Chapter One:
A Child Among the Ruins
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In a world ruled by eight kingdoms, the echoes of ancient battles still lingered in every corner, whispered by the winds across the shattered lands. Among these realms, Tenebris had once stood as the greatest of all—an empire of unmatched power, feared and revered. Its shadow stretched far and wide, casting darkness even on the neighboring kingdoms. Yet, even Tenebris could not withstand the unity of its rivals.
When the other seven kingdoms realized the threat that Tenebris posed, they set aside their rivalries and formed an alliance. The war that followed was fierce and unrelenting. Kingdom against kingdom, swords clashed, fire consumed forests and villages, and armies fell in numbers too vast to count. After long months of relentless struggle, Tenebris finally fell, its armies shattered, its rulers slain or scattered. The world breathed a collective sigh of relief—yet the victory carried unforeseen consequences.
Among the kingdoms that had risen against Tenebris, one had stood as its true rival even before the war: Virtus. Known for its disciplined armies, formidable warriors, and powerful clans, Virtus had always been a thorn in Tenebris' side. Within Virtus, the most feared and respected of all were the members of the Mortavern clan—the Elite and the Eternal, whose prowess in combat and mastery of strange, arcane forces made them nearly untouchable.
During the war against Tenebris, many of Virtus' clans had fought valiantly alongside the kingdom's armies. Yet in the final battles, nearly all were slaughtered, leaving only a single clan standing: the Mortavern. Their survival, however, brought new dangers. Six of the seven victorious kingdoms, wary of Virtus' remaining strength, turned their eyes upon it. What had been an alliance against Tenebris quickly became a new threat to Virtus. The surviving Mortavern clan, already weakened and exhausted from the battles with Tenebris, now faced the wrath of six powerful kingdoms, all seeking to destroy what little remained.
It was in this chaos, on a night when the sky burned red with the fires of war, that Sargon came into the world of survival and sacrifice. His mother, witnessing the massacre of her people and the sudden attack on Virtus, understood that her son's life hung by a fragile thread. With almost no time to think, she wrapped the infant carefully in cloth, placed him in a small basket, and left a note with nothing but a single word: Sargon. She entrusted the basket to a traveling merchant, who had been passing near the ruins of her city, hoping that he could carry the child away from the slaughter that consumed all others.
The merchant traveled through the night, the cries of distant battles echoing in the air, until he reached the safer borders of Averon, a kingdom of soaring mountains and fortified cities, far from the lands consumed by war. When he opened the basket to check on the child, he froze. Inside lay a small, fragile boy, eyes wide and unblinking, staring at him as if aware of every shadow in the room. The note rested atop the cloth, its letters simple yet solemn: Sargon.
The merchant's hand trembled. "How… how could a child survive all of this?" he whispered to himself, awe and disbelief mixing in his voice. He could feel the weight of the boy's destiny pressing upon him, though he had no understanding of the legacy contained within the small, silent bundle. Despite his astonishment, he knew there was no choice: this child's life was now in his hands. He vowed to raise Sargon as his own, shielding him from the violence that had claimed his family, and from the kingdoms that might still pursue him.
Sargon grew up under the merchant's care in Averon, a kingdom known for its skilled fighters and resilient people. The boy's early years were marked by discipline and routine, yet even as a child, he displayed remarkable intelligence and a strength that surpassed many of his peers. His teachers began to notice that he was not an ordinary child—his reflexes were unusually swift, his mind unusually sharp, and his presence carried a quiet authority that drew attention without effort.
At school, Sargon first encountered Kai, a boy from the Ironpeak clan, famed across Averon for their martial skill and their unparalleled healing abilities. Their friendship began during a series of athletic challenges in the school yard. Running through obstacle courses, scaling walls, and racing across the fields, Sargon consistently surpassed everyone, including Kai. The boy's speed, agility, and calm precision left his peers in awe. Kai, initially competitive, found himself struggling to keep up, but admired Sargon's focus and discipline.
The girls in the school began to whisper about Sargon, charmed by his quiet demeanor, sharp intellect, and the natural confidence that seemed to radiate from him without arrogance. His dark hair fell over his forehead, his eyes calm yet observant, and his every movement reflected control and strength. Even Kai, usually self-assured, could not help but respect the boy who, despite being so young, seemed almost untouchable in both skill and poise.
Despite the rivalry during physical challenges, Sargon often offered Kai small lessons—how to position his body for speed, how to anticipate an obstacle, and how to pace himself. In return, Kai shared insights on endurance and strategy, and slowly, a mutual respect formed. Their camaraderie grew through every sprint, every climb, and every minor defeat or victory. It was in these small moments—laughing after a race, helping each other over walls, teasing one another during competitions—that their friendship truly began to take root.
Outside the challenges, they shared quiet moments in the school courtyard, discussing their studies, their dreams, and the simple joys of youth. Sargon's calm intelligence balanced Kai's energy, and Kai's warmth encouraged Sargon to open up more than he did around others. In Averon, far from the ruins of Virtus and the horrors of war, the two boys formed a bond that would endure, one built on respect, trust, and shared experience rather than power or lineage.
And so, life continued in Averon, a kingdom of safety and learning. Sargon, the quiet, capable boy who had survived the fall of kingdoms, grew stronger and wiser every day. Yet even as he laughed and raced with Kai, a shadow of the past lingered beyond the horizon. The events that had shaped his origin, the massacre of Virtus, and the near-extinction of his clan remained unknown to him, waiting silently for the day when he would come to understand the full weight of his heritage.