That night, a deep stillness wrapped itself around the palace like a heavy fog. The corridors were silent. The torches had burned low. Even the stars above Lumisgrave seemed to dim, as if the sky itself was holding its breath.
In the high chamber of stone and velvet, King Farhan lay in the shadowed hush of his royal bed, his breath slow, his crown set aside, and the weight of his chain-marked hand resting on his chest.
Sleep took him gently—without resistance. And then, from the depths of his slumber, a voice came.
Not loud.
Not cruel.
Just there.
Present.
Close.
A whisper — as if spoken beside his ear, though no one was near.
> "Prepare yourself…"
His brows furrowed slightly, but he did not wake.
> "Prepare your people…"
A tremble passed through his fingers.
The chains at his wrist stirred faintly.
> "The threat is coming."
The words didn't echo. They settled inside him — like stone dropped in still water. Not with fear, but with weight. With warning.
Then silence returned.
A silence colder than before.
He did not dream of places. He did not see faces. Only darkness… and those words, sinking deeper with every breath.
---
He Stirred
In his sleep, King Farhan's lips moved. No one heard them.
"Prepare…"
His grip tightened over his chest.
And the night went on — but something within him had changed.
Not from what he saw…
…but from what he heard..
The morning sun crept slowly over the rooftops of Lumisgrave, casting golden light through the palace windows. But for the royal chamber, there was no warmth in the air — only the cold residue of a restless night.
King Farhan stood already dressed in his deep-gray royal robe, the embroidered cuffs lined in silver. His back was to the window, and his left hand — the one forged of chain — remained hidden beneath a folded sleeve.
He did not eat. He did not speak to the servants. He had called for his Council before dawn.
Now they stood before him — Julious, tall and thoughtful as ever, his brow furrowed in concern; Rivers, the oldest of the group, silent with folded arms; Camero, alert but visibly tense; and Parche, his calm gaze flicking from face to face, reading the room like parchment.
Farhan took a long breath and faced them.
"I had a dream last night," he said.
The room stilled.
Julious stepped forward. "Another… vision, Your Majesty?"
"It was no vision," Farhan said. "There were no images. No signs. Only words. Spoken in darkness."
"What did it say?" asked Camero carefully.
Farhan's voice was steady. But something in it made every man stand straighter.
> "Prepare yourself," he said.
"Prepare your people."
"The threat is coming."
He let the words settle. No one dared speak for several seconds.
Rivers broke the silence. "You believe it was… real?"
Farhan nodded once. "It didn't feel like a warning from within. It wasn't fear, or my mind echoing yesterday's chaos. It felt like... a message. Spoken to me. Planted with purpose."
Julious's voice dropped. "From what source?"
"I do not know," Farhan answered calmly. "But the voice was not human. Not hostile… but not comforting either. It was cold. Focused. Certain."
Camero took a step forward. "Do you think this is connected to your hand? To the… transformation?"
Farhan slowly pulled back his left sleeve.
The chain-hand gleamed under the chamber's light. Silent. Heavy. Alive.
None of the leaders flinched — but none were unaffected.
"The message came after this," Farhan continued. "Not before. As if... once this change took place, something beyond decided I was ready to hear it."
"And you believe it speaks truth?" Parche asked, measured.
"I do."
"Then what do we do?" Julious asked, almost whispering.
Farhan looked at them — one by one.
> "We prepare."
"Quietly. Steadily. Without fear, and without making the people panic."
He stepped forward, voice low but commanding.
> "I want our watch doubled around the Gates. The Vaults. Even the Messenger Seals."
"Strengthen communication across every province."
"No rituals. No public speeches. But from this moment forward — we no longer wait."
There was silence again.
But now… it was filled with understanding.
Julious bowed his head. "As you command, Your Majesty."
And the others followed suit.
Farhan turned back to the window.
The sky looked clear.
But something beneath it was already shifting.
And he knew — the words from the dream had not been a request.
They were an order.