The morning sun spilled across the white marble streets of the capital as banners fluttered high above the crowds. The royal parade moved slowly through the city, soldiers in polished armor marching in perfect rhythm while musicians filled the air with triumphant melodies. From atop his decorated horse rode Prince Alistair, heir to the throne, offering polite waves to the cheering citizens who had gathered along the wide boulevard.

Alistair had attended countless parades before, yet something about this one felt different. As his sharp eyes scanned the crowd, they caught on someone who didn’t seem to belong among the festival excitement. Near the edge of the street stood a quiet young man, almost hidden among the onlookers. The boy’s gaze was calm, distant, as though he were watching something no one else could see. Someone whispered nearby, referring to him simply as “My persona.”

For a brief moment, the wind shifted strangely. The prince’s horse stirred beneath him, and the flags overhead trembled though the air had been still seconds before. Around the boy, sunlight bent in a way Alistair could hardly explain. The prince frowned slightly. No ordinary citizen could stir the air itself with a single breath.

Curiosity tugged harder than royal composure allowed. With a subtle gesture, Alistair slowed the parade procession, his attention fixed on the mysterious figure. Their eyes met across the crowd. His a silver-blue meeting an unfamiliar, unreadable gaze. In that instant, the prince felt something ripple through him, a strange pull that was neither fear nor threat… but recognition.

The boy seemed unaware of what had just happened. A faint shimmer flickered along his fingertips before vanishing like mist. The surrounding crowd remained oblivious, laughing and cheering for the royal family, unaware that something ancient and powerful had just awakened in their midst.

Prince Alistair dismounted before his guards could question him, moving toward the boy with quiet determination. “You,” he said gently, though his voice carried the quiet authority of a future king. “I don’t believe we’ve met… but something tells me we were meant to.”