Synopsis: In the tranquil village of Melodin, a pair of twins with unparalleled destinies are born. While one is enveloped in the warmth of village life, the other is ushered into the splendor of royalty. They are not merely children of fate but the...
Eldoria: the bustling capital of Eldenwood, is a hub of trade and aristocracy. Its streets are a theatre of commerce and nobility, with merchants and lords shaping the pulse of the kingdom.
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In the heart of Eldoria, the capital of Eldenwood, there was a story many were unaware of. Princess Seraphina, the eldest daughter of King Aldric, was revered for her governance, fairness, and compassion. But behind her authoritative demeanor, Seraphina harbored a secret.
A secret so trivial it would be comical, if not for its truth:
Seraphina has no Lover.
Seraphina, upon reading the author's note, retorted with a huff, "What a cheeky author! But it's okay, for I have him."
On a serene day many years ago, while bathing in the Eldorian lake, Seraphina stumbled upon a mysterious boy named Luka, floating in a basket. She took him in and raised him as her own. That chance encounter had brought a whirlwind of joy into her life.
Present Day in Eldoria
"Rose, where is Luka?" Seraphina exclaimed, glancing around the palace grounds. "He said he'd just play nearby."
Rose replied, slightly flustered, "I saw him by that tree earlier, Princess. But then he just... disappeared."
Rolling her eyes, Seraphina chuckled, "Oh, that boy and his tricks. That wasn't him you saw; it was just one of his illusory doubles. Ugh, he's going to get an earful from me."
Meanwhile, by the lake, Luka was deep in concentration. "1...2...3... Focus, Luka, focus!" he muttered, frustration evident in his voice. He gave up with an exasperated shout, "Nothing works!" He kicked a stone in irritation.
A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts, "Practicing that same spell again? And skipping your lessons, no less."
Luka turned to see Seraphina, a mix of concern and amusement on her face. "I don't like reading those books, mom. They're confusing. I'd rather practice here."
If you don't study, you won't be able to enter the academy," Seraphina reminded him with a stern look.
Seraphina sighed, "You can't just run off without telling anyone. It's dangerous out there."
Luka lowered his gaze, "Sorry, mom. I just... I can't even cast a simple spell. All I can do is create illusory duplicates of myself."
She then said, "Come, let me show you." Closing her eyes momentarily, she chanted, "Ventus Spiralis Ascendere!" As the incantation left her lips, a gust of wind spiraled forth, tearing through a nearby tree. Luka watched in awe.
"Now you try," Seraphina encouraged.
Luka tried to replicate the spell, but no incantation came to mind. Yet, as he channeled his energy, a luminous force emanated from his hand. Seraphina, realizing its potency, shouted, "Luka, point it away!"
He directed the beam at a massive rock, piercing right through its core. Both stood shocked at the aftermath.
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Seraphina rushed to Luka, examining him for injuries. "That was dangerous, Luka! You could've been hurt."
Luka grinned, "It was cool though, wasn't it?"
Seraphina sighed with relief, "Yes, but also terrifying. We have to be careful. That kind of power... there are those who would seek to control it, or worse, destroy it."
She pulled Luka into a tight embrace, "You might think you're grown up, but you'll always be my little critter."
Luka wriggled out, "I'm a grown man now, mom!"
Seraphina smiled, "Come on, let's go home. I'll make your favorite Menudo."
In the heart of the Pinevele village, amidst towering pine trees, two figures stood ready for a duel. Their wooden swords, symbols of their training, gleamed in the sunlight.
"Ensure your blows are precise, Aran," Robert called, his voice echoing slightly in the woods. "But, remember, safety first. I don't want to see you hurt."
Taking his stance, Robert yelled, "Here I come!" With a swift movement, he aimed a blow at Aran, only to find it deftly blocked.
"Good defense," Robert praised, sweat starting to bead on his forehead. "But remember, offense is equally vital."
With that, Aran, moving as swift as a shadow, seemed to disappear for a split second. Robert's eyes widened as he felt a tap on his back. The young boy had swiftly circled around him, landing a 'fatal' blow.
Chuckling, Robert remarked, "Impressive! But I won't be defeated that easily." Conjuring a spell, his body became engulfed in a fiery aura, transforming his wooden sword into a flaming spectacle.
Lourdes, from her kitchen window, felt the ground tremor. "An earthquake?" she wondered aloud. As she dashed outside, her gaze landed on the intense duel underway.
Robert, his weapon blazing with fire, launched an attack. But Aran, with incredible agility and precision, countered it using a new technique. Merging shadow magic with his wooden sword, the weapon transformed into a swift, dark blade, delivering a strike Robert couldn't even see coming.
Breathing heavily, Robert admitted, "That technique... It's unlike anything I've seen. You've defeated me, Aran." Pausing for a moment, he asked, "How did you come up with such a unique technique?"
Aran's response was simple and to the point: "Reading."
Robert laughed, "Of course! Our taciturn genius."
Lourdes approached, shaking her head, "You nearly brought our house down! This isn't the place for your battles."
Robert, ruffling Aran's hair, said, "I was merely testing his strength. And he's surpassed all expectations. Aran, you'll have to show me that shadow technique someday."
Aran nodded, "Alright, Father."
Lourdes, her eyebrows furrowing in concern, approached Robert, "You almost hurt our son! Remember, he's our one and only. What if you had cut his arms? What would you have done then?"
Robert, rubbing one of the many bruises forming on his body, replied with an exaggerated pout, "Look at me, honey. I'm the one covered in bruises. Our little Aran isn't so little anymore. It seems I can't even handle him by myself anymore." He mockingly sobbed, "Our boy's growing up too fast."
Then, his demeanor shifting as he caught the scent of the cooking food, he perked up, "But forget all that for now. I'm starving! What's that delicious aroma? I'm ready to eat!"
As the trio headed home, the savory aroma of caldereta wafted through the air. "Come, let's eat," Lourdes beckoned.
Meanwhile, in House Alastair, Luka sat on his bed, lost in thought. Recalling the magical incident, he wondered, "How did I do that? Such power... I never knew I had it. I've scared Mother."
He lay down, preparing for sleep, especially with his baptism looming the next day. As he closed his eyes, a mysterious voice whispered, echoing in the depths of his mind, "You must know who you are."
