Chapter 8

Kenny's eyes snapped open, his breath ragged. His hand shot up to his throat, expecting to feel the wound, the warm rush of blood—nothing. He was alive.

His vision adjusted to the dimly lit room, the scent of burning wood mixing with the cool, damp air. He lay on a plush bed with thick, unfamiliar sheets. The stone walls and vaulted ceiling reminded him of an old fortress.

A woman sat beside him. Her skin was deep brown, her dark, coiled hair wrapped in a cloth. Her presence was calm, grounding.

“Welcome back,” she said gently.

Kenny blinked, confused, still shaken from his dream.

“You were having a nightmare,” she continued. “A rather intense one.”

A sharp voice cut through the room.

"You should have defended yourself! You should have killed her!"

Kenny turned toward the voice. A tall man with piercing eyes stood near the fireplace, arms crossed, it was Hernandez. His expression was severe, almost disappointed.

Kenny stared at him. "What?"

"The girl. Chidi, was it?" Hernandez stepped forward. "Who is she?"

Kenny's heart skipped a beat.

"How do you know that name?"

"Because the dream was a test"

"A test?" Kenny's stomach turned. "You mean that was fake? That dragon, the fire, Chidi—"

"All of it, with elements of your life." Hernandez confirmed. "A vision, induced by Adisa." He gestured to the woman beside him. "We needed to measure you."

Kenny felt his pulse rising. "Measure me?"

Hernandez nodded. "You did well—compassionate, quick-thinking, cool under pressure. All important traits. But," he narrowed his eyes, "as the wielder of the mantle, your life is the most important. You should have prioritized it."

Kenny clenched his fists. "So you wanted me to kill Chidi?"

"You should have defended yourself," Hernandez repeated. "Without hesitation."

Kenny shook his head. "This was insane! I don't even know where to start... The events of the last few days, I have tonnes of questions..."

Hernandez raised a hand. "One at a time."

Kenny pushed back the sheets and sat up. He felt sore but whole. His eyes flicked down to his arm. The mark was still there—dark, intricate, unlike anything he'd seen before.

He raised it. "What is this tattoo?"

"It goes by many names," Hernandez said, "but it is the Mantle of Leadership."

Kenny frowned. "Mantle of Leadership?"

"Yes," Hernandez said. "The ruler of the Ten Kingdoms wields the mantle."

"Ten kingdoms?" Kenny's head snapped up. "Did you say ruler?"

"Yes. Ten magical kingdoms—or Deciroy, for short. The wielder of the mantle is the ruler of Deciroy"

Kenny’s mind raced. This was a joke, right? It had to be.

Hernandez sighed, rubbing his temple. "It was our hope that we had more time to explain everything, but here is the gist: There exists a magical world, far from here. Like this world, it has many sovereignties, different and diverse, but they are united under one leader—the wielder of the mantle."

Kenny exhaled slowly. "You're telling me… this tattoo makes me the ruler of the magical world?"

"Not yet," Hernandez corrected. "You still need to be sworn in. But the mantle makes you the only candidate."

Kenny let out a bitter laugh. "This is ridiculous."

"Is it?" Hernandez challenged. "You have been chosen. And by our laws, that makes you the legitimate ruler of the Ten Kingdoms."

Kenny's skin prickled. "How does the mantle work? Why was I chosen? Who is the current ruler of this so-called 'magical world'? Where is this magical world? And why the hell me?"

Hernandez sighed. "What you need to understand now is that you have been chosen. And we must journey to Deciroy to claim your place on the throne."

Kenny's frustration boiled over. "And what if I don’t want it?"

"You don’t have a choice," Hernandez said flatly.

Kenny’s hands curled into fists. "Like hell I do! This isn’t my duty! I didn’t sign up for this!" His voice rose. "Why should I go and claim some position I’m not even sure is real?"

Hernandez's jaw tightened. "It is real, it should be obvious from what you've seen so far and whether you like it or not, it is your responsibility—"

"Enough," Adisa interjected, her voice calm but firm. She turned to Hernandez. "Leave. Give him space to process."

Hernandez scowled but obeyed, striding out of the room without another word.

Adisa turned back to Kenny, her expression softer. "I know this is a lot to take in," she said gently. "If you have any questions, I’ll answer what I can. But for now, take your time. Walk around, clear your head."

Kenny nodded stiffly. His mind was a storm of thoughts.

Once Adisa left, he swung his legs over the bed and stood. His body still felt heavy, like he was carrying something invisible on his shoulders. He didn’t know what was worse—finding out magic was real or finding out he was supposed to rule it.

He glanced at the door.

Screw this.

Without another thought, he slipped out of the room, moving quietly through the halls. The mansion was grand, with arched doorways and polished floors, but Kenny ignored the details. He needed air. He needed out.

Once he reached the front entrance, he didn’t hesitate. He slipped out into the cool night, the crisp air filling his lungs.

He could go home. Uncle Orvin’s house wasn’t far.

But another thought entered his mind.

Home.

Not Orvin’s house. His home. The place he was born. The town where he grew up.

For the first time in years, he thought of Chidi—not as a nightmare, not as a test, but as a friend he had once known.

He had to see if she was still there.

And so, instead of going back to the life he knew, Kenny turned his steps toward the past.

And toward the truth.