The light of the summoning ticket glowed fiercely, and long shadows crept across the throne room as the fabric of space itself twisted around Solian. The air was filled with a heavy warmth, anticipation heavy in the atmosphere, as the ground beneath him hummed quietly.
Solian was in the center of it all, his heart racing, his lungs relaxed. It had been chosen. He had chosen. He had chosen Itachi Uchiha, that enigmatic and powerful shinobi of the Uchiha Clan. And now, the price of that decision was to be paid in totality.
He sensed the presence lingering in the air, the glittering power as a shape coalesced. A flash of blue light, glimmering like a star about to expire, grew in intensity until it was a blinding brilliance. For a moment, Solian could not look, his eyes blinded by sheer light. But no sooner had it begun than the light vanished, and a shape stood before him—dressed in darkness yet undeniable.
The man standing in front of Solian was tall, his dark black hair messy and hanging over his face. His eyes, however, were the sharpest feature—eyes smoldering with an unsettling serenity. The Sharingan, its red and impenetrable eyes staring back at Solian with a stillness of authority. Itachi Uchiha.
Solian's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, studying the man he had summoned. Itachi was everything he had hoped for: silent, composed, and enigmatic. But Solian could feel the weight of the man's past, the tragedy, the sacrifices etched in every fiber of his being. It was as though Itachi's presence carried the weight of a thousand battles—each one fought, each one endured.
"Itachi Uchiha," Solian spoke, his voice steady, yet filled with a hint of awe. "I have summoned you."
Itachi's eyes never left Solian, and for a long moment, the two stood in a silence that seemed to stretch on forever. It was the kind of silence that filled a room with unspoken words.
Finally, Itachi did speak, his words a gentle whisper, yet one that carried an unmistakable gravity. "You have made your choice, and now, I stand with you, since you have called on me."
The words were simple, but there was a depth to them that could not be denied. Itachi had seen firsthand the consequences of his decisions. Solian felt the depths of meaning that lay behind the words, the kind of comprehension reserved for one who had experienced tragedy.
"Why me?" Solian asked, curiosity getting the better of him. "What was it that made you decide to take my side?"
Itachi's gaze remained fixed on Solian, his eyes almost unreadable, like two dark pools of emotion that never quite reached the surface. He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward, the soft sound of his sandals barely audible against the cracked floor.
"I don't believe in power, or glory," Itachi said, his voice low but unyielding. "I believe in the future. I see potential in what you do—your drive is one that I have never witnessed before. You want strength, not for yourself, but to make a way where there has been none. That… resonates with me."
Solian felt the shiver down his spine. The way Itachi spoke to him, with such restrained confidence, was to let the man in front of him know that the man was not merely a tool to be utilized. He was not a man who blindly obeyed. Itachi was a thinker, a strategist, and a man who weighed each step before he took it. This was not a man who would blindly obey, but a man who would offer his wisdom, his power, and his leadership—if Solian could gain it.
"I understand," Solian said, his voice slightly softer now. "And what of the burden which you carry? Will you be able to follow me?"
Itachi's expression remained unchanged, but Solian noticed a flicker of something—perhaps recognition, or understanding—pass through his eyes. The silence that followed seemed to hang in the air like a dense fog, thick with unspoken truths.
I carry my burden because I must, Itachi answered. "But I have found that even burdens can be borne. You are not alone here, Solian. That is why I am here. To look on your way.".
The words weighed on him, like a burden lifted from his shoulders. Solian had borne his own burdens—burdens he had never realized the full extent of until this moment. He did not know if Itachi had spoken as a promise, a warning, or perhaps both. But a part of him awakened, a sense of duty, a greater realization of what it was to be a leader.
"I don't know what path I'm on yet," Solian admitted, his voice thoughtful. "But with you standing beside me… perhaps I'll discover. Together."
Itachi's gaze softened, though it was hard to tell if he truly agreed or if he was simply accepting his role. There was something profoundly reassuring about his presence, the way he carried himself with unshakable confidence despite the burdens of his past. It was the kind of stability Solian needed—someone who had been through the fire and still walked forward, unbroken.
"Good," said Itachi, his voice unbroken. "Then let us walk together."
The weight of his words settled over Solian like a cloak. With Itachi by his side, he felt a sense of calm he hadn't known before. But there was also a sharp clarity in the air—an understanding that their journey would not be easy. There would be sacrifices, conflicts, and battles ahead. But with Itachi's wisdom, his strength, and his unwavering resolve, Solian felt a renewed sense of purpose.
With the two of them standing together in the throne room, the guttering glow of distant fires creating shadows on the floor of stone, Solian could not dispel the feeling that the world was changing. Slowly, maybe, but inexorably.
And for Solian, meanwhile—The Riftflame King—the rest of his story was about to be written.