Eons ago, in a time long forgotten, the walls of Castle Asura blazed with joy and cheers. The lord had just created his first children, twin girls. The eldest, was named Ventris born of light, was a vision of brilliance.
Her golden hair shone with such a radiant intensity that only the god-king himself could look upon her without being blinded.
She exuded so much power that the old king wondered if he had perhaps outdone himself. The youngest, Solaria, born of darkness and shadow, was just as remarkable. Though she was the younger of the two, she held greater power.
Her platinum-white hair shone like moonlight, a stark contrast to the dark and blue eyes that shimmered with the vastness of the starry night sky.
Within them, twinkling stars and shifting nebulae in hues of pinks, purples, and blues seemed to swirl. When one gazed into them, it was as though they could peer into the very depths of the universe.
The proud father brought both babies out and broadcasted their images throughout his vast kingdom. The cheers of his angels filled the castle as they sang hymns while he presented the adorable children to meet the masses.
The planet Oreath, which would, centuries later, come to be known as Earth, echoed with celebration. The mortals held festivals, and some transcendent humans arrived to personally congratulate the king.
These humans were among the first of his creations and the ruling class of his people, right after him, having reached the thresholds of godhood themselves. They too had something to celebrate, a son of their own.
The boy, born the first crown prince of the human empire, was named Aurelius, a name meaning "first" and "strongest," symbolizing his place as the firstborn son and the embodiment of power.
He was born only a few days prior to Lord Asura's daughters, a tiny bundle of innocence with the most striking features. His skin was soft and dark, a sharp contrast to the vividness of his golden-blue eyes, eyes that shimmered like precious gems, both fierce and serene. His hair, as dark as the midnight sky, began as a deep black at the roots and faded into a radiant gold at the tips, capturing the light like a glimpse of the sun's first rays at dawn.
When he was presented to the god-king, the room filled with awe as the little prince's face broke into a large, gummy smile. His eyes sparkled with a sense of wonder and awe as he looked up at the towering figure of Lord Asura.
The king, moved by the moment, gently reached for the boy, asking if he could hold him. The entire room fell silent, waiting in anticipation.
But what followed took them all by surprise. As the god-king cradled the baby, the little prince, filled with pure joy, giggled and, with surprising strength, reached up to grasp the god-king's majestic beard. He tugged playfully, his tiny fingers pulling at the long strands, cooing and laughing with delight.
The room erupted with laughter, the tension melting away as they watched the adorable sight. Even the god-king, typically so composed, couldn't help but chuckle, his deep, thunderous laugh echoing through the castle. The moment was one of pure, innocent joy, a fleeting reminder of the bond between the divine and the mortal.
As the adults went to discuss matters of the realm, the three children, Ventris, Solaria, and Aurelius, were placed in a lush garden enclosure, a serene space filled with vibrant flowers and soft grass. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming roses and the gentle hum of life around them.
The children sat in the center, mesmerized by the world unfolding around them, their wide eyes taking in the chaos of voices and movements in the distance, yet their peaceful little corner remained untouched by the turmoil.
Above them, the angels, radiant and ethereal, hovered gracefully. They circled around the babies, their voices weaving together in angelic hymns that seemed to float on the air like a soft breeze. Some of the angels gently leaned down to play, their glowing hands extending to coax smiles from the babies.
Solaria, with her platinum-white hair and eyes like the starry sky, giggled as an angel cradled her and gently rocked her back and forth, singing a lullaby so sweet it made the flowers sway in rhythm. Aurelius, his small fingers reaching out, tugged at the flowing robes of an angel, who bent down and laughed softly, twirling him in her arms as the boy's bright eyes sparkled with delight.
Ventris, with her golden-blonde hair and ruby red eyes, watched intently, her gaze fixed on the angels dancing above her. One of the celestial beings floated just above her, letting her small hand grasp the glowing fingers extended toward her. The angel leaned in, her song echoing softly as Ventris giggled, the fiery spark in her eyes lighting up as if her very soul was touched by the harmony around her.
The garden became a playground of laughter, music, and the purest joy, as the celestial beings danced around the babies, filling the air with love and light.
The future looked bright for the three children, as they were surrounded by love and peace. Born at the heights of power within their societies, they were cherished not only by their devoted parents but also by their adoring subjects.
In their peaceful world, filled with the warmth of affection and the promise of greatness, the path ahead seemed destined for harmony and prosperity. Their lives, woven with the threads of love and power, stood as a beacon for what the future could hold.
But just because you are raised with love does not mean you will become a loving person. The choice lies within you as an individual. It is not the circumstances of your birth or the affection you are shown that define your heart, but the decisions you make.
You have the power to choose whether you will be filled with love or consumed by hatred, for the heart's true nature is shaped not by what is given to you, but by what you choose to embrace.
Three centuries since had quickly passed and deep in a dense forest, a wild boar charged through the underbrush. The beast was massive, nearly the size of a fully grown human, measuring about 5 feet long from snout to tail, and standing roughly 3 feet at the shoulders. Its thick, powerful body rippled with muscle, its hooves pounding the earth as it ran with frantic speed.
The boar's breath came in ragged, desperate gasps, its eyes wide and wild with fear, darting about as it sensed the predator closing in.
Not too far behind, a young boy was hot on its trail. His hair, dark at the roots, faded into gold at the tips, catching the light as he moved with fluid grace.
His body, lean and athletic for a preteen, was built for speed and agility. At around 4 and a half feet tall, his limbs were toned with the strength of someone who spent his days running and climbing, muscles already defined but still growing. His chest rose and fell in quick breaths, eyes focused intently on his prey.
With every step, his youthful energy propelled him forward, his movements quick and calculated, a testament to the training and discipline that had shaped him into the hunter he was becoming.
He watched from the trees, his sharp eyes tracking the boar's every movement. With a focused determination, he began throwing down massive branches, strategically placing them to herd the beast down the path he wanted it to follow, keeping it on course toward the pen it had escaped from.
The boar's hide was dark brown, with jagged white streaks running through its coat like lightning scars. The markings were runic, glowing faintly with magic, a clear sign it had been blessed with powerful enchantments. The creature possessed the strength of ten men and a slight affinity for earth magic, making it all the more dangerous.
The young man knew that if the boar made its way further into the forest, it could reach the less protected areas where humans, especially the vulnerable ones who had no resistance to magic, could fall prey to its wrath. His pursuit had begun the moment it escaped, and now, as the boar neared the pen, it suddenly broke off the path. It turned, heading straight for a group of unsuspecting hikers.
In a flash of magic-fueled speed, the boy dashed forward, his body a blur as he closed the gap between them. His muscles burned with effort as he leaped toward the boar, grabbing the beast by its tusks with an iron grip.
With a powerful twist of his body, he slammed the creature into the ground, the force of the impact sending a loud thud echoing through the trees. The boar lay still, unconscious from the blow, its magic temporarily subdued by the sheer force of the strike.
The young man stood over the fallen beast, his chest heaving with exertion. He wiped his brow and sighed, speaking aloud to no one in particular, "I wanted to get her home without having to do that again..." His voice was tinged with frustration, but also a strange sense of satisfaction. Though it was necessary, he knew that subduing the boar in such a way would only bring more challenges ahead.
The young prince, exhausted from his pursuit, plopped down beside the unconscious boar, the tension in his muscles starting to ease. His breath was still heavy, but the adrenaline was slowly fading, leaving a calm sense of accomplishment.
As he leaned back against the forest floor, the sound of footsteps approached, followed by the murmurs of voices. The frightened hikers, who had heard the loud explosion of the boar's fall, came to investigate.
Two figures emerged from the trees: Mirlack and his son Zervas.
Mirlack was a burly man, a human without magic but a force of nature in his own right. His sheer strength was legendary, with no mana flowing through his veins, yet he could take down opponents twice his size with ease. His thick arms and broad shoulders spoke of a lifetime of hard labor, and his presence alone was enough to make most step aside.
His son, Zervas, walked beside him. At 16, Zervas was slender but well-toned, his muscles honed through years of training and hard work. His affinity for wind magic was apparent in the way his body moved, fluid and graceful, as if the wind itself whispered through his veins.
His shoulder-length silky white hair, tipped with soft green highlights, swayed in the breeze, a sign of his connection to the air element. He wore his magical gift with pride, not hiding it, but embracing it as a part of who he was.
When Zervas saw the young prince sitting next to the boar, he immediately knew exactly what had happened. The boar lying unconscious before them was Gerelda, a prized magic beast from a neighboring farm that had a notorious habit of breaking out. And the young prince, well, it had become something of a tradition between them.
The prince had made it his favorite pastime to track down Gerelda and return her home after each escape. It was a game, of sorts, one that the boar seemed to enjoy as much as he did. As one of the few quasi-forest lord magic beasts, Gerelda found a worthy challenger in the young prince, who was one of the only beings aside from actual forest lords that she could play with in such a manner.
As Mirlack and Zervas approached, Mirlack smiled and waved at the young prince, his voice warm and knowing. "Hello, young prince. Relda got out again, I see. Is it already time for your weekly game of tag?"
The boy, still catching his breath, looked up at the two men with a tired but amused grin. He had become so accustomed to this, the game, the chase, it was a routine, one that was almost as much a part of him as his royal duties. The boar's playful escape had become an unwelcome but familiar interruption to his week, and though it was exhausting, he found a strange thrill in the pursuit.
"Hey Mir, it's been a while! I haven't seen you since the last harvest festival!"
The young prince called out, his voice light with warmth. His gaze then shifted to Zervas, and he smiled proudly, a sense of fondness radiating from him.
"And this must be little Z," he said, the tone of affection clear in his voice.
Even though the young prince was over 300 years old, his physical body only resembled that of a 12-year-old. Time passed slowly for him, and though his years were vast, his youthful appearance remained unchanged.
But beneath that youthful exterior was one of the strongest souls in the land. As the crown prince of the human empire and a transcendent, he had earned a reputation not only for his immense power but for his genuine desire to connect with the people he ruled. He wasn't just a ruler, he was part of their lives.
He had known Mirlack for many years, holding him as a baby, just as he had with his father before him. When Zervas was born, the prince had been asked to be his godfather, and in time, he took on the role of Zervas's magic teacher. He had helped the young boy refine his wind affinity, guiding him through the complexities of elemental magic, though he hadn't seen him in a few years due to being busy with his travels.
He looked at Zervas now with a brotherly gaze, seeing the boy not only as a student but as a younger sibling, someone he had watched grow over the years. As much as the prince had tried to teach Mirlack the ways of magic, he had quickly realized that the farmer found greater joy in the simplicity of hard work rather than the complexities of spells and incantations.
Mir's strength lay not in magic but in the solid foundation of effort and perseverance. The prince had always respected that about him, even if he had wished his friend shared more of a connection to the arcane world.
"How's the wind treating you today?" The prince asked, shifting his attention back to Zervas with a playful grin. "Ready to show me how much you've learned since last time?"
"Not today, Aure. Me and father are gathering blue-vined jasmine grass today," Zervas replied, his voice light as he gestured to the gear strapped to his back.
When the prince heard that, it suddenly dawned on him: Gerelda had run toward them because she smelled the grass. It was her favorite treat, after all, but more importantly, it was the scent of the two men's equipment, shovels, cutlasses, and other tools used for harvesting the prized herb. The tools still held the faint, sweet fragrance of blue-vined jasmine, a scent that Gerelda could never resist.
The young prince chuckled softly and sighed as he gently petted the still-sleeping boar. "Well, looks like you've led yourself into another trap, Gerelda," he mused with a grin. The boar's preference for the herb had drawn her toward the very men who were gathering it, and now the chase had led to yet another playful confrontation.