Chapter 1: The Beginning of Silence
The Kafara Kingdom, Royal Palace, Year 123
The moon hung high over the royal palace, casting a silvery glow upon the grand halls as the air buzzed with anticipation. Tonight was no ordinary night. King Alexander Williams, a ruler of strength and valor, paced nervously outside the royal chambers. His hands, usually steady from years of battle, now trembled with the weight of expectation. Inside, his beloved wife, Queen Cassandra Williams, was in labor. The kingdom awaited the birth of their first child, the long-awaited prince who would one day ascend the throne.
But it wasn't an easy birth. The queen's screams echoed through the palace as the hours dragged on. Servants whispered in corners, worried about their queen's condition, but Cassandra was strong-stronger than most-and her will to survive for her child was unyielding. After what seemed like an eternity, her cries ceased, and a new sound was expected to fill the room: the cry of a newborn.
Yet, there was only silence.
The midwives exchanged uneasy glances, for Prince Benjamin Williams, a perfectly healthy baby boy, had been born without a single cry. His eyes, wide and curious, scanned the room with an intensity that unnerved everyone present. King Alexander, holding his son for the first time, felt a strange shiver crawl down his spine. There was something unusual about this child, something the king could not place. But for now, relief washed over him. His son was born, and both mother and child lived.
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Two Years Later
Prince Benjamin had grown into a vibrant toddler, full of energy and curiosity. His laugh, when it came, was infectious, filling the halls of the palace with joy. His first word, "Mama," brought tears to Queen Cassandra's eyes, and she doted on him endlessly. Despite the odd silence at birth, there was nothing unusual about the boy now. He was loved by all, especially his mother, whose entire world seemed to revolve around him.
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Three More Years Pass
By the age of five, Prince Benjamin was no longer just a curious child; he was becoming an extraordinary one. His intelligence was sharp for someone so young, and his talents in physical combat were already apparent. Today marked the beginning of his formal duel training, and he took to it naturally. His movements were precise, his instincts almost beyond his years. His parents watched with pride from the sidelines, cheering him on as he sparred with the instructors.
The next six months were a blur of training, studies, and moments spent in the loving company of his parents. Benjamin's bond with his mother, in particular, was profound-she was his anchor, his guiding light. She nurtured not only his growing mind but also his heart, always reminding him to temper his strength with kindness. For the people of Kafara, the royal family seemed perfect.
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Until the Illness Came
It began with a cough. At first, Queen Cassandra dismissed it as nothing more than a cold. But within days, the cough worsened, and she grew weaker. The royal physicians were called, and the diagnosis came swiftly, hitting the king and young Benjamin like a hammer: Pneumatic Tuberculosis. It was in an advanced stage, and though they tried every remedy known to the kingdom, there was little hope. The physicians spoke in hushed tones, saying the queen had only weeks, perhaps days, left.
King Alexander, a man who had faced enemies on countless battlefields, felt powerless for the first time in his life. Benjamin, still so young, couldn't fully grasp the concept of death, but he saw the fear in his father's eyes, and it terrified him. His world was beginning to unravel.
The next few days were the most precious of Benjamin's young life. He spent every moment with his mother, lying by her bedside, holding her hand. Cassandra, despite her pain, smiled for him, telling him stories of the stars, of the great kings and queens before them. She told him to be strong, to never lose his compassion, even when the world felt cruel. But her voice grew weaker with each passing hour.
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The Morning of the Seventh Day
The kingdom woke to a collective grief. Queen Cassandra Williams, beloved by her people, had passed away. The halls of the palace, once filled with her laughter, now felt hollow and cold. Her death was a devastating blow to the kingdom, but none felt it more than her son. Benjamin stood by her lifeless body, his small hand resting on hers, but no tears came. His face was pale, his eyes distant.
Something inside him had broken.
From that day on, Benjamin's warmth and joy disappeared, replaced by an impenetrable wall of coldness. He withdrew from the world, speaking only when necessary, his voice now carrying the chill of a winter's night. He did not cry, not even once.
Two Years and a Half After Queen Cassandra's Death
Now eight years old, Prince Benjamin had become one of the most promising young swordsmen in the kingdom. His talent in duel lessons was undeniable, his skill with a blade unmatched by any of his age. But more impressive was his growing mastery over magic, particularly Merge magic-a rare and powerful form that combined elemental forces with physical combat.
He buried himself in training and in the endless study of the royal library's vast collection of magical tomes. He was relentless, as if he sought to fill the emptiness inside him with knowledge and strength. His father watched with concern, for while Benjamin was becoming the perfect heir, the boy had lost something essential: his ability to feel.
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Year 131, Six in the Morning, the Royal Palace - Benjamin's Room
The door to Benjamin's chamber creaked open slightly as Lily, his personal attendant, knocked softly. She was only fourteen, but she had grown used to serving the prince in the past two years, despite his cold demeanor.
"Your majesty, it's Lily," she said softly, peeking inside. She saw him in the corner of the room, already training with his sword, practicing his Merge magic as he danced through the motions of combat. His face was a mask of concentration, his eyes as sharp as the blade in his hand.
"Come in, Lily," Benjamin replied, his voice devoid of warmth. It was cold, like the air outside in winter. She had grown accustomed to this, though it still sent a shiver down her spine each time.
"The breakfast is ready, your majesty," Lily said, setting the tray down on the table.
"Leave it. And tell the royal butler to arrange a meeting with the king for noon."
"As you wish, your majesty," Lily replied, bowing slightly before leaving the room.
Benjamin ate in silence, his mind already racing through the drills he would practice next. Hours passed as he trained, pushing himself harder and harder, as if driven by an unseen force. By the time the royal butler, Gafe, knocked on his door, the sun was high in the sky.
"Your majesty, it is time," Gafe said.
Benjamin sheathed his sword and nodded. "Finally. Let's go."
When they arrived at the throne room, Benjamin stood before his father, his cold eyes meeting the king's.
"Good afternoon, Father," Benjamin said, his voice as calm and unfeeling as ever.
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End of Chapter 1
