In Earth)
Early morning in Arkan garden was the beautiful thing one can witness.dragons where flying above the palace.Mist clung softly to the tall trees, and dew shimmered over rare flowers that bloomed only under Arkan spell. Vines curled around white marble pillars, and fountains carved with ancient runes whispered as clear water flowed the arkan magic runs through its nature. Above the palace, the sky was pale golden,the breeze was fresh
King Raikan stood beside his winged horse, gently stroking its neck king Raiken looks handsome in all ways. His frim body is warning of his determination. His horse was magnificent—pure white, its wings folded like white clouds at rest. Yet Raikan's mind was far from the calm before him.
The war from years ago returned in fragments. Screams. Fire. Broken banners.
Terror flashed behind his eyes for a moment.
"Lord Raikan."
Queen Xolia approached quietly. With a small gesture, she dismissed the guards, and the garden was left to the sound of flowing water and birds song. She wore a deep red gown that caught the morning light, the color bold against the green of the garden.she looked like a deity.
Raikan turned—and, like always he forgot everything else.
Every time he saw her, he felt like the first time. The same pull. The same ache his heart beats fastly . That mischievous smile curved on her lips as she watched him.
Unable to resist, Raikan stepped closer, placed his hands on her waist, and drew her against him. His chest pressed to hers as he gently bit her lower lip and kissed her, slow and possessive. He couldn't stop touching her.
Xolia smiled when they parted.
"Well," she said softly, "I didn't expect that to be what you were thinking about."
Raikan kissed her forehead, lingering there.
"You bewitched me you made me a lunatic lover boy," he murmured, "and I have no wish to escape."
Xolia lifted her hand to his face. Her expression shifted—her brows sharpening with concern as she rested her head against his chest.
"Do you think something bad will happen?" she asked quietly.
Raikan didn't answer at first. For a moment, he was lost in her warmth, in the illusion of peace. Nearby, his winged horse moved away and slowly lay down beneath a tree, wings rustling softly.
Xolia asked again.
"No," Raikan said at last, without meeting her eyes. "I don't think so."
Her face tightened. She knew him too well. His hesitation told her everything—he didn't know what consequences awaited them.
Xolia closed her eyes and stayed close to him.
Footsteps broke the stillness.
Without raising his head minister lanchen said
"I'm sorry to interrupt, my king… my queen," stopping at a respectful distance. "But it's urgent."
Raikan lifted a hand. "Matters can wait—just this once."
"They cannot," Xolia said firmly, turning to Lanchen. "what happened lanchen?"
Lanchen bowed his head. "Our message has reached the Seven Gates. Knox has arrived sevengates."
Raikan nodded. "You ensured his safety?"
"Yes," Lanchen replied. "He was unharmed until he crossed the Arkan Bridge. I saw to it myself."
He hesitated. "But after that… there are reports he was attacked and Knox has accused us before the Seven Gates."
Raikan's lips curved—not in amusement, but in restrained fury.
"ha it no longer matters what they believe," he said without changing expression. "We know the truth."
He turned his gaze toward the palace. "And perhaps it is better this way. They now understand—we are no longer allies."
His voice hardened.
"They slaughtered innocents. They killed our clan leader, Gretchen. That debt will never be forgiven."
Above them, shadows passed as dragons circled the palace, their wings stirring the air. The Arkan Clan lived in harmony with beasts of legend—dragons, flying serpents, giant hounds, and enchanted steeds. Nature itself guarded them. No enemy dared strike first.
Lanchen's voice faltered. "I wish… Gretchen were here."
Xolia stepped towards him .
"He is," she said softly. "And we will win—for him."
Lanchen bowed deeply and took his leave, his steps steady, filled with resolve.
Raikan remained still, staring into the distance as turmoil churned within him.
Above the palace, the black banner of the Arkan Clan unfurled in the wind—a white swan at its center, proud and unyielding.
Lanchen walked toward the Arkan Clan library, a place that had always offered him comfort.
He reached the doors and paused. They were carved with two dragons facing each other—ancient symbols, for it was said that all Arkan ancestors had been born from a single dragon.
With a soft creak, the doors opened, and he stepped inside.
Lanchen walked slowly between the towering shelves of the Arkan library. Once, this place had been his great refuge. He used to read endlessly, losing himself in words and knowledge knowledge was an addiction to him. Now, his mind refused to settle. Ever since Gretchen died, his thoughts had been in constant turmoil. Lanchen strongly believe that Gretchen died because of kalies and for that reason he will never forgive him....
Thoughts of kalies made his blood boil.
"I am planning wars and conquests now", he thought bitterly. I never imagined I would strategize battles. All I ever wanted was to study in peace… to read. Where has fate brought me?
His fingers brushed across the spines of old books as he walked. The library smelled of dust and neglect. Spider webs clung to the corners, and silence filled the vast room. No one had time for knowledge anymore—not when war loomed so close.
Lanchen stopped suddenly.
His eyes had fallen upon an old, leather-bound book—Clans and Realms.
It was written by Yakubo
His master.
A book about the realms, their powers, and their duties.
Lanchen carried it to a reading table near the window. The desk was coated with dust. He wiped it away with his sleeve and sat down slowly, as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.
He opened the book.
The writing was precise, detailed—Yakubi had never been careless with words.
"The realms, kings, warriors, and magicians could live for centuries, their lifespans prolonged by ancient magic, bloodlines, and devotion to duty....
The chapter named realms first chapter was about.
The Seven Gates
Lanchen's eyes widened as he read.
The Seven Gates — the seat of righteous rulers.
Established by the Deity of Justice.
Only the most righteous soul may sit upon its throne.
Its color was white.
Its banner—a white flag bearing a lotus at its center.
The Seven Gates stood for laws, treaties, and justice.
Lanchen's fingers tightened around the edge of the page.
"Righteous," he whispered. His face revealed hatred.The word felt strange on his tongue now.
He turned the page.
Lynidor
The birthplace of art and architecture.
A neutral force in history.
They valued peace above all else.
Their banner was yellow, bearing the image of a lion.
Lanchen paused. Neutrality, he thought, was often another form of silence.
Another page.
Hellenic
The creators of history.
The keepers of forgotten truths.
They had the power to erase history itself—preserving only what they deemed necessary.
Watchers. Spies.
Observers of the realms who claimed to serve the greater good.
Their banner bore a red stag against a black field.
Lanchen felt unease creep into his chest.
Who watches the watchers?
He turned the page again.
The Arkan Clan
Rebellious.
Masters of magic.
They lived in harmony with nature, bonded with exotic and powerful beasts.
They refused submission.
Lanchen exhaled slowly. This page felt familiar—almost like home.
Then his eyes moved to the next section.
Therenys
Ice realms.
Death.
Souls.
Rebirth.
The keepers of the afterlife.
They were forbidden from interfering in wars.
Forbidden from choosing sides.
Once a Death Lord was deemed worthy, they could no longer live as a mortal.
They would stand above worldly desires, bound to higher knowledge alone.
A chill ran through Lanchen's spine.
If death had not noticed Gretchen... He might still alive
Gretchen heard echoes of footsteps
He closed the book gently,
The silence of his mind pressed around him once more.