The Dawn

Chapter Six.

Him.

His name was Kaelith Rathmor, but it had been a long time since anyone had called him that. Now, he was known only as the Dark Prince, a title that carried with it the weight of fear, power, and a darkness that had consumed him whole. But there had been a time, once, when he had been just a boy, a boy with a family, with a future, with a heart that had not yet turned to stone.

That time seemed like another life, a distant memory obscured by years of pain and suffering. Kaelith could barely remember what it felt like to be that boy, to live in a world where the sun shone brightly and laughter filled the air. All that remained now were fragments, flashes of a past that had been ripped away from him in the blink of an eye.

He had grown up in a noble family, one of the most respected in the kingdom. His father, Lord Rathmor, had been a trusted advisor to the king, a man of great honor and integrity. His mother, Lady Selyra, had been the heart of their home, her kindness and warmth the glue that held their family together. And then there was his sister, Aelina, a girl full of life and laughter, who had been his constant companion, his partner in mischief and adventure.

The Rathmors had been close to the royal family, their lives intertwined by duty and friendship. Kaelith had spent much of his childhood within the castle walls, playing with the princess, and dreaming of a future where they would all grow up together, safe and happy. But those dreams had turned to ash the night the kingdom was attacked.

He could still see it clearly, the flames licking at the night sky, the screams of the dying, the smell of blood and smoke thick in the air. The castle, once a symbol of strength and stability, had crumbled under the onslaught, its walls breached by the invading forces. The royal family had been the primary target, but the attackers hadn't stopped there. They had cut down anyone who stood in their way, anyone who might pose a threat to their new rule.

Kaelith's father had been one of the first to fall, struck down while trying to defend the king. His mother had followed soon after, her life taken by the same blade that had ended his sister's. He had watched it happen, too stunned, too horrified to move, as the world he knew was torn apart in front of him. And then, when it was all over, when the last of the screams had faded into silence, he had been left standing alone amidst the ruins of his life, the bodies of his family lying at his feet.

It was in that moment that something inside Kaelith had broken. The boy he had been, the boy who had believed in honor and justice, had died alongside his family. What had risen from the ashes of that night was something else entirely, something darker, colder, and infinitely more dangerous.

Kaelith had fled into the woods, driven by a need to escape the horrors that surrounded him. The darkness of the forest had welcomed him, wrapping itself around him like a cloak, hiding him from the eyes of the world. He had wandered for days, his mind numb, his heart shattered, until he had collapsed from exhaustion and grief.

But even in the depths of despair, Kaelith had refused to die. There was something inside him, a burning rage that refused to be extinguished, that drove him to survive no matter the cost. He had picked himself up, forced himself to move forward, to keep going, even when every step felt like it was dragging him deeper into the abyss.

The forest had become his home, its shadows his only companions. He had learned to hunt, to fend for himself, to survive in a world that had shown him nothing but cruelty. The woods were unforgiving, but they were also a refuge, a place where he could disappear, where he could be alone with his anger and his grief.

Over time, Kaelith had embraced the darkness that surrounded him. He had let it seep into his soul, let it shape him into something harder, stronger, something that could no longer be broken. He had trained relentlessly, honing his skills, pushing his body to its limits, until he had become a force to be reckoned with. The boy who had once played in the castle gardens was gone, replaced by a man who had been forged in the crucible of pain and loss.

Kaelith had never looked back. He had buried his past, buried the memories of the life he had once known, and focused only on the present, on the power he had gained, on the vengeance that burned within him. The title of Dark Prince had been given to him by those who feared him, and he had worn it like a crown, a symbol of the new life he had carved out for himself.

But no matter how much power he accumulated, no matter how many enemies he crushed beneath his heel, there was a part of him that remained hollow, empty. The darkness that had once protected him had also consumed him, leaving him with nothing but the cold, unfeeling void where his heart had once been. He had built a kingdom of shadows, a place where he ruled supreme, but it was a kingdom without light, without warmth, without life.

Kaelith knew he was feared, that his name inspired terror in the hearts of those who heard it. But fear was not enough. He wanted more, he needed more. He needed to understand why his life had been destroyed, why his family had been taken from him, why the world had turned its back on him. And the only way to do that was to uncover the secrets that had been buried along with his past.