward and ignore the eyes, but the more he moved forward the more intense the eyes looked, the more particles released into the air, the more lust filled the air, lust for his blood. One wrong move and he was dead.
He stopped, not because he was in front of Zephyr— no far from him, but because he got scared. The crownkin who previously had been running his mouth stood frozen afraid to take a step forward, his body started to tremble like leaf left in a rain Storm. For a moment he considered going back but he thought of the humiliation he would receive, he knew that the clan were filled with vultures and one wrong move he would not only lose his title but his life as he was sure they would not leave behind someone who could take revenge against them.
After what seemed like an eternity he stood in front of Zephyr and activated his Art.
Zephyr's body convulsed. His already unconscious body begun to convulse as blood began seeping from the cracks on his skin.
And then, he screamed.
The sound tore through the courtyard like a soul being ripped apart.
The pressure in the air thickened. Zephyr's body, though unconscious, jerked slightly as the spell pressed inward. A single stream of memory pushed through the tether—