Chapter 53 – Shattered Convergence

Before Shawn could even hear Makara’s words, the last thing he remembered was leaping from the eagle, launching himself through the air with a roar. He dove straight toward Prince Aerion, raking his wing in the process, then continued his plunge through the open roof of the castle. Shawn crashed into the throne chair with a thunderous clang, the impact echoing through the hall.

Then, when Shawn opened his eyes, he found himself in a strange realm, a vast expanse of pure white stretching endlessly in all directions. His steps were slow, and his expression was blank—devoid of emotion. He walked forward, not knowing where he was heading, when suddenly, a voice pierced the silence, calling his name. He stopped abruptly, his heart beating fast, and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was no longer in the empty realm.

Before him stood Prince Aerion, bloodied and weakened, his red-colored wing pinned against the throne chair by his own glaive. Shawn blinked in confusion, his mind spinning as he tried to make sense of the scene. Selena and Makara stepped into the room cautiously, their expressions mirroring his uncertainty. They couldn’t fully comprehend what had happened, but they all sensed that something had irrevocably shifted the moment they crossed the threshold.

The silence was suffocating until Prince Aerion’s bloodied, raspy breath broke it. “Finally… you’re back, uh,” Prince Aerion said, his voice filled with bitter amusement. Shawn was confused by the statement made by Prince Aerion. His laugh was hollow, drained of any real joy, replaced by deep, weary sorrow. “I thought, maybe… I could be like my brother.” As the Trio gathered to listen to Prince Aerion’s story.

Prince Aerion’s hollow eyes drifted, staring at something beyond them, as if he was seeing memories unfold in front of him. “But I can never be him.” His voice faltered, carrying the weight of years spent in the shadow of someone else. He didn’t look at them, not directly. His gaze remained distant, as though he was reliving a lifetime of being second, moments that crushed his spirit over and over again.

“I was my mother’s first child, but always second in everything that mattered.” He let out a trembling breath. “Second in line for my father’s crown, unlike my brother—born first, first in line, first in everything. He wore it effortlessly, carried the love of the people… and of us, too. He was the light in our lives. And me? I was always in the shadows, always present but never seen. Always second—birthright, the crown, EVERYTHING!”

Shawn, Selena, and Makara stood quietly, absorbing the heavy confession. Prince Aerion’s words hung in the air, saturated with the bitterness of a life lived in constant comparison, of someone who could never escape being overshadowed.

“But…” Prince Aerion’s voice broke through again, softer this time, almost regretful. “I cannot give you the fragment, not like my brother would. My brother can do that… but me? I can’t. The fragment is bound to my life. I can only give it through my death.”

Shawn’s eyes widened as the grim reality of Prince Aerion’s words set in. The fragment, the very thing they were after to stop the impending war, was tethered to the prince’s life. It could not be claimed unless he died.

“Shawn, was it? I know why you need the fragment,” Prince Aerion continued, his voice now addressing Shawn directly. “It’s the only way to stop him—my father.  You can end this war,… by stopping him.”

The weight of the moment pressed down on Shawn, Selena, and Makara like a crushing burden. Selena’s fists clenched at her sides, frustration boiling beneath her calm exterior. Makara, usually light-hearted and easygoing, was uncharacteristically sombre as he turned to Shawn.

“Shawn,” Makara said, stepping forward gently, his voice steady but soft. “Remember what I said? The hard choices we’d have to make? This is one of them.” He hesitated, his eyes locking with Shawn’s, pleading for him to understand. “Don’t let him suffer any longer, Shawn. End his suffering.”

Shawn’s heart twisted in his chest. He looked down at Prince Aerion, who met his gaze with a resigned calm. Despite the physical toll the fight had taken on him, Prince Aerion’s eyes showed peace, as if he had already accepted his fate. His body trembled, not with fear, but with exhaustion.

“Shawn,” Prince Aerion whispered, his voice now barely audible. “It was a good fight… the best I’ve had in years.”

Shawn’s hands trembled as he summoned his sword once more. His mind screamed in resistance, but he knew, deep down, what had to be done. His heart felt unbearably heavy as he raised the blade, his eyes filled with sorrow as they met Prince Aerion’s for the last time.

The prince’s last words came with a gentle sigh. “Thank you… for giving me a worthy end.”

With a final, painful breath, Shawn drove the sword into the prince’s chest. For a moment, the prince’s body went rigid, then it relaxed, his eyes softening as his spirit seemed to release the weight it had carried for so long. As Shawn withdrew the blade, Prince Aerion’s form dissolved into a cascade of feathers, swirling delicately in the air like a gentle breeze.

The birds in the castle fluttered in and entered the throne room, their wings beating in slow, solemn rhythm. As the Trio noticed the bird as their cries were not of sorrow as humans would express, but their wings moved with an unmistakable weight, circling where Prince Aerion once laid. They flew around, honouring him, before soaring high through the open roof, disappearing into the sky.

As Prince Aerion’s body dissipated into feathers, they floated gently down onto the throne, mingling with the air until the last of them rested, leaving behind only silence. Among the delicate feathers, the fragment of the sword clanged faintly as it hit the stone floor near the throne. The sound echoed through the quiet chamber, its metallic tone marking the end of an era. The fragment glinted dimly in the fading light, a stark reminder of the price they had paid to obtain it.

Shawn, still reeling from the weight of his decision, dropped to one knee, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. His heart felt impossibly heavy, burdened not just with exhaustion but with the emotional toll of what he had done. Killing Prince Aerion—even to end his suffering—was a weight that hung around his soul like chains. For someone so young, the choice had been cruel, yet necessary.

Makara and Selena were by his side in an instant, placing their hands on his shoulders, offering silent support. They didn’t speak—there were no words that could alleviate the pain Shawn felt. They could only stand beside him, sharing the burden in their quiet understanding. Together, they mourned the prince who had, in his final moments, shown them a fragile kind of strength, one born from acceptance of his own fate.

The room fell into a deep, sombre silence. Shawn’s eyes, still glazed with grief, fell upon the fragment of the sword lying before him. Its faint glint seemed to call to him, reminding him that their mission was not over. Despite the turmoil in his heart, Shawn knew he had to finish what they had come for. He needed to claim the fragment.

With trembling fingers, Shawn reached toward it. But just as his hand hovered above the fragment, something unexpected happened. Dark blue smoke erupted from his palm, spiralling around his arm. The mist coiled around the fragment, lifting it from the stone floor before Shawn could even touch it. His hand froze mid-air, eyes widening in astonishment as the fragment floated before him, shrouded in the swirling haze.

Makara and Selena exchanged startled glances, their breaths caught as the phenomenon unfolded. The dark blue smoke seemed alive, responding to Shawn’s presence, curling and twisting with intent. Slowly, the fragment spun within the mist—and then, the previous fragment—the one Prince Zhao had given—emerged from the smoke, and circled beside the new one. Both fragments hovered side by side, encased in the living swirl of dark blue smoke.

“Shawn, what’s happening?” Selena whispered, her voice thick with awe and a tinge of fear.

Makara, always quick to adapt, studied the fragments with narrowed eyes before giving Shawn a nod of encouragement. “Shawn, focus. Picture them merging, like two pieces of a puzzle. Imagine them becoming one.”

Though exhaustion weighed heavily on his mind and body, Shawn nodded, his brow furrowing in concentration. He focused, willing the fragments to fuse. In response to his thoughts, the fragments began to align, moving closer to one another, inch by inch. The dark blue smoke tightened around them, pulsing as if waiting for the moment they would become one.

As the fragments touched, a flicker of hope crossed their faces. But it was fleeting. The fragments pressed together, yet they did not merge. They continued to hover in a straight line, locked in place but refusing to fuse into a single blade.

Confusion rippled through the room. Selena’s eyes darted between the fragments and Shawn, her earlier anticipation giving way to uncertainty. Shawn gritted his teeth, pushing harder, trying once more to force the fragments together. But they remained stubbornly separate. His face paled with effort, sweat beading on his forehead as the strain of using so much energy began to take its toll. The dark blue smoke swirled faster, tighter, as if feeding on his strength. His body trembled, weakened by the enormous power coursing through him.

Finally, his strength gave out. His knees buckled, and his vision blurred, the world spinning around him as his body collapsed under the strain.

“Shawn!” Selena’s voice rang out, filled with panic as she rushed forward, catching him just before he fell to the floor. Makara quickly moved to support him from the other side, his usually calm demeanour now replaced with concern.

The dark blue smoke, once controlled and purposeful, began to falter, pulsing erratically as if echoing Shawn’s uneven breaths. Before anyone could react, the two fragments, still suspended in mid-air, dissolved into the swirling mist. The smoke writhed and twisted, spiralling, then surged toward Shawn and flowed into his body, vanishing within him.

Shawn’s body convulsed slightly as the fragments merged with him. His chest heaved, each breath laboured and shallow. The warmth of his skin turned into a feverish heat, his body burning up from the power now coursing through him.

Selena pressed her hand to his forehead, alarmed by the heat radiating from him. “He’s burning up,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, disbelief creeping into her tone.

Makara knelt beside Shawn, feeling the intense heat rising from his skin. His eyes filled with worry as he glanced at Selena. “We need to cool him off. Now.”

“I’ll find something,” Selena said quickly, standing up and scanning the room for anything that might help. She rushed off, her heart pounding with urgency.

Meanwhile, Shawn’s body continued to heat up, his breath growing more ragged with each passing second. His skin glowed faintly, the heat becoming unbearable. Makara knelt closer, his voice rising in desperation. “Shawn! Shawn, wake up! Stay with us!” He shook Shawn’s shoulder gently at first, then more urgently. “Shawn! Shawn! … SHAWN!”