The morning after the lantern spark, Lumisgrave awakened to an atmosphere it hadn't felt in weeks.
Not fear.
Not confusion.
Focus.
News of Prince Kabir's lightning spark had spread through the palace like a wind through dry leaves. Servants whispered it in the kitchens. Scribes wrote it into scrolls without needing orders. And in the outer wards, guards passed the message without knowing how it had even reached them.
> "The prince controls lightning."
"The King's son lit a lamp with power."
"It didn't harm anyone. It just… worked."
Hope — small, flickering, and fragile — had returned to the people.
And inside the royal chamber, King Farhan stood with his back to the Council, facing the tall window that overlooked the grand plaza of Lumisgrave.
Below, thousands gathered. Awakened and Dormants alike.
Mothers. Miners. Farmers. Scholars. Children. Some with power pulsing beneath their skin. Others still untouched, still waiting.
Julious stepped forward. "They're all here. Waiting for your words."
The King nodded.
His face was calm.
But inside, he felt the weight of history ready to lean forward and listen.
> "Then I will speak," he said quietly. "Not as a ruler. But as a man… who has changed."
--
The palace balcony had never felt so high.
King Farhan stepped out slowly, dressed in royal silver robes, the wind brushing his dark cloak aside. His eyes scanned the plaza — the vast crowd that seemed to hold its breath.
He raised his hand gently, and silence followed like a curtain falling.
Then, he spoke — not through a scroll, not from a scribe — but from his heart.
> "My people… for weeks, you have lived in a storm of uncertainty."
> "You have seen power bloom around you — strange, unpredictable, sometimes frightening."
> "And the question on every lip has been the same: What do we do now?"
He let the words hang, then continued.
> "I, too, have asked that question."
> "I too… have changed."
He slowly raised his left sleeve before thousands of eyes.
And then — the transformation began.
The air around his hand shimmered. A soft rattling echoed outward — metal against air — as his flesh slowly turned black and silver. Links appeared. Joints became chain. Fingers gleamed like ancient keys.
Gasps. Awe. Silence.
Farhan held the chain-hand in the air for all to see.
> "This hand came to me when I collapsed during the early awakenings."
> "I did not understand it. I feared it. But I listened to it."
Then, with a slow exhale, he closed his eyes — and the chains began to unravel softly. Link by link, the metal slid backward into his arm, melting into skin.
In seconds, his human hand returned.
The crowd did not cheer.
They did not cry.
They stood still — moved not by spectacle, but by meaning.
> "This power, like yours, did not come with instruction," the King said.
"It came with purpose. A purpose I could not see… until now."
He turned slightly — and with a proud nod, beckoned someone forward from behind the curtain.
Prince Kabir stepped onto the balcony.
Young. Humble. Barefoot.
His long black hair was tied back, and he held no sword, no armor — only courage.
He looked to his father. The King gave a single nod.
Kabir took a deep breath and lifted his hand toward a small torch that had been intentionally left unlit beside the archway.
> "Control," the King said aloud, "is not about power over others… but power over yourself."
Kabir's hand sparked — blue lightning arced forward, clean and precise — and the torch ignited instantly.
The flames flickered.
The people watched.
Then, the King spoke again.
---
> "This is how we prepare."
"Not with fear. Not with silence. But with practice. With patience. With understanding."
"You have awakened not to destroy the world — but to shape it."
"Each of you must now listen to what flows within you."
"Find it. Face it. Learn it."
He pointed gently to Kabir.
> "Even a young boy… has begun to control lightning. That means anyone can begin to learn."
He paused, and his voice grew softer — not just a King speaking now, but a father to a people in pain.
> "I do not have all the answers. No leader does."
"But I will walk this path with you."
> "And from this day on, Lumisgrave will not hide its gifted."
"We will guide them."
> "We will prepare — not for war, not for destruction — but for the day when we must stand… together."
---
The Crowd Responds
Stillness.
Then hands slowly raised — not in protest, but in quiet agreement.
Some with palms glowing.
Some with eyes glimmering.
Some with nothing at all — but hope.
The people began to murmur. Not with fear, but with determination.
> "We can learn…"
"We can prepare…"
"I want to try…"
"If the prince can do it…"
"So can I."
And in that moment, Lumisgrave did not feel broken.
It felt reborn.