—8 Years Ago (Before the Massacre)
THE VEYRION TERRITORY: Duskwatch
Kael Veyrion, age eight, was the first and only son of the Northern Duke—head of House Veyrion, the most powerful family in the Kingdom of Eirenthal. For generations, the Veyrions had been hailed as heroes, known across the realm for slaying monsters, taming wild lands, and even holding their ground against dragons.
That morning, Kael ran down the marbled halls of the estate, his small boots echoing with every step.
A few maids along the corridor paused and bowed with warm smiles.
"Oh, young master Kael—please, no running!"
"He's always full of energy," one laughed.
Kael grinned and waved. "Hello, Anita! Hello, Jenny! Hi Kate!"
The maids laughed, smiling even wider. He wasn't a genius like the noble children in other houses. But he was kind. Joyful. Loved. And that was what mattered.
Today, he was excited—he had drawn something for his father and couldn't wait to show him.
When he reached the grand door to the duke's office, two guards in silver armor stood at attention.
"Young master," one said, smiling down. "Are you here to see the lord? He's in a meeting right now."
"A meeting?" Kael blinked. "Why?"
"The king is visiting," the other guard said with a stiff expression.
Kael tilted his head. The king?
He'd heard about him from his mother. She always said the king respected their family. But if that was true… why did everyone's faces go tense when his name came up?
Even the soldiers didn't look happy.
Before Kael could ask, the heavy doors opened.
And out stepped a man.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Blonde hair, slicked back. Piercing blue eyes. He looked barely older than his twenties, but his presence weighed like armor. He wore no crown, yet his aura screamed power.
Kael froze.
The man looked down and smiled. "You must be Kael."
He reached out and gently ruffled the boy's hair.
Kael's throat tightened. He couldn't speak.
"You're shy," the king chuckled. "I have a son about your age. Maybe one day, the two of you will become friends."
"Kael!"
A voice cut through the air.
Kael turned to see his mother, Lady Seraphyna , rushing down the corridor. She scooped him into her arms and stepped back, bowing her head.
"My deepest apologies, Your Highness," she said, her voice composed but cold.
The king smiled politely. "No need to apologize, Lady Seraphyna. I only wanted to meet the little sun of the North. Perhaps, one day, our families can share a stronger bond. Right, Kael?"
Kael looked up at his mother.
Her face said everything. She wasn't smiling.
Kael turned back to the king.
"Mister," he asked quietly, "are you a bad person?"
The hallway went still.
The king blinked.
"Kael, don't say such things,"His mother whispered, tightening her grip.
But the king only smiled.
"It's alright," he said, kneeling slightly to look Kael in the eye. "That's an interesting question. Why do you ask, young one?"
"B-Because I don't like bad people," Kael said, voice shaking. "I want to become a hero… like my great-grandfathers."
The king's smile didn't fade. "Ah, I see. That's a noble dream. As for your question… am I a bad person?"
He leaned closer, voice calm and unsettling.
"For me? No. I think I'm doing what's right.
But for others… I might be bad. Or good. Or both."
Kael blinked, confused. The words didn't make sense.
His hands curled into his sleeves, eyes dropping. "I… I don't understand."
The king tilted his head.
"But tell me, Kael… do you see me as a good person?"
Kael looked up.
And then he saw it.
Behind the king—an illusion, or something deeper—loomed a monstrous aura. A beast made of energy, coiling with shadow and menace. It had many heads, like a serpent hydra, twisting in silent wrath.
The sheer weight of it sent a shock down Kael's spine.
He trembled. His throat tightened.
Then he screamed.
"Waaaaaaah!"
He buried his face in his mother's chest, sobbing uncontrollably.
"That's enough, Your Highness."
A deep voice echoed from the hall.
Duke Aldric Veyrion stepped into view, cloak billowing behind him. His tone was firm. Protective.
"Don't threaten my family."
The king turned slowly, the beastly aura vanishing like mist.
He smiled, unbothered. "Alright. Alright. I'll stop."
As he walked past Aldric, his tone dropped to something colder. "Remember to keep that necklace, Veyrion."
With that, the king strolled away down the corridor, guards falling in step behind him.
Kael, sniffling, turned his head and noticed something in his father's hand—a necklace. Red and faintly glowing.
He didn't know what it was. And he didn't ask.
Aldric crouched beside him and gently patted his head. His smile was warm, but tired.
"See, son? That's what happens when you don't have power. People look down on you."
"Dear!" Seraphyne snapped. "Don't say that to him."
Aldric shook his head. "I'm just being honest."
He stood, voice lower now. "If only the Ash Crow had accepted me… maybe things would've been different."
He clenched his fist, not even trying to hide the bitterness in his eyes.
Kael didn't understand everything, but he'd overheard things. Whispers from the maids. Gossip in the halls.
His father had been rejected—five times—by the divine beast of the Veyrion line because he was too weak and unworthy.
That's why Aldric never became a swordsman.
Instead, he buried himself in books, strategy, and court politics. And Kael—small and quiet—decided he would do the same. He would prove that strength wasn't everything.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment.
"I drew this…" he said shyly, holding it up. "It's us. You and Mom."
Aldric took it. Smiled.
"What's this, to cheer me up?" He ruffled Kael's hair. "That's my boy. Maybe there is some talent in this family after all."
His mother laughed softly. Aldric joined in.And Kael—just for a moment—felt happy.
But happiness never lasts forever.