Chapter Text
Chapter 0: The Prophecy
"In the age when the Iron Kingdom claws at the veil,
seeking dominion through powers long forbidden,
the earth shall whisper warnings, and shadows shall lengthen across the land.
For the Iron of the north shall stir dark forces,
tapping into wells never meant for mortal hands,
awakening that which slumbers beneath the world.
In that time of encroaching dusk,
from a line of honor shall rise the Wind,
a knight shaped by duty,
whose spirit moves unseen yet turns the fate of kingdoms.
And near him shall bloom the Rose,
ever bright against consuming night,
her courage the beacon that guides the Wind,
her love the anchor in his deepest darkness.
Together they shall face the tide of iron and shadow,
their bond a flame defying the gloom,
yet the darkness they challenge is born of ancient sins,
and its hunger knows no mercy.
Whether the Wind shall rise to cleanse the storm,
or be swallowed by the abyss the Iron has unleashed…
the prophecy speaks no certainty,
for the threads of fate waver in the hands of heroes."
Chapter Text
ACT 1: The Quiet Beginnings
Chapter 1: The Hedgehog Estate
Sonic’s wooden sword hit Jules’s with a sharp crack that echoed across the yard.
The impact shuddered all the way up his arms. His fingers stung, his shoulders burned, and sweat clung to the blue quills at the back of his neck. He gritted his teeth and pushed harder, trying to break through the guard in front of him.
Jules didn’t even budge.
The older hedgehog stood firm, boots planted in the packed dirt, posture relaxed. His sword arm barely trembled under the strain of Sonic’s full weight. He watched his son over the length of their crossed blades, his eyes clear, calm, and measuring every movement between them.
“Better,” Jules said quietly. “Again.”
Sonic huffed, lungs already tight. He broke away with a grunt, stumbling back a few steps, almost tripping over his own feet before he caught himself. The evening sun hung low over the fields, turning the estate’s stone walls gold and casting long shadows across the training yard. Dust floated in the air, stirred by their movements, sparkling in the fading light.
He sucked in a breath, adjusted his grip on the wooden hilt, and sprang forward.
Feet light, shoulders low. Just like Dad taught him.
Jules lifted his own practice blade to meet him. Sonic feinted for the left, twisted to the right, then snapped upward in a rising strike. For a heartbeat Jules felt the angle of that blow and the speed behind it.
He had to actually move.
Their swords met again with a sharp thwack, louder than the previous attack this time. Sonic’s momentum carried him around, and he let it, spinning with the impact and turning it into a second swing. Faster. He could feel the rhythm, the rush in his blood. He stepped into it, not away from it.
To anyone watching from the balcony windows or the nearby field, it might have looked like a dance. A blur of blue and brown wood, feet scuffing dirt, the soft hiss of cloth, the bite of colliding practice blades.
To Sonic, it was like trying to strike a mountain.
Jules parried each blow with infuriating ease, barely shifting his footing. He let Sonic come at him from every angle whether it was high, low, right, left and turned aside each attack with the same smooth fluid movement from years of training. His face stayed relaxed, jaw unclenched, eyes alert but never strained.
But behind that calm, something else flickered.
He’s faster again, Jules thought, tracking the blur of his son’s hands. That pivot he used, he didn’t have that last year. Not like that. And that last step…
He watched Sonic’s feet. The boy’s strides were longer now, sharper. He was no longer just rushing forward without thought now he was placing himself, feeling the distances by instinct.
A light breeze rolled in from the distant fields, carrying the smell of evening grass and the faint murmur of the city beyond their land. It brushed past Sonic’s face, cooling the sweat gathered at his brow. Dust swirled around his shoes as he lunged again, skirts of loose training clothes flaring around his legs.
His chest already ached from his lungs. His arms burned from the countless attacks he threw. But he couldn’t stop, not now.
“Come on,” he muttered under his breath, pushing off from the dirt so hard his foot dug a small trench. “Just once…”
He aimed for Jules’s shoulder this time, then twisted the cut at the last second toward his wrist. A trick he’d only just started trying, something he’d seen one of the older knights do during drills.
Jules’s blade snapped down to meet it.
Crack.
The force rattled up Sonic’s wrists. For a fraction of a second, he lost his grip. The sword wobbled.
“Don’t lose your weapon,” Jules said, not unkindly.
Sonic bit the inside of his cheek, face flushing deeper beneath his fur. “I know,” he gasped. “I know, I—”
Jules came at him this time.
With not a single warning or cue. Just a smooth, controlled step forward and a clean horizontal strike aimed for Sonic’s side.
Sonic barely got his sword up in time.
The impact shoved him back two full steps. His heel skidded as he had to twist his hips to keep from falling. Before he could reset, Jules was already there again, pressing, testing.
“Footwork!” Jules called. “Eyes up! Don’t stare at the blade, watch the shoulders!”
Sonic forced his gaze higher, watching the way his father’s weight shifted under each motion. The way his shoulders rolled a fraction of a second before the sword followed. The clues were there, his dad had told him a hundred times about it but seeing them and reacting in time were completely different things.
They traded a rapid series of blows. To Sonic, it felt like trying to catch raindrops with his bare hands. Every time he thought he’d managed to read the angle, Jules would change it at the last breath, forcing Sonic to compensate, to stumble, to scramble.
But in the scrambling, Jules saw something again.
There his son recovered from a bad angle faster than he should have. That correction was becoming too natural for a twelve-year-old. There wasn’t an awkward lag or overcorrection in his form. Just a grimace, a shift, and he was back in guard.
Jules pushed a little harder, increasing the pace without saying so. His own strikes flowed faster, more complex, testing Sonic’s ability to track them. The clack of wood on wood sped up, filling the yard with a drumbeat of impacts.
Sonic’s heart hammered in his chest. The wooden sword felt heavier with each passing second, as if someone was quietly adding weight every time he swung it.
But still he matched the rhythm.
His feet knew the pattern of this yard. He could feel every bump in the ground, every dip, every loose stone. He turned on them, used them, let them slingshot him forward or back. His body moved before his mind finished deciding.
He ducked under a horizontal strike and darted in close, wood blade snapping upward toward Jules’s ribs.
For the first time that evening, Jules had to pivot sharply, not just move now.
He grinned despite himself.
“That’s new,” he said.
Sonic didn’t have the breath to respond. He just pressed forward, eyes narrowed, lips parted as he panted, sweat dripping down the sides of his face. Every muscle trembled, but he kept moving, kept attacking. Kept trying.
The boy’s arms were still lean, more child than adult, but there was a surprising strength behind them now. Years of training, of being handed a sword that once was too big for him, too heavy, had carved something sharp in him.
He remembered the first time he’d put a wooden blade in Sonic’s hand. The boy had been what seven? Eight? The sword had nearly dragged along the ground, his grip tiny and clumsy. His swings had been wild, all enthusiasm and with no form.
Now at twelve, that raw speed had been shaping up for the growing boy.
Jules eased off for a heartbeat, letting Sonic set the tempo. The boy lunged, twisted, slid back, then came in from a new angle. Jules watched, analyzing silently.
His footwork has length. His hips are turning properly now. That last cut would break an untrained man’s guard. At twelve…
It was exhilarating and yet was terrifying all at once.
“That all you’ve got?” Jules asked in a light taunt.
Sonic glared up at him, cheeks burning pink beneath the sweat. “N-No,” he rasped. “One more.”
Jules opened his mouth to say they could stop there. They’d already gone longer than usual. The sun was dipping, and Aleena would be calling them soon. The boy’s body needed rest as much as it needed strain.
But when he saw Sonic’s eyes as the last bits of golden hour settled it showed the determination and fierceness within those emerald eyes.
Just like mine were he thought.
“Alright,” Jules said, flipping his sword back into guard. “One more. Make it count.”
Sonic swallowed, nodding once. He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, drawing in a slow breath. The wind slid along his arms, cooling the fine tremor in his muscles, tickling his quills.
When he opened his eyes again, he moved.
No hesitation this time. No rushing forward half-cocked. He stepped in with purpose, as if his body had finally synced with something invisible, some rhythm only he could hear in his mind. His first strike came from the side, not forward. Jules met it, but Sonic was already moving, turning the deflected force into a follow-up cut aimed low, then high.
Jules had to work.
He shifted his weight, redirecting, turning aside the blows with genuine focus. The gap between them was still enormous years of experience and battle and scars lay on one side of the yard only but for a handful of heartbeats, the boy made him move like he meant it.
The last swing came in a brown blur, Sonic stepping off the center line the way he’d only just started to learn, cutting in from an unexpected angle. Jules’s blade dropped to catch it. Wood slammed against wood with a loud crack, and this time the force of the impact drove both of them a half-step back.
Silence fell for a moment. Just the evening wind and Sonic’s ragged breathing.
Sonic’s arms dropped, his sword hanging at his side. His chest heaved as he tried collecting air for his lungs. His vision wobbled slightly at the edges trying to regain its focus.
Jules let his own practice blade lower. He rolled his shoulder once, feeling the faint ache of that last clash.
Then he smiled.
“That,” he said, “was worthy of a bow, young knight.”
Sonic blinked up at him, dazed. “Was… was it good?”
Jules stepped forward and rested his free hand on Sonic’s head, fingers ruffling between the damp quills.
“It was better than I had any right to expect from a twelve-year-old,” he said quietly. “You’ve come a long way from the boy who could barely lift these wooden swords.”
Sonic’s face lit up despite his exhaustion. His knees trembled under him, but pride straightened his spine.
If he’s already like this now… What will he be at sixteen? Seventeen?
And will the world give him time to grow into it… or demand too much, too soon?
Another breeze passed through the yard, tugging at the hem of Jules’s tunic and cooling the sweat on Sonic’s face. The sky above them was deepening into richer shades of blue and purple as the first stars prickling through the dimming blue.
Jules squeezed his son’s shoulder once.
Good work,” he said. “That’s enough for today. We’ll clean up the yard in a moment.”
Sonic leaned on his sword for a second, dragging in air, the glow of his father’s praise warming him more than the setting sun ever could.
He straightened slowly, wiping his forearm across his brow. Sweat slicked his gloves, dampened the collar of his tunic, and clung stubbornly to the quills at the back of his neck. His arms trembled from the aftershock of pushing himself past what he thought he could manage. He rolled his shoulders once, then again, trying to shake out the ache.
Jules watched him with quiet satisfaction, then finally lowered his own practice blade and planted its tip into the dirt. The wind had settled into something gentler now, a soft evening breath that carried the distant sounds of Kingdom of Rosalia with the bells chiming signaling the time of six o’clock.
That was when the door creaked open from the estate.
“Sonic. Jules.”
Aleena’s voice drifted across the yard, warm and familiar. She stood framed in the doorway, the glow of the house lanterns spilling out behind her. Her arms were folded loosely over her chest, posture relaxed, eyes bright with fond amusement as she took in the scene of her husband and son standing flushed and winded.
“Inside,” she said. “The both of you. Supper’s nearly ready, and I will not have dirt tracked across my floors again.”
Jules grinned, utterly unrepentant. “We were just finishing.”
He took two steps toward her, sword already forgotten, arms opening with exaggerated intent. “Surely a knight returning victorious from battle deserves a proper greeting from his lady.”
Aleena lifted a brow. “Victorious?” she asked dryly. “You smell like you wrestled a boar.”
“Details, details” Jules said, undeterred. He leaned in anyway.
Aleena laughed and dodged just enough that his lips brushed her cheek instead of finding their mark. “Absolutely not. You’re covered in sweat and dust.”
“Just one,” he pleaded, lowering his voice theatrically. “For morale.”
She sighed, the sound long-suffering but fond, and shook her head. “You are impossible mister.”
But she leaned forward anyway, cupping his face and giving him a brief, gentle kiss—quick enough to deny him any real victory, but affectionate enough to make her intent unmistakable.
Sonic made a strangled noise.
“Ugh,” he groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “That’s gross.”
Jules laughed outright, the sound warm and unguarded. “Careful, son,” he said, glancing down at Sonic with a teasing glint in his eye. “You’ll understand one day.”
Sonic flushed deeper, ears flattening as he turned away. “No, I won’t.”
Aleena smiled at both of them before stepping aside to let them in. “Bathroom,” she said firmly. “Both of you, and Sonic—”
“I know, I know” Sonic muttered. “Wash my hands.”
“Properly this time,” she added.
Sonia’s voice floated in from the dining room. “With soap dear brother,” she chimed in.
Sonic shot her an indignant look over his shoulder. Sonia stood at the long wooden table, sleeves rolled neatly to her elbows as she arranged dinner with careful precision. Her fuchsia-pink quills were tied back, keeping them well clear of her face as she worked. She had a ladle in one hand and was transferring stew from a heavy pot into bowls with practiced ease.
Fresh bread sat cooling on a cloth nearby, its crust golden and cracked just enough to release the comforting scent of baked grain. A simple salad of greens, sliced root vegetables, a light drizzle of oil waited in a wooden bowl at the center of the table.
Sonia glanced up just long enough to meet Sonic’s eyes, then smiled sweetly. “And don’t forget between your fingers,” she added.
Sonic scowled. “Traitor.”
She laughed softly and returned to her work.
The inside of the house was warm, the stone walls holding onto the day’s heat. Jules scrubbed his hands at the basin, humming under his breath, while Sonic attacked the soap like it had personally offended him. Water splashed against the basin as he rinsed, then rinsed again under his mother’s watchful eye.
Aleena nodded once, satisfied. “Good. Now go on.”
Sonic padded down the hall toward the dining room, arms still feeling pleasantly heavy from training. As he entered, his gaze immediately snagged on the figure hunched over a side table near the window.
His other sibling Manic was sat cross-legged on a stool that was slightly too tall for him, green quills catching the lantern light as he leaned in close to whatever he was working on. Bits of scrap metal littered the tabletop that consisted of small gears, bent wire, bits of leather cord. His fingers moved quickly as he adjusted something with careful focus.
“Hey,” Sonic said, with his curiosity immediately piqued. “What’re you doing?”
Manic looked up, eyes lighting instantly. “Perfect timing.”
He hopped off the stool and held up his creation with both hands like a trophy.
It was a slingshot at least, that was what it looked like at first glance. But it was heavier than any slingshot Sonic had ever seen, its wooden frame reinforced with metal braces scavenged from who-knew-where. A pair of small gears sat embedded near the base, connected to a tension mechanism that looked… complicated.
“I made it stronger,” Manic said proudly. “See? The gears help pull the band back farther before it snaps forward. Makes it go faster and farther.”
Sonic leaned in, inspecting it. “How long it take you make this?”
Manic thought for a moment. “About an hour or so.”
Jules entered the room just then, towel slung over his shoulder. He took one look at the slingshot and sighed in a way that suggested he’d seen many versions of this moment before.
“What have you built now?” he asked.
Manic straightened, holding the slingshot up higher. “It’s not finished yet,” he said quickly. “I just need to—”
Jules reached out and gently took it from his hands, turning it over, examining the gears and tension band with a practiced eye. “You’ve reinforced the stress points,” he noted. “Smart.”
Manic beamed.
“And added enough force to put an eye out at fifty paces,” Jules continued mildly.
Manic winced. “I was gonna test it with rocks first.”
“I should hope so.” Jules handed it back and ruffled Manic’s green quills, smiling. “Try not to build too much trouble before dinner, hm?”
“No promises,” Manic said cheerfully.
Jules shook his head with a soft chuckle, the kind that came easy in this house, then nodded toward the dining room. “Alright,” he said, voice taking on that gentle firmness that meant now. “Everyone to the table before the stew loses its heat.”
The transition from the side table to the dinner table was as familiar as breathing with chairs scraping lightly against the wooden floor, the clink of utensils, the quiet rhythm of a family settling in together. The dining room was modest for a noble estate but warm in the way that mattered only to them. There in the middle stood a long wooden table worn smooth from years of hands and elbows, a hearth that still held a faint glow from earlier in the day and the lanterns light reflecting off polished plates and the soft sheen of freshly baked bread.
Aleena moved with practiced ease, setting the final bowls down. The smell was comforting of that rich stew with herbs and root vegetables, slow-cooked meat that fell apart with the slightest pressure, and that deep, savory warmth that made the whole house feel like it had a heartbeat of its own.
Manic hovered for a second beside the chair closest to the side table, glancing back at his slingshot. Aleena caught the look and pointed two fingers at him in warning.
“Dinner,” she said, and there was no mistaking the smile behind the command. “Your contraption can wait.”
“It’s not a contraption,” Manic protested, sliding into his chair. “It’s a—”
“A disaster waiting to happen,” Sonia supplied sweetly, setting down a small bowl of greens and sliced vegetables dressed lightly in oil and herbs. “And Mother would like the ceiling to remain intact.”
Manic opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it when Aleena arched a brow at him. He settled for pulling a face at Sonia, who returned it with a calm, amused expression that made Sonic snort into his sleeve.
Sonic dropped into his own chair with a heavy exhale, the kind that came after pushing muscles too far and feeling proud of it anyway. He was still warm from training, still flushed, still riding the lingering hum of adrenaline in his veins. His arms ached pleasantly, and his hands felt too big and too tired around his spoon.
Jules only sat after he waited until everyone had food in front of them before taking his seat next to Aleena and only then did he decide to raise his spoon and said “To a delicious meal,”
“And a quiet night,” Aleena added to it as her gaze flickered to her son.
Manic grinned. “No promises.”
Sonia sighed, theatrical. “We’re doomed.”
The first few minutes were mostly the comfortable sounds of eating. The stew was thick and filling, the kind that sank into the stomach and made the world slow down around you. Sonic dipped his bread into the broth, soaking it up and shoving it into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days.
Jules watched him with a faint smirk. “Training do that to you?” he asked.
Sonic swallowed quickly. “Maybe,” he said, then immediately regretted the casual tone when his father’s eyes glinted.
“Mm,” Jules hummed. “Could’ve fooled me. You looked like you were about to pass out.”
Sonic scowled. “I was not.”
Aleena sipped from her cup, amused. “You were leaning on your sword like it was the only thing holding you upright when I saw you earlier.”
“That was just a quick break, nothing more,” Sonic insisted, cheeks warming.
Manic snickered. Sonia’s lips twitched.
Jules, ever merciful, let it pass and turned his attention to Sonia as she began to speak.
Her voice carried that bright, steady confidence that made her seem older than she was. “My tutor says I’m progressing well,” she said, carefully enunciating as if practicing even now. “If I keep at it, I’ll be able to advance a level by next spring.”
Aleena’s expression softened with pride. “That’s wonderful, Sonia.”
Sonia nodded, pleased but not smug. “She says my reading is above where it should be for my age, and my sums are improving.”
Jules lifted his brow. “Improving?” he repeated teasingly. “Does that mean you finally stopped correcting the tutor?”
Sonia’s cheeks colored faintly. “I don’t correct her,” she said, a little too quickly. “I—clarify.”
Manic burst out laughing, nearly choking on his bread.
“That’s what you call it?” he wheezed. “Clarify?”
“It is,” Sonia said primly, though the corners of her mouth twitched. “If someone says something wrong, it should be corrected.”
Jules leaned back slightly, amused.
Sonia looked down at her bowl, but she couldn’t hide the pleased glow in her eyes.
Manic shifted in his seat, elbows nearly tipping his cup before talking. “Father,” he said, suddenly earnest, “if I wanted to make my slingshot go farther… what would I change first?”
Aleena made a sound of immediate alarm. “Before you answer that—”
Jules held up a hand, chuckling. “Let me hear him.”
Manic sat up straighter, green quills bobbing. “The gears work,” he said quickly, as if he’d rehearsed the explanation in his head a dozen times. “But I think the tension band could be better. Maybe I could use—”
“A stronger band will increase force,” Jules said, thoughtful. “But it also increases strain on the frame. If you reinforce the arms again, maybe—”
Aleena cleared her throat sharply.
Jules paused, then grinned. “—and you do it outside,” he finished smoothly.
Manic looked mildly offended. “I wasn’t going to test it inside.”
Aleena gave him a look that said she did not believe him for a second. “Mm-hm,” she murmured, scooping a small portion of salad onto her plate. “You can improve it all you want, Manic, but any testing happens in the yard. And if anything breaks—”
“I’ll fix it,” Manic said quickly.
“Good,” Aleena said sweetly.
Sonic watched the exchange with a half-smile, then leaned forward slightly, unable to keep the pride out of his voice. “I almost won today.”
Sonia’s gaze snapped to him. “You did not.”
“I did,” Sonic insisted, sitting up straighter. “He had to actually move against me. Like—move move.”
Manic whistled. “No way.”
“I did,” Sonic repeated, eyes bright. The exhaustion in his limbs didn’t matter when he was saying it out loud. Saying it made it real. “I got him in a weird angle and he had to pivot.”
Jules’s eyes softened as a father who was genuinely proud of his son but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still tease his son
“Almost,” Jules echoed, drawing out the word like it was a lesson. “You did well, Sonic but almost isn’t the same as winning.”
Sonic groaned. “Ughh…you always do that.”
“Because it’s true,” Jules replied easily. “That said your footwork is improving.”
Sonic’s ears flicked at the compliment.
“And your reactions are…” Jules paused, choosing his words with care that Sonic didn’t notice, “…unusually sharp.”
Sonic grinned, pleased with himself. “So I’m getting good.”
“You’re getting better,” Jules corrected gently. “And you’re working hard. That’s what matters the most.”
As the moment began to settle in Sonic laid back in his seat, enjoying the heaviness settling in his stomach, the pleasant pull of tired muscles. Jules took a sip of water and exhaled through his nose, as if letting the day finally slip off his shoulders.
It wasn’t until the moments’ peacefulness had been suddenly interrupted by a knocking sound coming from the front door.
The room fell quiet in that instinctive way families do when something interrupts the rhythm of their home.
Aleena paused mid-step with a plate in her hands. Jules’s gaze shifted subtly towards the hallway that led to the front door, posture straightening by habit. Even Manic stopped fidgeting.
“I’ll get it,” Aleena said after a moment, setting the plate down.
Sonia hovered, uncertain. Sonic watched, curiosity pricking at him.
Aleena crossed the hall before opening the door.
The coool night air slipped into the house, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant city smoke. In the doorway stood a rider in royal colors, cloak pinned neatly at the shoulder, boots still dusted from travel. It was one of the royal messengers of Rosalia.
He inclined his head politely. “Lady Aleena,” he said, voice respectful.
Aleena returned the nod, calm but attentive. The messenger reached into his satchel and produced an envelope made of a thick parchment sealed with wax bearing the unmistakable crest of the royal family.
He held it out. Aleena accepted it carefully.
“Thank you,” she said.
The messenger tipped his hat once, then turned without another word, stepping down into the night. Through the open doorway, Sonic caught the brief glimpse of a chestnut coated horse shifting impatiently, breath steaming faintly in the cool air. The messenger swung into the saddle in a smooth motion and rode off, hooves muffled as he disappeared down the estate road back towards the walled kingdom in the far distance.
Aleena closed the door and stood there for a moment, envelope in hand, the ruby colored seal catching the lantern light like a small, ominous star. As she returned back to the dining room Jules noticed the envelope then proceeded to rise halfway out of his seat, already reaching for it without needing to ask. Aleena placed the envelope into his hand like it weighed more than it should.
Jules sat back down, expression unreadable in the way that made him suddenly look less like a father and more like something else.
He took a letter opener from the sideboard and slid it under the seal with careful precision. As the wax cracked softly, the inside of the envelope opened with a muted rustle.
As he pulled out and unfolded the letter from it his eyes moved across the lines row by row.
Jules slowly exhaled as if he’d been expecting this or as if some part of him was always waiting for the palace to call for him albeit later rather than sooner.
Aleena watched him closely. “Is it—?” she began quietly.
Jules lowered the letter onto the table, his gaze lifting to meet hers. His tone remained calm, but there was a weight to it now.
“It’s a request from the palace,” he said.
Sonic’s pulse quickened slightly, though he didn’t know why.
Jules folded the letter neatly back into the envelope before speaking again.
“They need me to lead the escort,” he explained, looking briefly toward Aleena. “The royal family is traveling to the Kingdom of Solaria in a few days.”
Sonia’s eyes widened slightly. “Solaria?” she repeated, interest sparking even through her calm.
Manic leaned forward. “Why?”
Jules’s mouth curved faintly, not quite a smile. “Possibly trade talks and other diplomatic reasons.”
Sonic glanced between his parents. “Is it going to be dangerous?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Jules shook his head. “No,” he said gently. “There isn’t going to be any issues while we travel. Plus it’s only going to be for a week or two if that.”
Aleena’s shoulders eased, but not fully. She reached out and rested her hand lightly on Jules’s arm, a quiet gesture of support.
Jules squeezed her fingers once under the table.
And for a moment, the warmth of the family dinner returned but it had shifted slightly now, touched by the reality of the world beyond their home.
The meal wound down in quiet, familiar ways. Bowls were scraped clean, cups refilled once more before being set aside. Aleena gathered plates with Sonia’s help, the two of them moving together with an easy rhythm born of countless evenings just like this one. Manic lingered only long enough to swipe the last bit of bread before being ushered toward the sink with a warning look from his mother.
Outside, the night had settled fully into its peaceful twilight nature.
The sky beyond the windows was deep and clear, scattered with stars that shimmered faintly in the cool air. The lanterns along the estate grounds had been lit, their soft glow spilling across the yard and brushing against the stone walls in gentle pools of light.
Jules stood and stretched once, rolling his shoulders. “Come on,” he said, glancing at Sonic. “Help me put the training swords away.”
Sonic nodded immediately and rose from his chair. His muscles protested faintly as he moved, a dull, pleasant ache that reminded him of the training he finished not too long ago. He followed his father back outside, the door closing behind them with a soft thud.
The night air was much cooler now, crisp against his flushed skin. Crickets had begun their steady song near the hedges, and somewhere in the distance an owl called from its tree. The training yard looked different under the lantern light, less like a battlefield and more like a quiet place meant for reflection.
They retrieved the wooden swords from where they’d left them, brushing dirt from the scuffed hilts and wiping them down with cloths Jules kept hung by the fence. Sonic worked carefully, methodically, mimicking the way he’d seen his father do it for years.
It was strange how much that mattered to him.
When the swords were properly stored, Jules nodded toward the stable. “Horse still needs feeding.”
Sonic perked up slightly. “I’ll do it.”
“I know you will,” Jules said, smiling faintly as they crossed the yard together.
The stable stood a short distance from the house, its doors half-open to let the evening breeze pass through. Inside, the family’s horse shifted and snorted softly as they approached, recognizing the familiar sounds of boots and voices.
Sonic gathered hay and grain while Jules checked the stall, making sure the latch was secure, the water clean. The rhythm of the task was soothing to them. Sonic poured the feed into the trough, watching as the horse lowered its head eagerly and gently stroked its mane.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The quiet stretched comfortably between them, filled only by the sound of chewing and the faint rustle of straw. Sonic leaned against the stall door, resting his arms on the top rail, gaze drifting outward.
Beyond the stable, past the darkened yard and the gentle rise of the land, Rosalia loomed in the distance. Even from here, the castle was visible, its towers outlined against the star-streaked sky, lanterns glimmering like scattered embers along its walls.
The sight tugged at something in his chest.
He hesitated, fingers tightening slightly against the wood.
“Dad…can I ask you something?” he asked, voice low, almost lost to the night.
Jules glanced over his shoulder, immediately attentive. “Yes you can son.”
Sonic swallowed. He wasn’t entirely sure how to ask it, or why the question felt heavier now than it had earlier at the table.
“What’s it like,” he began, then paused. “…working with the royal family?”
Jules didn’t answer right away.
He finished adjusting the strap he’d been checking and leaned back against the stall beside Sonic, folding his arms loosely. He followed Sonic’s gaze toward the distant castle, eyes softening as they took it in.
“They’re good people,” he said at last. “Kind. Thoughtful. More than most give them credit for really.”
Sonic turned his head slightly, listening.
“They carry the weight of the whole kingdom,” Jules continued, voice steady and sure, “even when no one sees it. Every choice they make touches someone’s life in one way or another. Every mistake echoes farther than they’d like.”
He glanced down at Sonic. “It’s not an easy burden to have. Especially when you’re born into the life of royalty.”
Sonic nodded slowly, thinking of the way the castle always seemed so grand yet untouchable. He’d never really considered what it meant to live there, to rule and govern thousands of citizens everyday.
Jules smiled to himself, a fondness creeping into his expression. “You know…” as he dragged that line “the eldest princess is close to your age,” he added casually. “Bright little thing. Curious as ever, always asking questions about the world we live in.”
Sonic’s ears flicked towards his dad more.
“She’s adventurous,” Jules went on, tone light but affectionate, “and sweet. Has a laugh that carries across half the courtyard when she forgets herself.”
Sonic blinked, getting more interested by the detail.
“But don’t let that fool you though,” Jules said, eyes gleaming faintly. “She’s fierce, too. Wants to be strong for her kingdom. Stronger than people expect for a little girl like herself.”
Sonic felt heat creep up his neck. “You… you know her that well?”
Jules chuckled. “I’ve practically seen her grow up, same as I’ve watched you. Comes with the job you know.”
He paused, then added, almost offhandedly, “She’s pretty cute you know.”
Sonic froze.
“S-S—So?” he blurted a little too quickly.
Jules shot him a sideways look, amusement dancing across his face. “So,” he said innocently, “if you keep training like this, you might find yourself crossing paths with her more often than you think.”
That done it as Sonic’s face went hot in an instant. “Dad!”
Jules laughed, a deep, easy sound that echoed softly in the stable. “Relax,” he said. “I’m only teasing.”
Sonic crossed his arms, mortified. “That’s not funny.”
“Sure it is,” Jules replied. “You should see your face.”
Sonic groaned and turned away, staring stubbornly at the horse as if it might offer some form of escape. “I’m twelve,” he muttered.
“And already blushing like a grown knight who saved a princess” Jules said with a grin.
Sonic shot him a look. “Stop.”
Jules relented, holding up his hands in surrender, though the smile didn’t fade. He reached out and lightly nudged Sonic’s shoulder with the end of the wooden practice sword he’d brought along, the gesture gentle and playful.
“A knight never knows where fate will place him,” Jules said, voice softening. “Maybe you’ll even be her favorite knight. The one who protects her and stands guard by her side.”
Sonic’s heart did something strange in his chest with an unfamiliar flutter, equal parts embarrassment and something else he didn’t yet have words for.
“I—I don’t even know her,” he said, quieter now.
Jules hummed thoughtfully. “Not yet at least.”
He leaned his back against the stall again, eyes returning to the castle in the distance. “Fate works in strange ways,” he went on. “You meet people when you least expect it. Sometimes long before you realize why they matter.”
Sonic followed his gaze again, the castle lights flickering faintly in the dark. The wind brushed past them, cool and steady, tugging at his quills and whispering through the grass.
“At the rate you’re going Sonic,” Jules added, glancing down at him with quiet pride, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up working close with the royal family someday. Especially with your old man here.”
Sonic didn’t reply.
He just stared out at Rosalia, something thoughtful settling over his expression. The idea felt impossibly distant and oddly familiar all at once, like a story he’d heard before but couldn’t quite remember.
Jules shifted, then draped an arm around Sonic’s shoulders, pulling him in gently. Sonic stiffened for a heartbeat before relaxing into the contact, leaning instinctively into his father’s side.
They stood there together in silence, framed by lantern light and starlight, the world vast and quiet around them.
Whatever path awaited him beyond this moment only made his heart pump in anticipation.
But for now it was enough to just stand together and watch the castle glow against the night, unaware of what was truly to come in the distant future.
Notes:
Hope you all enjoyed the first official chapter for this story, I'll try to get around this story when I am able to.
Happy Holidays to you all and have safe and fun time with your families.
(o^-')b