Three years had passed since the signing of the Treaty of Fallen Steel.
The echoes of war had faded from the mountains, yet their shadow still lingered in every heart within the Empire of Begonia.
In the third winter after the Emperor's marriage to the Princess of Kaalvethra, now crowned as the Empress of Begonia, the royal palace was shrouded in light. Bells tolled from the highest spires, and banners of gold and crimson waved in the frozen air. Another prince had been born.
He was named Aarion Begonia, the fourth prince of the Empire, yet the one chosen to stand as heir to the throne. His bloodline tied two great powers together — Begonia and Kaalvethra — and for that reason alone, his name was written in gold.
The people rejoiced, calling him the symbol of peace and unity, the bridge between two worlds that once burned in war. But inside the marble halls of Begonia, that joy found no place.
The Emperor Magnar Begonia hated the child — not quietly, not within himself, but openly and without restraint. His hatred was no secret. It lived in his voice, in his glare, in every word he spoke when the boy's name was mentioned. He despised Aarion for what he represented, for every reminder that he had not won the war but bowed to its end.
The Emperor's rage was unending, his disgust absolute. He never called Aarion "son," never once looked at him with pride. Every time the boy crossed his path, Magnar's expression hardened, as though the very sight of him poisoned the air.
Only the Empress of Begonia loved him. She held him close, shielded him when she could, and smiled through tears that no one saw. But love could not drown hatred, and her warmth could not silence the fire burning in her husband's heart.
And so the child grew, under the weight of both love and loathing.
Aarion Begonia, heir to the throne, lived not as a blessing, but as a reminder — the living symbol of his father's greatest humiliation.
---
Aarion Begonia was not only hated by his father.
He was hated by his brothers and sisters as well.
The Emperor Magnar Begonia had three wives.
The first was Serena Rhaven, a cunning woman from the Duchy of Rhaven in the South.
Rhaven was a land of rivers and coasts, known for its culture, beauty, and warm climate.
The people of the South were skilled in trade, diplomacy, and persuasion, and Serena was no different. She could manipulate anyone and twist any situation to her favor.
She gave birth to the first prince Kaedric, the third prince Daeron, and the second princess Maeryn.
Her children followed her example and despised Aarion just as she did.
The second was Aethea Dravencourt, a strong and proud woman from the Duchy of Dravencourt in the West.
Dravencourt was a land of hills, forests, and cold winds, its people known for their strength and self-reliance.
Aethea did not care for what others thought of her and raised her children to live the same way.
Her children hated Aarion not because of their father, but because they believed he had been given something he did not deserve.
Aethea gave birth to the second prince Levanor and the first princess Selira.
The third was Elyndra Kaalvethra, the Empress of Begonia.
She gave birth to the fourth prince Aarion, who was declared the heir to the throne.
Aarion was hated by the Emperor, by Serena's children, and by Aethea's children.
In the grand palace of Begonia, Aarion lived among scorn.
He was heir to the empire by title, yet treated as an outsider by his own family.
Everyone in the empire hated Aarion — his brothers, his sisters, his father, even his stepmothers. Only his mother loved him.
---
Time passed, and Aarion grew. Now he was six years old.
In all those six years, he had received only two pieces of news from Kaelmont.
The first had come when Aarion was one year old. The Empress of Begonia had received word that Rhaelia of Ironvale had given birth to her son, Alaric.
And now, when Aarion had turned six, another message arrived from Kaelmont — this time, a darker one.
Rhaelia of Ironvale was dead.
With this news, the Empress grew worried. She feared what might happen to her son in a palace filled with hatred and envy.
To protect him, she decided to send him away — under the pretense of education.
She sent him to the Alliance of Swords, as it held the greatest academy in all the lands — built and governed by the Seven Kingdoms.
It was a place that taught not only knowledge but also martial arts, swordsmanship, and many other disciplines.
The Empress had also tried to save the child of her friend, but she could not.
Her attempt was blocked by the new Duchess of Kaelmont, the first wife of the Duke, who refused to let the boy go, claiming she would take care of him herself.
And so, the Empress failed to save him.
Before Aarion's departure, she told her son that once he returned, he must save the boy in her place. She told him to become strong — strong enough to protect the people he loved and cared for.
Though Aarion did not want to leave his mother, he had no other choice.
He could either remain in the empire, living each day in fear for his life, or go to the academy to learn, grow, and one day return strong enough to protect those who needed him.
He chose the only path left to him.
He went to become strong — to gain strength that would one day allow him to stand against everything that had ever tried to break him.
---
With the help of his mother, Aarion began his journey toward the Alliance of Swords.
But even reaching there was not easy.
The journey from Begonia to the distant lands of the Alliance took months, passing through mountain passes, forests, and foreign borders. The royal carriage moved with caution, escorted by imperial guards, yet every shadow felt like an enemy's blade waiting to strike.
On his way to the academy, Aarion was attacked by assassins who tried to kill him.
Who sent them — no one knew. The enemies of Aarion were everywhere, and the shadows around him grew thicker with every passing day.
He did not know who truly wished for his death.
Was it his father, unable to stand his existence any longer?
His brothers, eager to claim the throne for themselves?
Or someone else entirely, hidden behind the mask of loyalty?
The thought never left his mind.
Even the food prepared by his own guards brought him fear. He could not trust them, for they were not his guards — they were guards of the empire.
And the empire wanted to erase its disgrace, no matter the cost.
Each night, he slept with one eye open, the cold wind creeping through the cracks of his carriage, the sound of steel echoing in his thoughts. His mother's last words repeated endlessly in his mind — become strong, protect those you love.
The further he traveled, the more danger followed.
There were ambushes in the woods, arrows that flew from nowhere, blades that struck in the dark. Some of his escorts died defending him, while others vanished, their loyalty uncertain.
And then came the betrayal.
Aarion discovered that even his guards — the men sworn to protect him — were part of the plan.
When night fell near the border of the Alliance, they turned against him. The boy who carried the title of heir became prey to the very soldiers who bore the banner of Begonia.
But fate was not finished with him yet.
Through the chaos and fear, Aarion ran.
He fled into the forest, leaving behind the burning torches and the bloodstained banners of his escort. He ran until his lungs burned, guided only by the faint memory of his mother's voice.
Days passed before he finally crossed into the lands of the Alliance.
Wounded, hungry, and alone, he followed the road that led to the academy — the one place where his mother had hoped he would be safe.
And after all the fear, the blood, and the betrayal, Aarion Begonia, heir to the Empire of Begonia, finally reached the Academy of the Alliance of Swords.
