Brotherly Time

After the emotional reunion, the boys found themselves warmly embraced within the grandeur of the castle by none other than the queen herself. Her presence exuded a regal grace that seemed to envelop them in a sense of security and belonging.

Asiris, still grappling with the weight of recent events, found himself summoned to a meeting with Commander Just. This discussion held within the esteemed presence of the king and queen conveyed the gravity of the situation at hand. The very air in the room seemed to hum with urgency as they delved into matters of great importance.

Asiris awoke the next morning, his mind still heavy with the events of the previous day. With a weary sigh, he stared up at the ornate ceiling, contemplating the path ahead. The enormity of the challenges they faced weighed heavily on his mind, and he knew that difficult decisions lay ahead.

The moment they had all been waiting for had finally arrived—the boys had made it to the castle. Asiris, feeling a mixture of excitement and apprehension, weakly rose from his bed, his thoughts consumed by what lay ahead.

With each step, he contemplated the journey that had brought them here, the obstacles they had overcome, and the sacrifices that had been made. His eyes fell upon a pair of slippers lying invitingly on the floor, and a faint smile tugged at his lips.

"Perhaps I could use these for my day off," he mused softly to himself, indulging in the simple comfort they offered.

As he slid his feet into the warm embrace of the fuzzy fabric, he felt a sense of relaxation wash over him. Standing upright, he stretched, feeling the tension in his muscles begin to ebb away.

Stepping out into the hallway, he was greeted by an unexpected presence—Commander Just, looking every bit as serious and imposing as ever.

"Hey—Just!" Asiris exclaimed, a note of sarcasm in his voice, though tempered by genuine affection.

Commander Just, clearly unamused by the sudden startle, wasted no time in getting to the point. "I wish I could've met with you under different circumstances, but the king has urgent matters to discuss."

"Urgent matters?" Asiris echoed, his curiosity piqued.

"Yes, he's requesting your assistance," Commander Just replied, his tone grave. "And don't worry about changing out of your slippers."

With that, Commander Just turned and began to make his way down the hallway, leaving Asiris to grapple with a whirlwind of emotions and questions.

Quickly deciding to follow, Asiris allowed his determination to propel him forward. "Why the rush?" he called out, falling into step beside Commander Just.

"Do you wish to keep the king waiting?" Commander Just retorted, his tone clipped.

"No, sir," Asiris assured him, his mind racing. "I only wish for this matter to be resolved swiftly."

"Well, how about you wait until you meet the king?" Commander Just suggested, increasing his pace.

Asiris quickened his steps to keep up, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Well, how about you tell me now?" he pressed, halting Commander Just in his tracks.

Looking down, he noticed that Commander Just was still dressed in his war outfit, a stark contrast to Asiris' own attire. "Just," he exclaimed, gesturing to the pajamas he was wearing. "What happened to my outfit?"

Commander Just chuckled, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You think you're going to enter the castle in your pajamas? Let's be sensible."

With a shake of his head, he began to walk past Asiris, who turned to follow him, annoyance flickering across his features.

Together, they proceeded into the castle, making their way through the ornate halls until they eventually encountered the king.

Seated upon his throne, the king exuded an aura of quiet authority, his gaze fixed upon some distant point as he lost himself in thought.

Upon noticing Asiris and Commander Just standing before him, he roused himself from his reverie, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Your Majesty," they both greeted, bowing respectfully.

The king chuckled softly, waving away their formalities. "Forget about the bowing," he said with a dismissive gesture. "Just, you can go now."

Commander Just nodded and promptly exited the palace, leaving Asiris alone in the presence of the king.

Confused but eager to hear the king's request, Asiris looked up at him expectantly. "What can I do for you, Your Heatherness?" he inquired, his tone respectful.

The king regarded him with a knowing look, his expression unreadable. "You wish to know what I'm asking of you?" he replied, his voice calm and measured. "Well, here it is: I ask you, Asiris, the general of the army."

Asiris felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation coursing through him. He waited with bated breath as the king paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

"I want you to train my son, Micah," the king finally declared, his words hanging in the air like a weighty decree.

Preview:

Peter sighed deeply, nerves palpable as he looked upon the playground.

He knew he had to face it, despite the anxiety building within him.

His heart raced as he hesitantly approached the gathering.

Four men in red armored-suits and a girl in a puffy dress were seated at a table.

Perhaps he could make a friendly introduction; maybe he would find some allies.

After all, he was a prince.

He slowly approached the table, finding himself faced with men whose expressions were stern and bold. "Who are you?" one of them asked.

He had scruffy brown hair and dark brown eyes, a countenance that didn't seem to intimidate Peter. Another man chimed in, "He's the king's son, the one who returned yesterday."

"Is that so?" the man pondered, offering a sudden smile as he handed out cards. "I find that almost unbelievable." Peter shrugged dumbly, immediately regretting his response. "He's not even sure himself," the explainer added.

"It's not like he knew this his whole life," a girl chimed in. The man scoffed, "Well, he should remain that way."

Peter felt a deep discomfort, prompting him to slowly distance himself from the table.

He gazed at the swings, memories sparking within his mind. Memories of him and Micah swinging, chatting as if the swings were a part of their conversation. The memories evoked tears, causing Peter to quickly wipe them away, attempting to come to terms with reality. Before he could blink, a red-haired girl with freckles approached.

"Are you okay?"