Chapter one

The tip of an arrow grazed near my left ear, causing me to take a startled step back. I quickly
sought cover behind the nearest oak tree, straining to listen for any sign of her presence
nearby. Suddenly, a branch snapped to my right. Reacting instinctively, I drew my sword
from its sheath attached to my back and swung it as fast as I could.
“Ethan!” Coral exclaimed, who crouched at the last second to evade my attack. “That was a
lethal swing.”
I chuckled. “Says the one who shot an arrow dangerously close to my ear.”
“I'm your training partner, so I anticipated that you’d dodge it.” she retorted, sweat glistening
on her face. “Plus, it wasn't travelling that fast. Not like your sword!”
A smirk crossed my face. “Well, I'm your training partner too, so I knew you’d avoid it.”
She smiled, shaking her head, “You're unbearable.”
A smile played on my lips as I mirrored her gesture, and pointed towards the weathered
bench nestled beneath a sprawling willow tree. We walked in comfortable silence, a quiet
familliarity that spoke volumes. Reaching the worn wood, we sank down, the soft sigh of the
leaves constant murmur in our ears.
Here, in the heart of Araloria's ancient forest, a timeless sanctuary unfolded. This island
kingdom held few places as old or as revered. The towering sentinels of oak and cedar
whispered secrets on the wind, their gnarled roots like the clawed hands of time clutching
the earth. Sheltered beneath their emerald embrace, creatures rarely glimpsed elsewhere
thrived—living testaments to the forest's enduring legacy. Sunlight, speared through the
dense canopy, casting a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow on the verdant floor. Each
ray painted a mosaic of warmth on the lush carpet of ferns and moss, a masterpiece crafted
by nature's own hand.
A nearby stream added a sweet melody that healed the mind. It is said that each droplet of
water that fell indicated that a part of the soul became repaired. Honestly, I always liked to
believe this legend.
My gaze drifted to some birds who were building their nest as they worked in amazing
coordination. The male picked the twigs and grass, and the female added feathers and fur to
make their future home more comfortable.
I put my sword on my lap and started polishing it. When I first chose this weapon, I had to
name it as part of a ritual. At last, I decided on Phoscurial—it means the combination of
brightness and darkness. It had a bright silver hilt, where the two first letters of my name
were engraved in gold, and a deep black blade that absorbed light in a way that was utterly
fascinating and magical. You could bring any type of light—fae, wizard, royal—and it will not
be reflected. Phoscurial was crafted by one of the most professional blacksmiths that I know.
He was none other than Coral's father.
Abruptly, a memory of something I heard earlier in the morning came rushing to my mind.
I turned to face Coral. “I heard when I was coming here to meet you that your father returned
safely.” and I added cautiously “Is this true or, you know, it's just a rumour?”
Joy filled her wave-like pupils “Yes. he returned yesterday.” However, as I expected, that
happiness quickly faded from her face “Eth, I don't want him to start disappearing like this. I
really missed him this time. Five years is a long period of time, isn't it?”
I tried to hide any trace of pity from face that could threaten to anger her. “Yeah. It is. And
how is he now?” I said in an attempt to lift her spirits.

1
“He is fine.” She answered “Tired of course, but he is proud of what he accomplished.”
“If I remember correctly, he went to showcase and sell his work, right?”
“Exactly, and this is what took him all of this time to return.” She explained, a hint of pride in
her tone. “At first, he planned to visit just two kingdoms, but he decided at the last moment
that he would also go to the other two. And, as you know, each one of them is heavily
guarded, especially the fifth island—even more so than Araloria—so there has been lot of
complications to enter their borders and to start selling goods.”
“I hope that at least his efforts didn't go in vain.” I said sincerely. His swords, bows, spears,
and other weapons are the best in the market, expensive, yes, but they are totally worth it.
They are crafted from the most precious metals from all over the world, which was another
reason why he traveled so much. But this also meant that he couldn’t be home most of the
time. Consequently, Coral lived with her stepmother and stepsister. From what she confided
in me, they were kind enough, but it wasn’t the same as having your biological family
around. There were subtle neglects, whether intentional or not, that left Coral feeling
invisible.
“The next time you talk with your dad,” I requested, “can you tell him I need his advise on
something?”
“Advise?” She raised an eyebrow, skepticism lacing her voice.
“It's just about Phoscurial.” I explained. “The handle is getting a little bit loose, and I’m
thinking of replacing it. But I want to ask him first what type of materials are necessary to
ensure it won’t affect the sword’s balance.”
“Sure, no problem.” she promised.
We fell in silence again and I glanced at the sky, trying to figure out the time. A familiar
sound washed over me—the rhythmic beat of drums, each thump marking a quarter of the
day that had passed. Two beats echoed—noon. I needed to return to the city for lunch, but
not before a cleansing dip in the castle baths.
“Did you hear the drums already?” I asked, wiping sweat from my brow.
Coral chuckled. “Always aware of the time, aren't you? Especially when it means going
home early.”
I shrugged. “Just don't want to be late. My siblings are coming.”
Rising to my feet, I started to walk, Coral following close behind, her crimson hair trailing like
a banner. She was among the rare friends I had who valued me for who I was, not my
father's crown. We'd known each other since childhood, bonded by the scars left by the War
of the Five. Both of us had lost someone irreplaceable.
“Ethan!” Coral called out, a hint of annoyance in her voice. I figured it wasn’t the first time
she'd addressed me directly and gotten a lukewarm response.
Turning back, I offered a bland, “What?”
“Were you even listening to what I was saying?” She pressed
Taking the safest route, I lied with a smile plastered on my face. “Of course.”
Coral sighed, that uncanny ability of hers to see through my flimsy facade flickering. I still
didn’t understand how she did it, nor how she managed to tolerate my blatant lies. “I said
tomorrow is the tenth anniversary of the signing of the Peace's Act. Just a reminder in case it
slipped your mind.”
The smile vanished from my face as quickly as it appeared. My steps resumed, leading me
towards the towering castle gates. “Happy tenth anniversary, then. Enjoy the celebration.”
Coral reached out to stop me, her grip stronger than I anticipated “Eth, we talked about this.
You're the prince, and you have to be there, regardless of your feelings. Don't you remember
what your father did to you last year when you skipped it?”

2
Anger threatened to bubble up, but I bit back the harsh retort that clawed its way up my
throat. Instead, I pulled my hand away coldly. “No one can force me to attend.” I muttered.
Besides, none of them would understand. Even Coral. Even my siblings. They weren't there,
that final day in the War of the Five, when the so-called noble soldiers took my mother
captive, tortured her in front of me, forcing me to watch. Witnessing them drop her lifeless
form onto the battlefield…
I shuddered, slamming the memory shut.
“Thank you for the invitation.” I added sarcastically, pushing open the heavy castle doors.
“Eth, wait! You should be present because…” She started to say something, but trailed off as
her eyes darted toward the male figure now standing before me. It was my dad, the king.
Despite his age, pushing ninety by most accounts, he carried himself with an air of authority,
wisdom, and an undeniable power that chilled even the bravest souls. Fear was a tangible
thing here, cloaked in whispers and a thousand watchful eyes. I, despite being his son,
remained largely a stranger to him.
“I see you are trying to convince my youngest to join us in the festvies,” the king addressed
Coral, who bowed low, her complexion draining to an alarming shade of pale, “Unfortunately,
I think that he has other plans.’’
His cold gaze locked onto me. I shoved my trembling hands into my pockets “I can't come.” I
managed, my voice barely above a whisper
My father used an icy tone send chills down the spines of his fiercest enemies. “And why is
that?”
I couldn't meet his gaze. My throat felt tight, the atmosphere thick with anticipation. The
room, filled with servants trying their best to appear inconspicuous, fell silent. All eyes were
on me, waiting for the inevitable explosion. Seconds stretched into a seemingly endless
eternity before the King finally spoke again, a hint of anger shadowing his features.
“Son,” he began, “tomorrow is the celebration, and as the prince, you will attend.”
The pronouncement hung heavy in the air. I knew arguing would be futile. Frustration
bubbled within me, threatening to erupt.
“With all due respect, father,” I began, forcing my voice to remain steady, “perhaps my
presence would be a painful reminder of what was lost.”
A muscle twitched in my dad’s jaw, betraying the impatience simmering beneath the surface.
"The past cannot be changed,” he stated curtly.
“Father—”
“Enough!” he boomed, silencing me instantly. “Don't you dare defy my orders.” He snorted, a
sound devoid of humor. “It’s your duty and you will not disappoint me. That is, if whatever
you're doing is more important”. His words dripped with condescension.
The barb hit its mark. My grip tightened on my hidden fists. “As you wish, my king,” I finally
agreed, my voice laced with bitterness.
“Very well,” the king said, his voice softening a fraction. “I have affairs of state to manage.”
He eyed me with disdain. “Clean yourself up, boy. A stench like yours wouldn't be tolerated
even in the stables.”
The insult stung, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. With a silent nod, I
brushed past him and stormed out of the grand hall. Coral followed close behind, her worried
gaze fixed on me.
“Ethan, are you alright?” she asked softly when we were out of earshot. I stopped, taking a
deep breath to control the maelstrom of emotions churning inside me.
“No, Coral,” I admitted, my voice raw with barely contained anger. “I’m not.”

3
Pity showed in her face, but I stopped her before she could say something “I don’t need your
pity.” I spat out “I’m going to my room and don’t even try to follow me.”
A tear trickled down her face as she stayed silent, her empathetic silence somehow worse
than any words. With a heavy heart, I retreated to my bedroom located at the far corner of
the main hall. I slammed the door shut, the resounding thud echoing through the vast
emptiness. An emptiness that couldn't be filled.

4
Chapter two

I let the bathtub fill with water until it started leaking from the sides. The contact of cold water
with my bare skin was a sensation that I didn't know I needed until I experienced it. I closed
my eyes and let the thoughts destroy me from the inside. I recalled each word he said, each
gesture he made, each stare he holded, until I started imagining scenes and situations that
didn't happen. I imagined what would have happened if I didn't accept to attend. Would he
have threatened me more. Would he have let me stay if I pressed. And why did I accept in
the first place? Was I scared? Yes, of course I was. He's the king. He could do anything. He
could drag me from my room while holding me from my hair if it was needed. But I'm the
prince. I, too, have some sort of authority. I'm not a child anymore that needs to do what he's
asked to. I'm nineteen. I can do what I want. Nonetheless they all act as if I'm just a servant
here who doesn't have an opinion.
I stayed in the bath until the water turned warm. I got up and wore my formal clothes, which
were an emerald colored jacket, with a short collar and reaching the waist, made from the
finest silk present in our kingdom that our weavers could produce. It felt smooth against my
skin, and comfortable at shoulder level. This jacket had gold accented buttons, with some
subtle details. Like the very precise circular geometrical cutting. But the most intriguing detail
was hidden—the Aralorian emblem formed by aligning all the five buttons in a straight
vertical line. Underneath it, I chose a white shirt that hugged my upper body perfectly. For
the lower half, I wore knee-length loose pants that had delicate circular patterns in yellow. At
last, I added a black leather belt that finished the outfit.
I saw myself in the mirror to ensure that everything was good. The stranger that stood in
front of me barely resembled me. He was regarding me with deep green eyes that were now
shadowed with anger, instead of its bright counterpart. The reflection confirmed what I
thought—I had lost some weight in many parts of my silhouette, noticeably my face became
thinner and my chest more defined. All of that was thanks to the training with Coral, which
was a good thing, because I needed to be in good shape to participate in the tournament
planned to be next month. All that was left now to be ready was to brush my usually straight
dark hair. These last few days it has gotten really messy full of wild curls. I picked up the
comb and let out a frustrated sigh when I almost dropped it to the floor. Each stroke felt like a
battle, and each strand that was straightened felt like victory.