He stood among the ruins of the city he once swore to protect. Covered in flames as he looked at the fallen kingdom.
Once, they had called him protector. Now, they whispered monster. The boy who burned the world wandered through the wreckage, haunted by guilt, consumed by flame.
Forty two years ago:
The throne room of King Aldric Veynar glowed with torchlight, wine flowing as nobles praised the newborn heir.
King Aldric laughed, drunk and triumphant, his wine glass sloshing wine across the marble floor. "Aye, fortune smiles on me. By marrying into the Valcrest clan, I bound their power to my bloodline. Their daughter gave me a son, a boy born with mana greater than my own, greater even than the legends whispered of their ancestors. With his bloodline secured, the Valcrest clan will never dare rise against me. Their strength is mine now, their secrets locked within my castle walls. Even old George, that stubborn fool, will bow his head knowing his daughter serves my throne. And with this heir, this child of unmatched affinity, our kingdom will ascend to heights no rival can reach."
The nobles chuckled, their voices echoing against the stone walls. The air was thick with arrogance and wine, but their mirth was shattered when the doors burst open. A young steward stumbled inside, pale and breathless. Guards leveled their spears at him.
"Such audacity!" Lord Varius roared, wine spilling down his robes.
"Let him speak," Lord Veyric Draven countered, eyes narrowing. "No man risks the king's wrath without cause."
The steward fell to his knees. "Forgive me, Your Grace. It is the seer… he has collapsed. He begs for you. He says his time is short."
The king's smile faltered. "Orion? That old fool still clings to life?" He slammed his wine glass down. "Very well. Take me to him.
The night was heavy with crows as Aldric and his guards trudged through weeds and silence.
The cottage loomed, its windows glowing faintly. Inside, the air stank of medicine and sickness.
On a tattered bed lay Orion, the kingdom's seer, his body trembling, his breath shallow. A candle flickered weakly beside him, its flame struggling against the dark.
Beside the bed knelt a woman, her hands steady as she wiped the sweat from Orion's brow. Her presence was quiet but resolute, her eyes sharp with a wisdom that seemed far older than her years. Though she spoke little, Aldric noticed the way Orion's gaze lingered on her — as if entrusting something beyond words.
This was Elira, his apprentice, the woman destined to inherit the mantle of seer.
"Aldric…" Orion rasped. "I have served you since you were a boy. I have seen victories carved from visions. But tonight, I speak my final prophecy."
The king leaned close. "Then speak it, old friend. Do not waste what little air you have."
Orion's eyes burned with fever and fate. His voice was a whisper, yet it filled the room.
"A child will be born beneath the blood moon. A child of fire. He will walk with the elements at his side, and kingdoms will crumble in his shadow. Ashes will mark his path."
The candle guttered, shadows stretching long across the walls.
"Your daughter…" Orion's voice broke. "Her eyes will see the flame that scorches the world. She will hold it once, but not for long. Beware, Aldric. Beware the child of fire."
His hand fell limp. His chest stilled. Silence swallowed the room.
King Aldric stood frozen, the prophecy echoing in his skull. Then, with a snarl, he spat into the darkness.
"Damn you, Orion. Damn your cursed visions."
The next morning
Word spread quickly: the great seer was dead. In the throne room, nobles gathered once more, whispering of the prophecy.
"Your highness the news have spread all over the kingdom now everyone knows of the old seers death" said lord Varius
King Aldric raised his goblet again, though his hand trembled. "We shall discuss it in council. Until then, silence. No child unborn will dictate the fate of my kingdom."
"Very well the your grace the council awaits you" said lord Veyric as he entered the throne room
But the prophecy had already taken root.