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Atlas

A tlas stood in front of his chamber’s mirror, staring at his reflection in the dim candlelight.

His royal garb lay discarded on the floor, replaced by the plain, rough-spun tunic and trousers of a commoner among men.

Nausea crept in as he slipped on a dark cloak, pulling the hood low over his face.

Tonight, he was no longer the prince and heir to Lephyrin. He was simply a brother—one determined to defy his king’s orders.

He had pleaded with his father for days, demanding they send ships to find Draevyn. But the king had been adamant, warning that the act of abandoning his kingdom would be considered treason under his rule. His other son was gone, and he wouldn’t allow his heir to chase after him and risk his life.

Atlas didn’t give a fuck. He would never believe Draevyn was truly lost. Not without proof.

His brother was still out there, somewhere, possibly sitting at the edge of an enemy’s blade.

And if no one else would go, he would lead the search himself.

Atlas had always felt the need to protect Draevyn ever since the day their mother died.

He wouldn’t let the fact that he had rarely left Lephyrin stop him.

He turned toward his bed, silently looking at his sleeping bride-to-be, her chest rising and falling beneath the covers. Elowynne was unaware of his plans, and she may get angry with him enough to break off their engagement, but it was a risk he was willing to take.

Atlas quietly tiptoed to the edge of their bed before gently pressing his lips to her forehead, brushing her hair away from her face. “Forgive me,” he whispered.

And a moment later, he was beyond his chamber’s door.

Atlas moved swiftly through the shadowed corridors of the castle, his heart pounding with each step.

Moonlight slanted through the windows, pooling silver across the stone corridors, but he kept to the edges of the walls where the torches burned low.

His breath was shallow, his pulse quickening as he glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting to see guards rushing after him.

He darted through the narrow halls, avoiding the main passages where the sentries would be posted. Just a few more turns, and he’d be free of the royal quarters.

As he rounded a corner, his footfalls suddenly stilled, a flicker of movement catching his eye.

“Going somewhere, Your Highness?”

The voice had a slight stutter, giving away the man’s nerves. Atlas turned to find two guards stepping from a side hall, hands already on the hilts of their swords.

Flaming balls of Irah. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he said under his breath.

“Out for a stroll,” he said easily. “The air gets quite stuffy in here, don’t you think?”

The taller guard frowned. “At this hour?”

“Have you seen the moon?” He gestured to one of the windows, where its silvery light was pouring through. “It’s quite lovely tonight.”

The shorter guard sighed, exchanging a look with his companion. “We have orders, Prince. You know you can’t leave.”

Adrenaline surged through Atlas, and he grinned. “Oh? And what exactly do you plan to do about it?”

They both shifted on their feet. “If you resist, we’ll have to?—”

Atlas didn’t let him finish.

The torches flickered, their light dying out.

Darkness surged, and the shadows at his feet exploded outward, swallowing the corridor whole. The guards barely had time to react before the black tendrils reached for them.

One of them gasped as a shadow coiled around his arms, twisting tight, yanking him back. The other swore, drawing his sword, but it was useless. The shadows curled up the blade, devouring it, climbing to his wrists like living ink.

Their breathing came sharp and erratic as they both began to panic.

Atlas stepped forward, his darkness pressing against his skin, bending to his will. “If you know what’s good for you, you never saw me. I was never here.”

The guards struggled, and the tendrils curled around their necks, not tight enough to choke—just enough to make them hold still until he was out of sight.

Atlas’s stomach twisted, but he forced it down. It wasn’t like he was hurting them. He could have done much worse.

Besides, what choice did he have? He had to get to Draevyn, and these men were only in his way by the order of his father.

“Remember who you’ll serve as Lephyrin’s next crown,” he warned, and their eyes widened at the subtle threat.

Would they obey their current king, or would their loyalty move onto the man who would one day wear the crown?

Atlas took off in a run, his magic cloaking him like a wraith in the night as he slipped through the remainder of the castle unseen.

It had been years since he wandered menacingly about the castle in the dead of night, sneaking around as a mischievous boy.

He watched as more guards stationed throughout went on alert, sensing something, or someone, was among them, but he easily evaded their gazes and snuck out a window in the staff’s kitchen.

The night was quiet, and he moved swiftly through the darkened streets, past the rowdy taverns and merchant stalls, until the familiar scent of saltwater filled his lungs.

The docks stretched out before him, ghostly in the pale moonlight as the fog crept in, rolling off the waves.

As he approached his brother’s ship docked in the harbor, he spotted a small group of figures gathered near the gangplank. The crew turned to face him, murmurs of confusion and concern spreading among them.

Once he came to a stop before them, Samwell spoke up. “What’s this about, Prince? We’re just minding our business.”

Atlas’s gaze raked over the men. “Still nothing from your captain, I presume?”

“You would assume correctly,” he answered. “To what do we owe the pleasure at such an odd hour in the evening?”

Atlas sucked on his tooth, unsure of how to even begin to convince them to defy their king and sail on his orders. “Who is your loyalty to?” he asked.

Samwell and the rest of the crew exchanged wary glances.

“Lephyrin, Prince. Our loyalty is to the Lephyrin crown.”

Atlas’s eyes darkened as he took a single step closer to the crew. “To who in Lephyrin?”

Samwell’s hardened gaze softened. “You’re not here on the king’s orders, are you, Prince Atlas?” he asked, squaring his shoulders.

“I am not,” he admitted.

“And what brings you down to Valor , Your Highness?”

Atlas glanced up at the ship, watching as the sails fluttered lightly in the breeze.

“I have reason to believe that Draevyn may be in danger, and you and I are the only ones who give a damn about it.” He took another step forward, now only standing mere inches from Samwell, towering over him as shadows swirled around his wrists.

“So, I will ask you one more time. Who in Lephyrin holds your loyalty?”

“My captain,” Samwell answered without hesitation, his voice strong. “My loyalty and sword will always be to Captain and Prince Draevyn Rowe. ”

Atlas grinned. “As is mine.” He took a step back, allowing his shadows to retreat into the palms of his hands.

“Now, if you’re all to get involved, you should know what you’re about to get yourselves into,” he started, addressing them all.

“The king has declared that searching for Draevyn will be considered a treasonous act, assuming he’s lost at sea and the efforts wasted resources.

Now, personally, I don’t give a damn what the king has said. ”

Atlas’s heart raced as the words left him, but he knew in his soul they were the truth. “My brother is still out there, and I’m going after him. With or without you.”

The crew exchanged uneasy glances, but none of them spoke. They had been loyal to Draevyn, but defying their king? It was treason—dangerous ground, even for a crew who didn’t necessarily always abide by the law.

Samwell flashed him a toothy grin, not even bothering to take a vote among his men. “As I stated, our loyalty lies with your brother.” He looked Atlas up and down. “And our future king.”

Atlas’s eyes widened. Not necessarily because they clearly loathed the king, but that their loyalty was undoubtedly to Draevyn. He was thankful his brother had these men at his side.

“King Rowe is hiding something, and I believe he knows what’s happened to Draevyn, and that’s why he’s trying to hide everything regarding it. The realm will eventually realize a prince is missing, second son or no. I intend to find my brother and bring him back to Lephyrin alive.”

A man stepped forward, older by many years. “And if the king finds out we defied his direct orders, we’ll be branded traitors. Though I doubt the same goes for you.”

“Easy, Tommy,” Samwell muttered.

Atlas looked at the crew, his eyes hard as steel. “I’ll take full responsibility if it comes to that. But ask yourselves—if Draevyn were here, and one of you were lost, would he just give up? Would he let the king’s orders stop him from searching?”

Chuckles rang out among them .

“No, he wouldn’t,” the man—Tommy—admitted, shaking his head. “Draevyn never left a man behind.”

There was a long silence, the sound of the waves lapping against the docks filling the void. Samwell turned to the horizon, where dawn would shortly rise. “When do we leave, Prince?”

Atlas nodded, relief flooding him. “As soon as the ship is ready.”

A breathy laugh slipped from Samwell. “Well, we best get going then, shall we?” Without even a glance toward Atlas, Samwell and the crew began walking up the gangplank to board the ship.

“I don’t understand…” Atlas called up to them. “ Valor is ready to sail?”

“She’s always ready,” was the only answer he received before the sun began its ascent on the horizon.

Once aboard the ship, Atlas looked back toward his kingdom as the wind tousled his dark hair around his face. His eyes fell to the castle, to the highest spire, where he knew the king’s chambers were. He grimaced, repulsed by the man he called Father .

“We’re coming, Drae.” The words left him in a whisper as he left Lephyrin for the first time on his own terms, defying the orders of his king.