Side Story : The Rekindled Flame
The sound of clashing swords echoed through the cool morning air. In the western courtyard of the Grand Castle of Phillipe, two figures were training. One of them, a boy with gleaming silver hair and eyes sharp as a hawk's, swung his sword with fiery determination.
"Faster, Kael. You can't rely on talent alone," called out a tall man with long black hair tied back, piercing yet gentle blue eyes—King Xebec, now dressed in casual attire, holding a wooden sword in his one hand.
Kael steadied his breathing, then launched another attack, his footwork more grounded this time.
"If I keep this up, I'll be a swordmaster like Father before I turn twelve!" he said with fierce confidence.
Xebec chuckled. "That's good—but you must also learn humility. You are the son of Bastian and Vonzy, descended from two noble bloodlines and a lineage of warriors. But remember—humility and a pure heart are stronger than a thousand techniques."
Kael fell quiet for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, Uncle."
Suddenly, the wind stopped blowing. A grey sky loomed over the distant north. Xebec looked toward the horizon… as if an old premonition had returned to whisper in his ear.
But his smile didn't fade. He patted Kael's head and said, "Come, before we head to the throne room, you can help me make tea. We have guests from the Empire of Ari arriving today."
Xebec and Kael sat in the palace's inner garden, under a rain tree whose golden leaves were gently falling. Before them, a warm teapot and two blue porcelain cups sat full. Birds chirped softly in the distance, a peace rare and precious after the Endwar.
"Uncle… was Father ever afraid when he fought?" Kael asked softly, staring at his cup.
Xebec turned, gazing at the boy whose face grew more like Bastian's by the day—yet gentler, like his mother's.
"Anyone with a heart knows fear. But your father… he learned how to put that fear in the right place," Xebec replied with a soft smile.
Kael nodded thoughtfully. "And were you afraid… when you fought Baal?"
For a moment, Xebec's smile faded, replaced by a distant gaze. He sighed.
"Yes. But what I feared most wasn't Baal's power. It was… losing those I love."
Kael looked at him with quiet respect, then suddenly leaned over and hugged him from the side. "I don't want to lose you either, Uncle."
Xebec returned the hug warmly. "You won't. Because now, this world is yours too, Kael. And it's our duty to protect it—not just with strength, but with love."
Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed nearby. A royal guard rushed toward them.
"Your Majesty! A messenger from the Holy Empire of Ari has arrived. They bear an urgent letter from Archduke Tristan."
Xebec nodded and rose. "Come, Kael. This is a good time for you to start learning the world you'll one day protect."
Kael stood tall, his eyes shining.
"Yes, Uncle. Let's begin our adventure."
In the distance, a breeze blew softly, carrying with it a new hope… and shadows from long ago, slowly rising once again.
As Xebec and Kael stepped into the palace, the evening sun lit up the marbled floors like stained glass. Along the hallways, servants bowed respectfully while Kael gazed in awe at the palace—once soaked in blood and sorrow, now a symbol of peace and new beginnings.
In the throne room, a sealed letter from the Holy Empire of Ari lay on a crystal table. Xebec picked it up and broke the seal gently. Kael stood beside him, eyes full of curiosity.
Xebec's gaze darkened as he read the contents.
> "The Son of Light has begun to awaken. The child born of dragon and light shall be the key to repel the darkness that yet lingers. Kael must be prepared—before it's too late."
Xebec closed the letter slowly. His face remained calm, but his eyes held a storm.
Kael tilted his head. "Is something wrong, Uncle?"
Xebec turned, offering a faint smile. "No, Kael. Just… old winds stirring again. But don't worry."
He placed a hand on Kael's shoulder. "We'll face them together. This world's trials aren't over yet."
Kael nodded firmly. "Then I'll grow stronger—like Father… and like you."
As night fell and the stars began to shine, Xebec stood on the palace balcony, looking up at the sky.
The wind carried a whisper… echoes of the past… and a trace of power that once nearly consumed the world.
Far beyond the known borders of the continent, a faint crack tore across the sky—a fracture in reality itself. From within, a pair of glowing red eyes stared back, watching the human world once more.
And so, a new war was etched into fate… slowly.
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A New Light Under the Sky
Astrid stood on the balcony of the palace tower, gazing at the morning sky. Her hand gently caressed her growing belly. Her smile was soft, but her eyes betrayed a trace of worry. She had been secretly hiding her pregnancy for weeks. Today, she planned to tell Xebec.
In the training yard, Kael dashed with a wooden sword in hand, panting but smiling with pride. Across the arena, Xebec stood relaxed, using only one hand—yet still quick and precise in his movements.
"Kael, if you want to slay demons in the future, don't forget your footwork!" Xebec called out, blocking Kael's swing with his knee.
After training, Bastian arrived to fetch Kael. His face had matured, now sporting a light beard. He wore a dark brown cloak bearing the crossed swords of House D'Eagles.
"Father!" Kael ran and hugged him. "I'll get even stronger. One day, I'll protect Uncle Xebec!"
Xebec chuckled, ruffling Kael's hair. "You'll be stronger than all of us. I believe it."
Several years passed...
Five years later.
The Kingdom of Phillipe had returned to peace. The Grand Tower now stood tall, and Xebec had officially become King. At his side, Astrid, now Queen, stood gracefully, her long maroon hair flowing over her shoulders. Beside them stood their daughter: five-year-old Elianne von Phillipe, her bright eyes and maroon hair a perfect blend of both parents.
Kael, now ten, had grown tall and sturdy. He wore the uniform of a young warrior-in-training. His eyes still held fire—but also a newfound resolve.
That day, a carriage from the Empire of Ari arrived, carrying Nanea and her children—five-year-old twins: Lucien and Liora von Ari, children of Nanea and Archduke Tristan.
"Kael, these are your cousins!" Nanea smiled. "Lucien, Liora—this is your cousin Kael."
The three exchanged shy greetings—until Elianne suddenly grabbed Kael's hand.
"Big Brother Kael, teach me swordplay!"
Kael hesitated. "But… you're a girl…"
Astrid narrowed her eyes. "And your mother is the Archmage of the realm. Got anything else to say?"
Everyone burst into laughter. Kael gave in and handed Elianne a tiny wooden sword. She swung it with excitement.
"One day, I'll fight by your side, Big Brother Kael!" she declared.
Kael smiled, looking up at the sky.
"I'll grow strong… to protect all of you."
As the sun set, the palace gardens bathed in golden light. Elianne, Kael, Lucien, and Liora sat under the great tree, munching on honey cakes from the royal kitchen. Their laughter filled the air, banishing the quiet that had long blanketed the royal citadel.
"I'll be an Archmage like Mom!" Elianne declared, hugging her little spellbook.
"And I'll rule the Empire, like Father!" Lucien added, puffing out his chest like a knight.
"But you know what?" Kael said, looking at his cousins. "If demons ever return… we all need to be ready. I'll be the strongest among us."
Liora smirked. "You think you'll be stronger than Elianne and me? We have magic and royal blood, you know."
Kael blushed, then laughed. "We'll see."
Suddenly, Elianne held Kael's hand. "When I'm strong… I want to always be with you, Big Brother."
Kael froze, cheeks red. Lucien burst out laughing and clapped Kael on the back. "Careful, cousin. Looks like you've got a little admirer."
Liora joined in. "Ooh, are the future king and queen already being groomed?"
Kael jumped up, hiding his face. "I—I'm going to train more!"
Elianne giggled and followed. "Wait for me!"
They ran across the grassy fields of the palace, Lucien and Liora chasing behind them. Four children, heirs of heroes, playing freely in a world reborn. But behind the laughter and bonds they forged, fate had begun writing their own legend.
And one day… the world would call upon them—not just as the children of legends…
…but as legends themselves.
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To be continued