The Kingdom of Elaria stretched proudly across the rolling plains, dense forests, and majestic mountains of the continent known as Valedor. It was a land woven with ancient traditions, noble houses, and the whisper of magic that permeated through every corner. The heart of this kingdom beat strongest within its capital, but its veins extended far, reaching even the most remote villages hidden within noble territories.
One such village lay nestled at the edge of House Draymere's lands — a quiet and peaceful settlement named Valeshire. Known for its serene meadows and humble people, Valeshire was a place untouched by the grandeur of the noble courts, yet deeply loyal to House Draymere. The villagers revered the family as protectors, and among them lived a woman and her young son — Eveline Wren and her child, Alexander.
Eveline was known throughout Valeshire for her grace and kindness. Her long black hair flowed like ink, and her dark brown eyes held both wisdom and warmth. She was strikingly beautiful, not in a way that demanded attention, but in a way that made one feel at peace. Despite being a commoner, her presence carried the quiet strength of someone who had once known a different life. Many of the village children had grown up with stories of their mothers working in the fields or tending to the houses. But Eveline was different; she could hold a conversation with a beggar and a nobleman with equal ease.
Her son, Alexander, was only eight years old but already stood out among the village children. He had shoulder-length black hair, dark brown eyes, and a naturally fit build for his age. With a face that mirrored his mother's beauty and a spirit that longed for more than the simplicity of village life, Alexander often helped the villagers with a bright smile and an eagerness that belied his years. He would often be found in the village square, offering his assistance with chores or running errands for the elderly, and always with a helping hand for the children. Yet behind his kindness, there was a restless curiosity — a desire to know more of the world beyond Valeshire, and of his mysterious heritage.
The sun was beginning to dip behind the hills when Alexander sat beside his mother on the wooden porch of their small cottage. A cool breeze rustled the trees, and the scent of wildflowers drifted through the air. The shadows of the evening stretched across the land, painting the earth with hues of gold and purple.
"Mother," Alexander began, his voice soft but inquisitive, as he leaned back against the wicker chair. "Tell me more about the kingdom. About Elaria."
Eveline smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. The wind tugged at the loose strands of her dark hair, but she seemed to barely notice it. "Elaria is a land of strength and tradition, my love. A kingdom held together by noble bloodlines, where the king reigns in the capital, but the true power lies with the noble families who keep the peace in the farthest corners of the realm."
Alexander's brow furrowed as he processed her words. "And House Draymere… they're important too, right?" His eyes sparkled with curiosity as he looked up at her.
Eveline nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Yes, they are one of the six great noble houses in Elaria. They are protectors of this land and its people. It is their responsibility to keep the borders secure and ensure that no harm comes to the kingdom. House Draymere is known for their mastery of elemental magic, especially fire and lightning. It's in their bloodline, passed down through generations."
Alexander sat up straighter, intrigued. "Are they good people?"
Eveline's smile faded just slightly, replaced by a distant, thoughtful look. "Like all great families, they carry both pride and burden. Some use their power for good, others for their own purposes. But, despite everything, House Draymere has been the guardian of this land for as long as anyone can remember."
There was a long pause. Alexander's gaze wandered to the distant hills, his thoughts lost in the stories his mother had told him. He had always admired House Draymere, but he wondered if their strength would ever be enough to keep the shadows at bay.
"I want to be like them," he said quietly, his voice laced with determination. "To fight. To protect."
Eveline's eyes softened as she looked down at him, her fingers gently brushing his cheek. "You already protect, Alexander. With your heart. That is more important than any sword."
"But I want to be strong too," he insisted, his eyes flashing with passion. "I want to stand beside the warriors in your stories. I want to make a difference."
Her smile returned, this time full of warmth and understanding. "Then follow your heart, my son. It will lead you to strength far greater than any blade."
But there was a question still lingering on his mind, one he had been too afraid to ask for many years.
"Mother," he began hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Was my father a knight of House Draymere?"
Eveline's expression faltered for a moment, her smile slipping as her gaze grew distant. She turned her head slightly to avoid his gaze, and for a moment, there was silence between them.
"He…" She paused, her voice trembling slightly. "He died a long time ago. In a war."
Alexander stared up at her, searching her eyes for more of an answer, but all he found was sorrow. He didn't press her further. Somehow, he knew that was all she would say.
---
The sky had turned dark, and stars glittered above Valeshire when the nightmare began.
It started as a distant roar, low and growing. At first, Alexander thought it was just the wind — the same eerie sound that often echoed across the fields. But then came the screams. Shrieks of terror, sharp and piercing, echoed through the night. It was the sound of something terrible, something unnatural.
Eveline was the first to react. She grabbed Alexander's hand, her fingers tight around his wrist. "Run, Alexander! To the woods, quickly!"
They sprinted through the darkened streets, weaving between homes, but the sound of screams was everywhere now. Villagers ran in every direction, some still clutching their children, others too frightened to move. The night sky glowed red, and the stench of smoke filled the air. Alexander's heart pounded in his chest as he glanced back. The village was on fire.
Then, out of the smoke, they came.
Dark, twisted shapes emerged from the shadows. Figures that defied logic — tall, shadowy, with eyes that burned like embers. The dark beings had come.
A cry split the air as one of the shadowy figures lunged at a family, ripping them apart with its claws. The air was thick with the scent of blood and burning wood.
"Don't let go!" Eveline shouted over the chaos, pulling him along as they ran. But even as they moved, the creatures followed. Their inhuman eyes glowed with a cold, otherworldly hunger.
Eveline turned to face them, her hands raised. "Stay behind me!" she ordered.
From her palms erupted a wall of fire — bright and fierce, a burning barrier that forced the dark being back. But it didn't stop them. The creature let out a screech of rage, stumbling back, but it was only momentary.
"Run!" Eveline shouted. "Go, now!"
Alexander hesitated, but then the figure surged forward again, slashing its claws at her. The fire engulfed the creature, but it did little more than slow it. In that instant, Eveline was struck, the dark claws tearing through her side, leaving deep, bloodied gashes.
"Mother!" Alexander screamed, his voice high with panic.
Eveline collapsed to her knees, blood spreading beneath her. Her hand reached up weakly, brushing against his cheek as her gaze met his one last time. "Live, my son," she whispered. "Live…"
And then she was still.
Alexander dropped to his knees beside her, shaking her, his heart breaking. "No, no, no! Please…!"
The dark being raised its claw once more, towering over Alexander with a twisted smirk carved across its shadowy face. Its jagged arm descended like a guillotine, raking across the boy's back with brutal force. Flesh tore. Blood sprayed. A scream died in his throat as pain seared through his body. His limbs gave out beneath him.
Alexander collapsed beside his mother's lifeless form, blood pouring from his mouth as he gasped for air. His vision blurred, the world tilting into a haze of fire and shadow. His eyes, once filled with life, now dulled, flickering like a candle about to die.
The creature loomed above, savoring the moment. It crouched low, preparing to feast on the bodies of mother and son.
Then — a whisper in the wind.
From the smoke, a presence emerged.
A figure cloaked in black stepped from the shadows, his face obscured beneath a hood. He raised his hand calmly, as if brushing away dust.
A beam of pure light erupted from his palm — silent, precise, absolute.
The dark being had no time to react. In an instant, its body was erased from existence, obliterated in a flash of white. Only its twisted feet and a single claw remained, twitching where the monster once stood.
The cloaked figure approached slowly, footsteps silent on scorched earth. He knelt beside the broken child, whose body was barely clinging to life.
"You refuse to die," the man murmured, his voice low and calm — not cruel, not kind, simply… final.
Without ceremony, he drew a dagger and sliced open his palm. Thick, dark blood dripped from the wound.
He tilted Alexander's head gently and let the blood fall into the boy's mouth.
"Live," the figure whispered. "But remember this night."
The blood was fire. It surged through Alexander's veins like molten lightning, tearing through his dying body with unnatural heat. His back arched. His muscles spasmed. He couldn't scream — the pain was too immense.
Visions burst behind his eyes: a battlefield soaked in blood, monsters clawing through cities, a throne wreathed in darkness.
And then — nothing.
The world went white.
When Alexander opened his eyes again, the sky above him was gray. The wind was still. The air smelled of ash and death.
The village was gone — reduced to smoldering ruins.
And the boy who had once been known as Alexander Wren… was gone with it.