I Became The Extra King With Seven Wives-Chapter 5: Lumiel’s Return
The royal castle of Helios was thrown into chaos which was a perfect word to describe the panic that had taken hold.
The newly crowned king, Lumiel Helios, had not returned.
It hadn’t taken long for Eliana to piece together the reason behind her son’s disappearance.
The empty bed. The guards’ and servants’ testimonies. The direction he had been seen walking.
Everything pointed toward the tower.
Toward the Flame of Helios.
He had gone to attempt the ritual.
The moment her mind accepted that truth, horror settled deep within her.
She knew him.
She knew her boy.
Lumiel wasn’t ready.
He wasn’t stable.
He was fragile.
He had fainted during his own coronation, for the gods’ sake—crushed beneath the weight of the crown.
And so, in the dark hours of the night, a terrible thought had taken root in her mind...
Lumiel hadn’t gone to the Flame to complete the ritual.
He had gone to end it all.
He had chosen death over the throne.
It had been a week.
Seven days of silence.
Seven days of torture.
The archives were clear, written plainly in ink.
Heirs who succeeded in their first ritual returned within a day, two at most.
Her husband, the previous king, had emerged from the tower after two days when he was seventeen.
But beyond three days...
No one who failed the ritual ever returned.
They had been consumed by the Flame.
Eliana knew this. She had searched the records herself, clinging desperately to any fragment of hope.
Yet she refused to accept it.
Day after day, she stood outside the tower, waiting for even the smallest sign of her son, of her first child.
Her only comfort, if shared misery could be called comfort, was her daughter Lenora.
Unlike her mother, Lenora had already begun grieving.
She did not share Eliana’s denial.
When the third day passed without any sign of her brother, she had broken down completely, crying until nothing remained.
She knew the truth.
Her brother had not been strong enough.
He never had been ready.
He had been kind, gentle even.
A boy who loved poetry and history and avoided conflict.
But kindness was not enough to face the Flame.
Like her mother, Lenora believed Lumiel had chosen the ritual as a glorified suicide.
And by all the gods, she resented him for it.
How dare he?
How dare he leave them like this?
Right after their father’s death?
How dare he abandon them to face a court of nobles who cared only for themselves, men who had been waiting for this very moment?
They were no longer waiting for a body.
Already, they gathered in the throne hall, their voices loud and eager as they discussed the kingdom’s future with an arrogance they had never shown while her father still lived.
It made her blood boil.
They didn’t even consider Eliana as a potential Queen Regent. To them, she was already finished, a grieving widow, a broken mother.
Both women understood exactly what was happening.
They could feel power slipping through their fingers like sand, their safety vanishing with it. The court circled like hyenas around a wounded lioness, waiting for the moment to strike.
And neither of them had the strength to confront it.
Marconius Helios had been a peaceful king. Some had called him soft, mocking his desire to resolve conflicts through peace.
But he had been strong where it mattered.
As a husband.
As a father.
He had been their shield.
His mere presence had kept ambitious wolves at bay.
His death had already shattered them.
But losing Lumiel barely two days later had destroyed what little hope remained.
The world was ruthless toward women without protectors.
Even if Lumiel had been insecure, even if he lacked confidence, his existence alone, the blood of the Sun flowing through his veins, had been a symbol none could openly challenge.
Now that he was gone, the final wall had fallen.
"I—I won’t accept this! I will never accept this!"
Eliana’s screams tore from her dry, hoarse throat as she knelt before the tower, her hands clawing at the dirt while tears streamed down her face.
She could not enter.
The wards would incinerate her before she took three steps.
So she remained at the boundary, begging.
Praying to Helios.
Praying to Apollina.
Praying to any god who might hear her.
"Please! Give me back my son! I beg you!"
Only silence answered.
"Mother..."
Lenora stood behind her, voice trembling as she watched her collapse.
Her own eyes, red-rimmed and exhausted, filled again with tears.
"Please! Anything but my son! Give him back to me!"
Lenora quickly knelt beside her, wrapping her arms around her mother’s shaking shoulders.
"I beg you... please... give him back..." Eliana sobbed.
It had been a week.
Lenora wanted to say the words.
They hovered at the tip of her tongue.
He was gone.
They had to move forward.
They had to survive.
But she couldn’t say it aloud.
Speaking it would make it real and she feared it would shatter both her mother and herself beyond repair.
She had to be strong.
Without a protector, they were no longer people in the eyes of the court but only assets to be traded, tools to be used.
Lenora understood this all too well.
She was of marriageable age, the last child of the previous king, a living seal of legitimacy for whoever forced her into marriage.
She would be hunted.
Cornered.
And she might have no choice but to accept it to protect her mother—the only family she had left.
Eliana, still held in Lenora’s embrace, lowered her empty gaze.
Her fingers trembled weakly against her daughter’s arm.
"Lenora... what has happened to us..."
"It will be fine, Mother..." Lenora forced the words out.
"So please... stay with me."
She tightened her embrace, silently begging her mother not to leave her too.
Eliana understood immediately.
Clarity flickered back into her eyes.
Seeing her normally cheerful, fierce daughter reduced to a trembling child broke something inside her.
She hugged her tightly, offering what little comfort she could.
Perhaps it was time to open her eyes.
To stop staring at what was lost and protect what remained.
She could not lose her last child.
She had to stay strong.
At least until Lenora was safe.
She had to—
Suddenly, the air shifted.
A wave of heat rippled through the atmosphere.
Both Eliana and Lenora pulled apart, heads snapping upward.
The Flame of Helios.
The miniature sun pulsed violently.
After Marconius’s death, it had dimmed like a dying ember.
Now it blazed with renewed ferocity, turning night into near daylight and illuminating the entire capital.
Then they saw it.
A spark of fire separated from the Flame like a falling star tearing downward along the tower before crashing into the ground with a thunderous impact that shook the earth beneath them.
Both women leapt to their feet.
They moved instinctively but stopped at the tower’s threshold.
The heat radiating outward would have reduced them to ash instantly.
Even Lenora, bearing royal blood, felt threatened by it.
They could only stand at the edge, squinting toward the crater.
Silence stretched endlessly.
Neither spoke.
Hope shone on their faces.
They held their breath.
Tears streamed down Eliana’s cheeks as she clasped her hands in prayer.
Then...
A wave of golden heat surged outward from the crater.
A hand appeared, gripping the broken stone.
It did not look entirely human.
It glowed, veins tracing patterns of liquid gold beneath the skin.
Slowly, a figure pulled itself free.
Lenora covered her mouth.
Eliana could not even breathe; tears of pure relief blurred her vision.
Standing within a trembling golden aura was a man.
Topless and transformed.
He was taller, leaner, the softness of his former body burned away, replaced by sculpted muscle visible through the shimmering heat.
His golden curls moved within the radiant aura, and his eyes burned with molten goldish amber light of the Flame.
Lumiel raised his hand, staring at it as if seeing it for the first time.
He looked down at his chest, at the golden runes engraved along his arm, pulsing with power.
He had awakened.
Successfully.
A faint smile spread across his lips.
Then his eyes rolled back.
He stumbled forward and collapsed headfirst into the crater.
