The Celestial Citadel was too beautiful to trust.
Aarav stood on the arrival platform, looking across the floating city suspended above endless clouds. Crystal bridges connected towering palaces of white stone and black silver. Waterfalls poured from the edges of islands into the sky below, disappearing into mist.
Golden birds circled above the palace spires.
Ancient dragons slept around distant mountain peaks, floating in the heavens.
Everything looked divine.
Perfect.
And that made it dangerous.
Because places built on lies were always beautiful from far away.
Kael's voice echoed quietly in his mind.
"The first rulers wanted the Citadel to look like heaven."
Aarav's gaze remained fixed ahead.
"And what is it really?"
Seraphine answered from the shadows beside him.
"A throne room built over graves."
That sounded more honest.
Ahead, Lord Regent Alistair led the heirs through the main crystal bridge toward the central palace.
Royal guards lined both sides in absolute silence.
Their armour carried the crest of the Summit—a crown surrounded by seven stars.
Not one of the Seven Houses.
Something older.
Something above them.
Lyra walked at Aarav's left.
Kaiden is at his right, hands in his pockets, looking far too relaxed.
Riyan Solaris was already glaring at everyone.
Cassian Solaris smiled at nothing.
A dangerous group.
Perfect.
As they crossed the bridge, Aarav noticed something strange.
At the centre of the bridge floor were ancient carvings.
Battle scenes.
Kings kneeling.
A black crown broken in half.
His steps slowed.
Umbra.
Kael noticed too.
"They left your bloodline here."
"Not to honour it."
"To remind themselves."
Aarav's eyes darkened.
"Then I'll help them remember properly."
Kaiden smirked beside him.
"You talk to yourself often?"
Aarav didn't even look at him.
"Only when the company is disappointing."
Kaiden laughed.
Lyra sighed.
Riyan looked offended somehow.
Cassian simply observed.
Always observing.
The central palace doors opened.
And silence followed.
The Hall of Legacy was enormous.
Pillars of white crystal rose toward a ceiling painted with the history of the Seven Houses.
At the far end stood seven thrones arranged in a circle.
Six were occupied.
One remained empty.
Broken.
Covered by a black cloth.
The Umbra throne.
Even from across the hall, Aarav felt it.
His bloodline reacted instantly.
The crest on his chest burnt.
The Royal Signet Ring glowed faintly.
Several of the seated rulers noticed.
Interesting.
Lord Regent Alistair stopped at the centre.
"The heirs have arrived."
His voice echoed through the chamber.
One by one, the rulers studied them.
The Lady of Frostveil—cold and pale as winter itself.
The Beast Lord of Verdantis is covered in green-gold armour.
The Ironclad Duke—silent and heavy like a mountain.
The Queen of Bloodmoon—elegant, unreadable.
The Lord of Stormborn—eyes like thunder.
And finally—
The King of Solaris.
Golden robes.
Calm smile.
Danger hidden beneath sunlight.
Beside him sat an older man dressed in crimson and black.
Not introduced.
Not announced.
But his presence was heavier than all of them.
Aarav knew instantly.
The true head of Solaris.
The monster behind the smile.
That man looked directly at him.
And smiled.
A cold, ancient smile.
Kael's voice turned sharp.
"Malachar Solaris."
Even Seraphine's expression hardened.
"He was there the night Umbra fell."
Aarav's heartbeat slowed.
Alive for five hundred years?
No.
Something worse.
The old man spoke first.
"So."
His voice was smooth.
"The shadow child lives."
The entire hall became colder.
Aarav stepped forward.
He did not bow.
He did not lower his eyes.
"I'm not a child."
A dangerous silence followed.
Riyan looked like he wanted to die on behalf of everyone.
Kaiden looked entertained.
Lyra quietly prepared for disaster.
Then—
Malachar laughed.
Softly.
"Good."
His eyes gleamed.
"Orion's blood truly survived."
The Solaris King quickly interrupted.
"The summit begins with peace, Elder."
Peace.
A word no one believed.
Lord Regent Alistair raised his staff.
"The first trial shall begin tonight."
He looked toward the heirs.
"The Banquet of Masks."
Riyan frowned.
"That sounds ridiculous."
Kaiden muttered,
"So does your personality."
Lyra almost smiled again.
Alistair ignored them.
"At the banquet, every heir will wear a ceremonial mask."
"No names."
"No titles."
"Only choices."
Cassian finally spoke.
"A political trial."
Alistair nodded.
"Correct."
"You must form temporary alliances before the second trial."
"Who you trust tonight may decide whether you survive tomorrow."
That made more sense.
And made it worse.
Aarav hated parties already.
Now he had to survive one strategically.
Wonderful.
The rulers rose.
As they did, the Queen of Bloodmoon's gaze briefly met Lyra's.
Something silent passed between mother and daughter.
Tension.
Warning.
Regret.
Then it was gone.
The rulers left one by one.
But Malachar Solaris paused near Aarav.
Close enough for only him to hear.
His voice dropped.
"I watched your father die."
Aarav's entire body went still.
Malachar smiled.
"He screamed less than I expected."
The shadows around Aarav's feet exploded.
Nightfall almost moved on instinct.
But Kael's voice thundered inside him.
Not here.
Seraphine's presence steadied him.
Aarav forced himself still.
His voice came out colder than ice.
"When I kill you…"
Even Malachar's smile faded slightly.
Aarav stepped closer.
"I'll make sure you remember his name first."
For the first time—
Real interest appeared in the old monster's eyes.
Then he walked away.
Slowly.
Calmly.
As if discussing murder over tea.
Lyra reached Aarav seconds later.
Her voice was low.
"What did he say?"
Aarav looked toward the empty Umbra throne.
The black cloth covering it.
The insult.
The history.
The promise.
Then he answered.
"He reminded me why I'm here."
Kaiden joined them, stretching lazily.
"So."
He looked around the massive hall.
"Political banquet tonight."
"Secret alliances."
"Ancient psychos."
He smirked.
"I'm starting to like this place."
Riyan groaned somewhere nearby.
Cassian smiled from a distance.
And high above the palace, behind divine chains and forgotten seals—
That crimson eye opened wider.
Watching.
Waiting.
Recognising.
The bloodline of Umbra had stepped into the throne room again.
And this time—
The shadows were not leaving quietly.