WillIt missed. Again.Frustration welled up in Clyde’s chest. This was the twelfth time, and each failure felt heavier than the last. He dropped the bow to the ground, tears threatening to spill.“I can’t do it!” he exclaimed, his little voice quivering. “I’ve tried so many times, and I keep failing!”From behind, a familiar, commanding voice broke through his despair.“Come now, my boy—why give up so easily?”It was his father. The Emperor. Dressed in regal robes but with a warmth in his eyes that cut through the young prince’s frustration, he stooped down to retrieve the discarded bow and arrow.“Failure is not the end,” his father said, kneeling to meet Clyde’s gaze. “It’s just another step toward success. If you stop now, how will you know which attempt would have been the one to hit the mark?”Clyde looked at his father, his young mind grappling with the weight of those words.“Here,” his father continued, gently placing the bow back in Clyde’s hands. “Take it again. Look throug

The Mission. One Might Wonder... Why did Clyde have to go undercover in the first place? And why was it so disastrous for him to reveal himself before it was time? It all began with whispers in the Emperor's court. Someone—a traitor in their midst—had been feeding vital information to the insurgents. Every strategy, every move Zizou Empire planned in secret, reached enemy ears before the warriors could strike. The insurgents, a coalition of fragmented factions, somehow stayed ahead despite Zizou’s advanced weaponry. It was as though they were always ten steps ahead, slipping through the cracks of their defenses like water. The Emperor and his Commander-in-Chief were furious. The Council of Seven Lords—the most trusted advisors of the empire—were suspected, but no accusations could be made without proof. As the leaks worsened and the insurgents grew bolder, the Emperor turned to Clyde, his son, a leader forged in fire and loyalty. But the task came with a warning: If you fail, you

Promise Bells.Clarissa sat with her legs tucked under a blanket, the weight of the night pressing in around her as she absentmindedly sipped her coffee.The warmth did nothing to soothe the ache in her chest—the relentless replay of memories she couldn’t escape. The man who once had her heart, the man who once promised her a future, now felt like a ghost.Clyde Tesslar—or rather, Clyde Darkfang—his name echoed in her mind like a cruel reminder of what she’d lost.The mysterious janitor with sharp, almost piercing green eyes and a calm, almost ethereal demeanor.His smile had always been warm, almost disarming. She remembered how it had first captivated her, how his presence had felt like something more than the menial work he pretended to do.He had the build of someone who should have been a leader, not a servant.Why had he come to OLR in the first place? She had never understood it fully, but she had believed him when he spoke about the life they could build together.Now, as the

The Trial Of ShadowsAt dawn, Clyde stood beneath the towering arches of the Council Chamber, the faint light filtering through stained glass windows casting fractured patterns on the obsidian floor.The seven Lords sat in a crescent formation, their expressions veiled behind layers of tradition and authority. At the center, the Emperor watched with cold, unyielding eyes, his presence commanding silence.Lord Lythos stepped forward, his dark robes trailing behind him like a shadow. From within his sleeve, he revealed an ancient scroll, the wax seal of the Empire unbroken. He unfurled it with deliberate precision, his voice carrying the weight of generations.“Young Lord Clyde, heir to the Empire, the Council decrees that your trial shall be the Trial of Shadows. This is not a simple task but a crucible to test your loyalty, resolve, and strength. Fail, and you are unfit to rule. Succeed, and the Empire’s future may rest in your hands.”His words echoed in the chamber, their gravity pa

In his room, Clyde sat by the window, a radiant smile on his face as relief washed over him. The artifact he’d risked so much to retrieve was finally secure, and for now, he was home. But his gaze wandered beyond the palace grounds to the horizon, his mind tugged back to Marula and the unfinished mission awaiting him there.A soft creak of the door interrupted his thoughts. Danielle stepped in, composed as always. Clyde turned to her with a warm smile, a rare softness lighting his features.“Young Master,” she greeted, dipping into a respectful curtsy.Instead of replying, Clyde stood and enveloped her in a firm, unexpected hug.“Your bravery and courage have always kept me going,” he said sincerely. “Thank you for being such a supportive assistant.”Danielle froze, her breath catching. Clyde had never shown her this kind of affection before—except for that one time at the gala when they pretended to be a couple. But this felt real, unguarded. Her hands lingered awkwardly in the air,