Page 7
In the Kingdom of Boro…
Inside the Golden Dragon Castle…
There was no longer a dragon.
Above the throne, where the ancient emblem had roared through the ages,
now hung a golden lion, its eyes not looking to the sky…
but down at those beneath it, as if weighing them… or awaiting the moment to devour them.
Beneath this emblem, the king sat.
Derek Scarface…
King of Boro after the fall of the Boro family.
His seat upon the throne was not comfortable,
but rather like a man sitting atop a history that had yet to be buried.
Beside him, Queen Kalyana Scarface,
her face calm… too calm,
as if she did not hide her emotions…
but no longer possessed them at all.
And around them…
stood the children.
Not like a family…
But like tools arranged around a single weapon.
Faltmar…
the mastermind, his eyes not looking at his father,
but beyond him… as if he already saw the throne vacant.
Rogan…
standing firm, his hand never leaving the hilt of his sword,
as if any conversation could turn into a battle.
Darius…
still… more than necessary,
his very presence a question.
Nairon…
smiling, but his smile did not resemble that of a child…
it resembled chaos before it begins.
Orla…
holding a book, reading while history was being rewritten before her.
Meriksa…
watching everyone…
as if she had already decided who would die first.
Liliara…
smiling…
for no reason…
and that was the most dangerous thing about her.
The king slowly raised his hand and said:
"Let us go… to the family council."
In a hall of black marble…
The hall was not dark,
but the light within it was strange…
as if it did not illuminate, but revealed.
Chandeliers hung from the ceiling,
resembling inverted skulls,
and the fire in the fireplace was not warm…
but red… and cold.
King Derek sat in his chair…
made from the remains of broken swords.
Not as a symbol of strength…
But as a warning.
Beside him, Kalyana,
her eyes fixed on an empty chair.
The chair whose name was never spoken…
yet everyone knew to whom it belonged.
The children sat around the long table.
The silence was not heavy…
It was intentional.
Then the king raised his hand
and spoke:
"It is time… to reshape the Kingdom of Boro in our image.
We do not want shadows of the past…
but knives in the light."
His words were not an announcement…
But a judgment.
Kalyana interrupted, her voice cold as ice:
"But the filth still surrounds us…
especially… that boy."
She did not say his name.
But hatred does not need names.
And suddenly…
The door opened.
Without announcement.
Without permission.
A young man entered.
Tall…
pale…
as if life had not passed through him… but over him.
Severn Nol.
His coat was dark,
and his eyes… did not belong to this place.
He walked forward slowly,
and stopped before the table…
without sitting.
He said:
"Let me save you the performance…
I will not ask for forgiveness,
nor will I compete with you for an inheritance I do not want."
Faltmar looked at him and said coldly:
"Then… why did you come?"
A brief silence…
Then Severn said:
"To remind the king…
that history is not erased by swords…
it is reborn in the ashes."
Kalyana suddenly stood,
her voice cutting through the hall:
"You are not one of us!"
But Severn did not raise his voice…
"And I never will be…
but some blood…
cannot be washed away."
Then he turned… and left.
No one stopped him.
No one dared.
The silence returned…
But this time, it was not the same.
Darius said, with deadly calm:
"Is anyone… from the Boro family… still alive?"
Meriksa muttered:
"Perhaps a girl… or a child who escaped one night…
who cares?"
Orla flipped a page in her book and said:
"Strangely… the prophecies did not speak of us as a ruling family…
but as a temporary one."
The king slowly raised his head…
"Prophecies…
are written… to be crushed."
Then he stood.
And left.
Leaving behind him…
A family that did not trust one another.
But waited for the moment to strike.
In a long corridor beneath the palace…
The walls were not silent.
They spoke…
through ancient carvings.
A battle.
The golden banners of Boro…
falling.
And the black swords of Scarface…
burning.
But the details…
were not victory.
A child… carrying a flame among the ruins.
A woman… stabbing a man embracing his son.
A black eagle…
tearing at a golden crown.
The truth was not triumph…
But betrayal.
And history…
was not written as it happened.
Two years later…
In the year 514 after the founding…
The moments were heavier than words.
Dairion…
bows, kissing his mother's hand.
Then he turns…
to Adam.
He looks at him for a long time…
as if that look… would remain.
He says:
"I will wait… to hear your name echo across the world…
Lord Nol."
Then he embraces him.
An embrace that did not feel like a farewell…
but like a promise not yet understood.
He steps back…
and shakes Lorian's hand.
And says:
"We will meet…
when fate withdraws… from its decision."
Lorian smiles…
but his eyes do not.
The city of Reincast…
the city of travelers.
Fog covers the ancient stones,
and the morning… was not light.
Adam…
walks.
His steps are steady…
but inside him… is not.
He carries his sword wrapped,
as if hiding something…
or perhaps… hiding himself.
An old woman's voice from a balcony:
"Adam…
are you still determined on this path?
Kael does not welcome those without a title."
He does not look at her.
He says:
"It is not the title… that opens doors…
but the one who knocks."
He boards the carriage.
Without farewell.
He looks back… only once.
He whispers:
"This time…
I will not be a follower…
but a maker."
The carriage moves…
And the road begins.
In the Kingdom of Solvira…
Ash fell…
like rain.
Barry…
stands atop a ruined tower.
Looking at a city…
half dead.
A voice behind him:
"You're leaving us?
Even though you know they will return?"
He laughs…
"I am not running…
I am searching for a wider battlefield."
He runs his hand over his burned arm…
"Kael…
does not extinguish fire…
it ignites it… in the right direction."
He jumps from the tower.
Without hesitation.
"I will enter it…
but I will not leave it… as they did."
In the Empire of Rein…
In a depth no one knows…
Asi sat.
Arranging her books…
as if she were arranging her fate.
An old woman's voice:
"Kael is not a library…
there… a person is not measured by their mind."
She replied calmly:
"And who said I am going to be measured?
I am going… to restore balance."
She closed her bag.
Stood.
And picked up the candle.
"And complete… what she could not."
She extinguished it.
And vanished.
Three paths…
Three goals…
And one kingdom…
Kael.
But what no one knew…
was that the paths… were not only leading to the kingdom.
But…
to a single truth.
A truth…
that would rewrite everything.