THE SHATTERED REALM: FORGOTTEN ECHOES

Henndar looked at the boy in a new light,

"I see. We over here know of your king's predicament; not having a single son amongst his eight children. No wonder you would like to keep him a secret from the world, he's much too valuable! Well, Hordin, since you have the pure bloodline, I suppose you should have unlocked your abilities by now?"

Hordin's mood went down the moment Henndar said that.

He hung his head low and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

That was the main reason why his father hated him so much.

The bloodline in the Bone Kingdom's royal family made them able to unlock their abilities at the early age of eight, but he was already twelve, the age normal kids would unlock their abilities and no signs were showing in him.

Henndar immediately understood the reason why Hordin was sad and didn't press the matter anymore. He refocused his attention on the old man and sat opposite the two.

"So, you two are the main people here on behalf of your kingdom? I expected a much larger group from you but I guess this will have to do."

"We wouldn't want to burden your kingdom taking care of a large group from us."

"Of course, I understand your concern, but you don't have to worry next time. We can take great care of whichever number you send our way."

"We will try to consider that the next time such an occasion arises."

Henndar nodded and continued. "But I have to inform you the invite was not just for the celebration. There is an urgent matter that needs to be discussed for it poses a threat to all of us. I believe you would stand in instead of the crown prince?"

The old man wanted to ask more about what it was that was so urgent that needed to be discussed but restrained himself. "Yes, I believe so," he agreed.

Henndar nodded then got up.

The room seemed to close in around him as Henndar's gaze intensified, drilling into Hordin's soul. He felt the weight of his own inadequacy pressing down on him, suffocating. Hordin's breath came in shallow gasps, his hands trembling at his sides, yet he couldn't look away. Every word from Henndar felt like a lash across his mind, each one tearing deeper into the fragile walls he had built around himself.

"Your father chose you for this," Henndar continued, voice low but filled with that unnerving calmness. "But I wonder… if he's wrong."

Hordin swallowed, his heart hammering in his chest. He could hear his father's voice in his head, bitter and unforgiving. "Weakness will never be tolerated." The words had burned into him for years. Every failure, every misstep had been a constant reminder that he would never be good enough. But this—this was worse. Henndar's words were a silent threat, a reminder of how little he truly mattered in the grand scheme of things.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came. His mind raced, flashing back to the countless moments in his childhood when his father's cruelty had left him broken. The sting of disappointment, the cutting silence that followed every mistake, every attempt at something he could never quite reach.

But Henndar's presence felt different. Like the weight of the world was bearing down on him, suffocating him slowly, with a precision his father had never had. The King knew too much, saw too deeply into him, and Hordin couldn't escape it. Was this a test? Or worse—a trap?

Hordin's thoughts swirled like a storm, the noise inside his head louder than the silence between them. He could feel his father's judgment, his icy disdain, creeping back into his mind, filling him with the same dread he had tried so desperately to escape. But this time, it wasn't just his father's voice echoing in his mind. Henndar's gaze felt like a judgment of its own, a cold reminder of how little he had truly been prepared for the world he had inherited.

"You still haven't learned what you need, have you?" Henndar's words sliced through his thoughts like a dagger.

Hordin clenched his fists, a quiet, desperate frustration rising in his chest. He had spent his life struggling to be something, to prove to everyone—most of all, his father—that he wasn't worthless. But now, in front of Henndar, he was nothing but a boy lost in a kingdom that didn't know how to keep him safe. The image of his father, standing over him with that same unfeeling stare, flooded his mind again. That familiar ache twisted his insides. Why couldn't he just be… enough?

For a moment, the room seemed to spin, the ground beneath him unsteady as the weight of his own doubt crashed over him. Then, Henndar's voice broke through the chaos, calm and almost indifferent.

"I hope you find what you're looking for. Because time is running out."

The words lingered, heavy with a promise of something more—something Hordin wasn't yet ready to face. He nodded, but the motion felt hollow. As he turned to leave, the cold air hit him like a slap, pulling him out of the haze of his own thoughts.

Hordin raised his head and saw the old man eyeing him carefully. He observed his surroundings, realizing he was just imagining things

"I shall be taking my leave then, I have some matters to attend to," and with that, Henndar left the room.

He was away from earshot and out of sight when Deadlock one appeared beside him.

"Send two of your men to keep an eye on those, especially the kid, keep a close eye on him. He was able to spot one of the concealed soldiers in the room even though no one else could."

Deadlock said nothing and disappeared.

Hordin went to his room after everything that had happened. He just couldn't shake off the uncomfortable feeling he felt when that king was inside with them. It was like the space he was inside had been warped and distorted to unveil his insecurities.

To make matters worse, the king found out about his uselessness on their first encounter. Hordin hated feeling useless and helpless.

He had read everything there was to know about all attributes and cultivation, but couldn't cultivate anything himself, and anyone who couldn't grow powerful was useless in this world.

The Bone Kingdom's royal family had the special ability to control bones instead of the normal attributes. Theirs was a different version of the blood attribute. Their ancestors had studied the blood and found out it was made from bone marrow.

This led them to experiment until they were able to control bones at will. They used them as weapons, shields, appendages, disguises, and a whole lot more.

He was supposed to unlock that ability four years ago but that never got to him. All his sisters were able to, but he wasn't, and that made him tagged as useless. The throne would be handed to one of his sisters if he was not able to get strong.

Who would let a weakling rule a Kingdom? 

Tomorrow, the celebration to commemorate a princess breaking through was to be held, a successful child was to be celebrated and he would be among those who would watch.

He felt sad, but that was not the reason why that man who claimed to be his father sent him there.

He was to learn more about people, that was that, and no room for feeling bad.

He went to sleep, knowing nightmares awaited him, but unaware of the little figure that had slipped into his room.