Chapter 2 -- "The Spell Kings".

The last echo of applause faded into the high vaults of the Great Hall.

Elias stood on a dais of white marble, the weight of the kingdom pressing invisibly on his shoulders. Every noble in Velar . seemed to be watching --rows upon rows of jeweled collars and powered faces, all staring with egar solemnity .The air was perfumed and heavy with incense.

At the far end of the hall, the royal mage-- chorus hummed softly, the opening notes of the summoning rite vibrating like distant thunder. The banners of his ancestors hung above him -- kings and queens whose portraits glowed faintly with enchantment, as if the spirit inside were waiting to judge him.

Master Avert stood beside the summoning circle etched in silver on the marble floor. He lifted his staff and spoke with booming reverence:

"Let the Heir of Velar step forward.

Let the guardian of his soul awaken."

The murmuring of the crowed ceased.

Elias descended the steps slowly. His ceremonial cape trailed behind him like a tide of sunlight. Every click of his boot echoed like a heartbeat.

He reached the circle. The sigils shimmered. His throat felt impossibly dry.

Avert handed him the scroll. "Repeat precisely. Don't deviate. Words shape the spirit."

Elias nodded, eyes scanning the runes. He recognized the old tongue -- the recited by every monarch for centuries. But as he read, something tugged at him -- a quiet rebellion rising from somewhere he couldn't name.

His fingers trembled slightly as he lifted his hand over the circle.

The air began to stir.

He spoke:

"By blood and by name, Summon forth

The guardian of my line.

Let my courage take form. Let my duty be given strength Let--"

His voice wavered. The sigil pulsed brighter, responding to his emotion rather than his diction.

Let the protector of Velar awaken --"

A sudden thought broke through his concentration. What if I don't want a protector?

It wasn't a defiant thought -- more wistful, lonely.

What if I just want someone who understands me?

The words slipped unbidden from his tongue:

" Let my heart be known to its truest companion."

Avert's head snapped up. " Your Highness --?"

But it was too late.

The circle blazed white. The scroll disintegrated in Elias hand. The air snapped with heart and color--gold, violet and something too bright to name. Elias stumbled back as the sound of thunder rolled through the hall.

The sigil spun, faster and faster. Then twisted, melting into symbols he didn't recognize.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

The floor cracked.

Avert shouted something -- lost in the roar --

and the circle exploded outward in a rush of light and smoke.

Elias threw an arm over his face. The light seared through his eyelids. And then, as suddenly as it began, the chaos stopped.

Silence.

The smoke cleared. And at the center of the scorched marble floor barefoot, hair sticking up in impossible directions stood a man.

He blinked at the assembled nobles. Then at Elias. Then grinned.

" Well," the stranger said cheerfully.

Took you long enough to call."

Elias froze.