Six years had passed since Emperor Theron announced the birth of Prince Arthur, Aetherion's new hope. In the eyes of the public, Arthur was a spirited young prince, growing up under the empire's finest tutelage. However, only a select few knew that beneath the noble title hid a girl named Aria.
At the age of six, "Arthur" had grown into a cheerful and energetic child, always moving and curious about everything around her. Her bright laughter often echoed through the palace corridors, bringing a sliver of warmth amidst the lingering shadows of war. Despite this, the discipline instilled in her from a young age by the royal tutors had shaped her into an orderly and obedient figure. Every morning, before the sun fully rose over the eastern horizon, Aria was already training with swords under the best masters, her small body moving nimbly and swiftly, mimicking every movement with speed and precision. Beyond her skill with the sword, Aria also displayed an extraordinary talent for magic. Under the guidance of the palace mages, she quickly grasped various elements and easily cast simple spells, even showing potential for more powerful abilities in the future.
Beneath her cheerfulness and discipline, a hint of unspoken pride lingered. The constant praise and admiration she received for her exceptional talents in various fields, from martial arts to understanding war strategy, and now her rapidly developing magical abilities, slowly fostered a strong belief in her capabilities. However, this pride never took root in malice. Within her kind heart, Aria possessed a sincere desire to protect those around her, a legacy of Theron's upbringing and a sense of responsibility she felt, though not fully comprehending it, as the future "prince."
Physically, little "Arthur" was the embodiment of health and activity. Her slender body already showed small muscles formed from intense training. Her skin was fair, tinged with a slight flush from often being under the Sukabumi sun while practicing in the palace courtyard. However, her most striking feature was her eyes, a clear blue, as sharp as crystal and as blue as a summer sky. Her gaze often showed an intelligence beyond her years, yet sometimes also held the spark of childlike curiosity. Her hair was equally captivating. Golden blonde, as bright as the morning sun over the mountains, it grew long and flowed beautifully, almost reaching her waist. Although the palace servants often tried to style it into a more befitting princely fashion, in her daily life, especially during training or play, she often let her golden hair flow freely, moving dynamically with her every spirited movement.
Behind the facade of a promising young prince, Aria continued to keep her true self a secret, a burden she did not yet fully comprehend, while unknowingly preparing for the destiny that truly awaited her.
Meanwhile, under Lyna's care, Xarther grew into a quiet and cold child, though he regarded Lyna as his mother. He rarely spoke, yet in his heart lay a great sense of responsibility to protect the woman who had cared for him. His mind was far more mature than other children his age; he knew that Lyna would not have chosen to live in that remote place without a fundamental reason. Therefore, Xarther always trained his physical endurance and strength hard every day. However, a significant problem haunted him. Although he had once found old magic books in their house and studied them diligently, Xarther was completely unable to use magic. Frustration often overcame him when trying to recite the written spells, yet not a single spark of magical energy emanated from him. Could it be that I might find answers to my strangeness there? Or will other dangers await me?
Physically, Xarther had a striking and slightly intimidating appearance. His hair was jet black, growing long and often falling over his pale face. His eyes were an intense blood red, his gaze sharp and observant, as if capable of piercing through lies. Strange features began to appear on his body as he grew older, a subtle influence from Xarthos residing within him. Beneath both his eyes, thin dark lines appeared like natural tattoos, and similar patterns also began to appear faintly on his chest, forming mysterious carvings unnatural for a human child. Although he did not understand the origin of these marks, Xarther felt them as a part of him, something different and perhaps dangerous.
[...]
Although Aetherion managed to defend itself and even reclaim some territories, Emperor Theron did not return with a glorious victory. When his royal carriage entered the palace gates, the aura of exhaustion and injury emanating from the Emperor was palpable, even to Aria who had never seen him directly.
Since she was little, Theron had always sent letters to his "grandson," Prince Arthur. These letters were filled with tales of bravery, responsibility, and hope for Aetherion's future. Through that firm yet affectionate handwriting, Aria built an image of a valiant grandfather who deeply loved his kingdom. She loved Theron as she loved Lyna, and every report of the war moving further from victory filled her with anxiety.
Seeing her grandfather's carriage arrive slowly and the guards looking tense, Aria's heart sank. When Theron was helped down from the carriage, supported by several soldiers, Aria couldn't restrain herself. She ran towards him, ignoring the surprised gazes of the servants and guards.
"Grandfather!" she exclaimed worriedly, tears welling up in her blue eyes as she saw the bandages wrapped around Theron's arm and his pale face.
Theron, surprised to see the figure of "Arthur" suddenly approaching, gave a weak smile. "Arthur... my grandchild." His voice was hoarse. He reached out his uninjured hand and gently stroked Aria's cheek.
"Grandfather is hurt," Aria said, her voice trembling, looking at the bandages on Theron's arm with her tearful blue eyes. "What happened?"
Theron sighed deeply, trying to hide his pain. "Just a minor skirmish, my grandchild. Nothing to worry about."
"But... Grandfather's letters always told of victories," Aria said with a naive yet piercing tone. "Why now...?"
Theron looked into Aria's worried blue eyes. He saw not only the affection of a grandchild, but also remarkable intelligence and sensitivity. He knew he couldn't hide everything.
"War is difficult, Arthur," he said in a gentler voice. "Our enemies are strong, and their darkness is deep. There are times we win, and times we must retreat to regroup."
Aria clenched her small fists. "The demons... they did this to Grandfather. They destroyed Aethelgard. I... I hate them!"
The hateful tone in Aria's usually cheerful voice pierced Theron's heart. He saw the same seeds of hatred that once burned within him now beginning to grow in his grandchild.
"Hatred is a double-edged sword, Arthur," Theron said with a warning tone. "It is true, the demons have caused unspeakable suffering. But do not let hatred blind you. We must fight with a cool head and a steadfast heart, not with burning anger."
"But they hurt Grandfather!" Aria retorted, tears now starting to fall. "I want to avenge him! I want to make them pay!"
Theron stroked Aria's cheek again. "I know, my grandchild. I know. But revenge is not the path of a true hero. Our strength lies in protecting what we love, not destroying what we hate." He took a deep breath. "You are Aetherion's hope, Arthur. Remember that. Train your strength, sharpen your mind, and one day, you will be the one to lead the light against the darkness."
Aria looked into her grandfather's weary yet hopeful eyes. Although her heart was still filled with worry and the newly sprouted seeds of hatred, she nodded slowly. "I understand, Grandfather. I will become strong. I will protect Aetherion."
Theron gave a faint smile, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the despair of war. He knew that the burden he carried was now slowly beginning to be borne by his grandchild, "Prince Arthur," who held a great secret behind her identity.
Even though Aria was not his blood, not the true grandchild who carried the Aetherion lineage, Emperor Theron loved the girl with a deep affection. From the first time he saw her as a baby, a survivor of the Aethelgard tragedy, Theron felt a strong bond, a responsibility that transcended mere imperial duty. He saw in Aria not only the hope for the kingdom's future, but also a child who needed guidance and love, a replacement for the son and grandson he had lost. Every letter he sent, every tale of heroism he wrote, was filled with warmth and sincere hope for "Arthur." Seeing Aria's spirit, intelligence, and determination grow, Theron felt a sliver of light in the darkness of the ongoing war.
However, behind the sincere affection for Aria, a pang of longing and a gripping worry always lingered in Theron's heart. He could not forget Xarther, his true grandson, Artha's son who had also survived that terrible night. Every time he looked into Aria's bright blue eyes, he couldn't shake the image of Xarther's cold, mysterious red eyes. He wondered about his life in isolation with Lyna. Had he grown up healthy and happy? Had he inherited the magical talent of their lineage, or had the influence of the dark entity within him stolen everything?
Guilt often haunted him. Was his decision to hide Xarther the right one? Had he neglected his true grandson's fate to protect the kingdom with a lie? Every time he saw Aria training with the sword, every time he heard reports of her magical progress, he couldn't help but compare it to Xarther's potential that he had never seen. He longed for his grandson, the true blood heir of Aetherion, yet he also feared what he might have become under Xarthos's influence.
In the solitude of his nights in the war tents or behind the grand palace walls, Theron often pondered the fate of both children. He loved Aria, the girl he had raised as the kingdom's hope. But he also could not ignore Xarther, the hidden grandson, who might hold the key to Aetherion's future, either as its savior or its destroyer. The burden of his secret and the choices he had made felt heavier with each passing day, a thorn that constantly pricked amidst his struggle to save his kingdom.
[...]
A few days after his return, Theron summoned Aria to his study. The twilight of Sukabumi illuminated the room, casting long shadows on the walls. Aria, though still holding worry in her eyes, stood tall before her grandfather.
"Aria," Theron began, his voice soft yet filled with consideration. "It is time for you to develop your abilities further. This war... is far from over, and Aetherion needs a true hero."
Aria nodded, her eyes showing determination. "I understand, Grandfather. What must I do?"
"There is a place," Theron continued, reaching for a sealed scroll. "A hidden academy, a place where heroes are born and forged. Its location is secret, accessible only through an ancient portal. There, you will be trained by the finest masters in swordsmanship, magic, and strategy."
Aria's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "A hero academy? It sounds amazing!"
Theron gave a faint smile. "Indeed. I have written a letter of recommendation for you. You will depart in a few days." He reached for a silver locket with intricate carvings. "This will protect you, Arthur. May this locket guard you from ill intent and dark magic. Always remember the honor and courage of Aetherion."
Aria carefully accepted the locket, clutching it tightly. "I will not disappoint you, Grandfather."
Meanwhile, in the remote place where Lyna and Xarther lived, a white hawk landed on the window carrying a royal-sealed letter. Lyna carefully opened it and read its contents. Her eyebrows rose in surprise.
"Xarther," Lyna called, her voice slightly trembling. Xarther, who was training his physical endurance in the backyard, immediately approached her.
"What is it, Mother?" he asked with a cold yet concerned tone.
Lyna handed the letter to Xarther. "This... is an invitation. For you."
Xarther received the letter and read it intently. His expression remained flat, but a slight furrow appeared on his brow as he read about the hero academy.
"Hero academy?" he murmured.
"They say it's the best place to develop your abilities," Lyna explained, avoiding mentioning the Emperor or the Empire. "You will be trained by masters there."
Xarther was silent for a moment. "What abilities? I can't even use magic."
Lyna sighed. "Perhaps they can help you there. They also sent this." She took out a leather bracelet with a black obsidian stone in the center. "They say this will conceal... any kind of energy from you. Hopefully, it can also conceal... the other."
Xarther looked at the bracelet suspiciously. "Conceal? Why?"
"They didn't explain," Lyna answered honestly. "But perhaps it's to protect you there."
Xarther weighed the bracelet in his hand. Although he didn't fully understand, there was something in Lyna's tone that made him feel this was important. "Alright," he said finally. "I will go."
A few days later, in a remote forest shrouded in a thin mist, a swirl of bluish light appeared among the ancient trees. Aria, wearing simple yet elegant traveling clothes, stood before the portal with several royal guards. She looked back at the distant towering palace.
"Make sure Grandfather is alright," she instructed one of the guards before stepping into the portal. The light swallowed her, and the swirl vanished, leaving the forest silent once more.
In another distant location, amidst a thicket of ancient trees that exuded a mysterious aura, Xarther and Lyna stood before a similar portal. However, the swirling light before them emitted a dimmer color and felt more ancient. Xarther wore simple clothes and the black obsidian bracelet circled his wrist. Tears almost welled up in Lyna's eyes as she looked at Xarther's back. Go, my child. May fate be kinder to you than it was to your mother.
"Be careful there, Xarther," Lyna said with an unconcealable tone of worry.
Xarther nodded without looking at her. "I will be alright, Mother." He stepped forward into the portal, leaving Lyna alone in the silent forest. Emperor Theron's two grandchildren, separated by secrets and different destinies, were now heading to the same place, unaware that their paths would soon cross at the academy of heroes.
>