Renart lowered himself beside Abenator, his presence calm, almost reverent, as though he stood before something sacred in the making. His voice came softly, yet it carried the weight of something far greater than comfort.
Destiny shaped all things. It could be faced with strength, embraced with victory… or it could crush those too weak to rise. There was no path backward—only forward, into whatever fate demanded.
Abenator's face twisted.
Grief still lingered in his eyes, but it no longer stood alone. It warped, twisted, and slowly ignited into something far more dangerous. Fury took hold, burning through the remnants of pain.
His lips parted, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet it trembled with hatred.
He cursed Kabul.
Not as a brother—but as an enemy.
Every tear he had shed, every scar carved into his heart… he would repay them all.
Renart rose slowly, watching him with quiet satisfaction. His eyes gleamed, reflecting the shift that had just taken place.
The question lingered in the air, heavy and final.
Was he ready?
A long silence followed.
Abenator lifted his head.
The boy who had entered the Garden of Echoes was gone.
What remained looked the same… but felt entirely different.
His voice, when it came, was low. Controlled. Dangerous.
He was ready.
Garden of Echoes – Night
Darkness swallowed the forest as the ritual began.
Renart knelt once more, pressing his palm firmly against the earth. At his touch, ancient runes beneath the soil flickered to life, glowing with a deep, unnatural light.
His voice rose into the night, chanting in a language older than the kingdom itself. The words curled through the air like living things, heavy with power.
The ground responded.
It trembled violently. The wind howled, tearing through the trees as though the forest itself resisted what was being awakened.
Abenator looked around, unease creeping into his chest.
Too late, he realized where he stood.
At the center of it all.
The soil beneath his feet split open, revealing veins of molten fire glowing beneath the forming sigil. Heat surged upward, distorting the air around him.
From within the storm of magic, another presence rose.
Rulan.
His arms lifted toward the sky as his voice thundered across the forest, calling upon forces long buried and long forgotten. Shadows answered.
They rose from the earth like living nightmares.
Twisting.
Crawling.
Hungry.
They wrapped around Abenator before he could escape.
And then—
He screamed.
CASTLE – KABUL'S CHAMBER – SAME TIME
Far from the ritual, Kabul stood on his balcony, staring into the distance.
The sky above the Garden of Echoes churned unnaturally, dark clouds twisting into a violent storm. Lightning flickered within it—not white, but something darker, something wrong.
For a moment, he no longer looked like a prince.
He looked like a child.
Lost.
Afraid.
Confused.
A single question broke from his lips, fragile and shattered.
Why?
Behind him, Queen Cara entered quietly.
The moment Kabul turned and saw her, his composure broke. He collapsed into her embrace, clinging to her as though she were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
He asked her the question that had been haunting him, the one that no battle or training could answer.
Were they meant to hate each other forever?
Cara held his face gently, her touch warm, grounding. She chose her words with care, knowing how fragile his heart had become.
Abenator, she told him, was walking a dark path. But that darkness did not erase their bond. No matter how far he strayed, Kabul's duty remained the same—to protect him.
As he always had.
Kabul shook beneath her hands.
He did not understand.
How could he protect someone who no longer wanted to be saved? How could he fight for a bond that seemed to be breaking apart no matter what he did?
It felt as though he had already lost… before the battle had even begun.
Cara wiped away his tears.
Then she gave him the only answer she could.
When faced with darkness, there was only one weapon it truly feared.
Belief.
Belief in himself.
Kabul looked at her, searching for something more—something to hold onto.
For a fleeting moment, he felt like a child again.
And all he could say was one word.
Mother.
GARDEN OF ECHOES – CONTINUOUS
Abenator's screams tore through the forest as the shadows forced their way into him.
They did not simply surround him.
They entered him.
His body convulsed under the strain. Pain unlike anything he had ever known coursed through his veins, burning, tearing, consuming.
He tried to fight it.
He couldn't.
Blood trickled from his nose as the shadows surged upward, crawling into his eyes. Darkness spread within them, swallowing everything that had once been human.
Renart watched.
Still.
Silent.
Proud.
Like a sculptor witnessing the final moments of his masterpiece taking shape.
His voice rose again, filled with dark delight as he called upon the shadows to complete their work.
A final surge of power erupted.
Abenator screamed one last time—
A sound no longer entirely human.
Then his body went still.
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Absolute.
For a moment, it seemed as though the forest itself held its breath.
Then—
Abenator moved.
Slowly, he lifted his head.
A smile spread across his face.
Cold.
Unfamiliar.
Terrifying.
He spoke softly, almost in wonder.
For the first time in his life…
He felt whole.
Renart stepped back, unable to hide his satisfaction.
At last, the transformation was complete.
The thing that rose before him was no longer just a prince.
It was something else.
Something dangerous.
Something the kingdom would soon fear.
The beast had been born.
Narration
Betrayal.
Neglect.
Pain left to fester in silence.
These were the roots of Abenator's descent into darkness.
And with every shadow he embraced, the bond between the two brothers fractured further.
The question remained—
Would destiny forever set them against one another…
Or could something, somewhere, still guide them back to what they once were?
The screams faded.
The memories shattered,and just like that
Kabul opened his eyes. (END OF FLASHBACK)
Back in the present.
They were no longer the boys they once were.