Chapter: Cell's Trials

Cell

As I prepared mentally for the combat trial, my thoughts churned through what lay ahead: 25 Interlopers and 25 Bellicose awaited me in the arena. The prospect wasn't daunting, not because of arrogance, but because of something far more compelling—a promise to be there for Shauna and our soon-to-be-born twins.

Shauna's presence was undeniable even in the crowded arena. Her silhouette was distinct, marked by her advanced pregnancy. Despite the media's relentless speculation, we hadn't officially confirmed the news of our twins. Tonight was supposed to be that night, contingent on my victory.

As I approached the arena, Torell gave me an unexpected nod of support. "We haven't seen eye to eye ever, but I really hope you win. She loves you." His acknowledgment of Shauna's feelings bolstered me.

"Thanks," I replied, focusing on the path ahead.

Hawk and Viper offered their encouragement as I stepped onto the sandy floor of the arena. "Ok, big brother, today you show us what you can do. Please don't kill anyone," Hawk half-joked, understanding both the stakes and my capability.

"They're watching how much power you wield. Show them what you've got," Viper added, clapping me on the back as we parted.

The arena was a blaze of light, the spectators a blurred sea beyond the first few rows. The announcer's voice boomed, introducing me: "Coming to the Arena, Cell, our potential King Regent."

The rules were clear and heavily skewed against me: no weapons to start with, dramatic displays of power were needed, and the objective was incapacitation, not death. The trial was designed not just to test physical prowess but to showcase control and restraint—qualities befitting a King Regent.

The battle commenced with a swift pace. An Interloper charged, a simple test, but quickly escalated as groups attacked in coordination. Using the strategies Hawk and Viper had drilled into me, I adapted my powers from lethal force to strategic incapacitation. Each move was calculated, designed to subdue without permanent harm—a balance I'd never had to strike before.

As the last few opponents circled, cautious and visibly wary, two Bellicose stepped forward from the shadows, their presence heavy with disdain. "You are not fit to be King," they declared, venom in their tone.

"Well, that's not what your Queen thinks," I retorted, goading them into action.

Their attack was ferocious, and for a moment, I was on the defensive, taking hits that drew blood and stirred the crowd into a frenzy. A lightning lasso caught me, its searing pain threatening to end my fight. But then, Shauna's face flashed across my mind—the woman who saw beyond the labels, who loved the man feared by many.

Fuelled by that image, I absorbed the lightning's energy and redirected it, a powerful discharge that knocked the attackers off their feet. One tried to rise, defiance in his eyes, but I was quicker, ending the confrontation with a decisive blow.

Exhausted, I barely stood to accept the announcer's declaration. "I would like to announce our future King and King Regent, Cell!"

The arena erupted in cheers, a sound foreign but exhilarating. For the first time, I wasn't an outsider but a champion embraced by the crowd. As I walked off, battered but victorious, I realized that beyond the physical trials, the true challenge would be navigating the path ahead as a leader, a partner, and a father.

They rushed me to the back where medical attendants quickly began to treat my injuries. However, the commotion outside escalated. I heard a surge of screams and shouts—Shauna was in trouble. I ran toward the noise, my body protesting with every step, but adrenaline fueled my movement. Torell intercepted me amidst the chaos, his face tense. "It's time," he said, his voice barely audible over the din.

Reporters swarmed around her, a sea of microphones and flashing cameras, making it impossible to reach her. Despite my exhaustion, I conjured enough energy to weave through the crowd with a burst of magic, creating a path directly to Shauna. She was visibly in pain, her face contorted in agony. Without a moment's hesitation, I scooped her into my arms and dashed towards the infirmary, Trevor trailing behind us, trying to field an onslaught of questions with a worried glance backward.

In the infirmary, the medical team attempted to administer pain relief, but nothing seemed to ease her distress. As the hours ticked by, I stayed by her side, holding her hand, whispering words of encouragement. Then, amidst her screams, our baby boy was born. The room filled with his piercing cry as the nurse whisked him away for cleaning.

The doctor's voice snapped me back to the moment. "You have to keep pushing. Your baby girl is a little smaller, so you're going to have to push for her," he instructed calmly. Shauna, exhausted and in pain, shook her head weakly. Kiser, gripping her right hand, and I, clutching her left, offered our support. "I can't do this," Shauna cried out in a moment of despair.

I leaned in, my forehead against hers, locking eyes with her. "Listen to me, you can do this. Come on, baby, give me our daughter," I urged, voice filled with both encouragement and desperation. She nodded slightly, gathering every ounce of strength left, and with a profound effort, she pushed.

Minutes later, the infirmary was filled with another, softer cry—the sound of our baby girl entering the world. She was perfect, a tiny reflection of her mother. I kissed Shauna, who was now visibly relieved and exhausted, and then walked over to where our children were being cleaned. Watching our son and daughter holding hands, a small, beautiful smile spread across Shauna's weary face—a moment of pure joy amid the whirlwind of emotions.

I looked over my sleeping children, their faces calm and innocent. As much as I tried, I couldn't shake the words my father had uttered during our tense meeting. Despite his many faults, a pang of uncertainty lingered—his warnings about the children had echoed eerily with the Corin's peculiar fertility myths.

Exhausted yet restless, I made my way to the prison where my father was held. The guards nodded as I passed, accustomed to my visits. "You did well, son," my father said without prelude, his voice soft but firm as he glanced at the pictures of his grandchildren I showed him. His usual smugness was absent tonight.

"Thanks," I responded, my voice thick with a cocktail of pride and apprehension.

"I know I've never done anything to make you believe I care about you, but I do. And not because I want out of here," he continued, his eyes not leaving the images. "I'm telling you this because something is coming. The seer warned me about evil forces."

"Stop with the lies," I snapped, skepticism lacing my words.

"No, listen. When have you ever heard of Corin having twins? It's unprecedented, son. Something is coming. We might need to use one of the kids to protect the Solar," he said, his tone earnest for once.

Dismissing his words as another one of his manipulations, I left him there and returned to the infirmary. The room was quiet, the only sound being the gentle breathing of Shauna and our children sleeping in their cribs. As I settled beside Shauna, her hand in mine, I let the peace of the moment wash over me.

My rest was short-lived. I awoke to a surreal scene: both babies floating mid-air, their eyes glowing—a stark red for my daughter, a soft blue for my son. They were throwing miniature lightning bolts at each other, giggling innocently at the chaos they caused. Panic gripped me as I lunged forward, pulling them into my arms. The room settled instantly, the objects dropping back into place with soft thuds.

The words of the seer, now impossible to ignore, rang in my ears. I left Shauna and the children in the care of the medical team and sought out the seer.

"It's been some time," she greeted, her eyes piercing as if she'd expected me.

"Skip the pleasantries. You know why I'm here," I said, getting straight to the point.

She nodded, her expression solemn. "The prophecy of twin royal children—one destined for destruction, the other for peace. Together, however, they harbor a potential for great evil."

"What should I do?" My voice was a whisper, heavy with the weight of impending decisions.

"Keeping them separated until their 21st birthday is the logical step. But I know you, and separating from your Queen and one child isn't an option for you," she said, her tone gentle yet firm.

"And if I stay?" I asked, my heart pounding.

"Evil is coming, and no one here is strong enough to fend it off. The children's powers will grow, perhaps beyond our control," she warned.

I left her with a heavy heart, returning to the prison to see my father. His smirk told me he knew I'd come to believe him.

"Dress up. Meet me at the palace walls in an hour. And don't try anything stupid," I threw the clothes at him and hurried back to the infirmary.

Staring down at my children, I was torn. My daughter, with her eerie red glow, seemed the more volatile of the two. Making a decision that tore at my soul, I carefully lifted her from her crib, her small hand gripping my finger with an innocent strength.

I met my father at the palace walls as dawn approached. With a heavy heart and my daughter in my arms, we fled the city, leaving behind everything I loved, driven by a desperate hope to protect them and the Solar.