Prologue

A sovereign died today.

The ruler of them all. The King himself.

He died old and noble, loved by the people and feared by the enemies. The sky seem to weep his death.

The raging smokes from the chimneys wrestled against the merciless tides of wind, it poured into the streets. The rabble of people raced to and forth for cover, a temporary shelter. While their unsold wares tinkles and muddles against the soil. Some close their eyes in an attempt to protect themselves from the wet storming dust. Others did it for their children - clamping surprised, innocent gazes with their palms.

From afar a siren shrilled, a quail alarm for the citizens to help themselves into the sanctuary until the nuisance passed. But Sargent Slantis wondered if the storm that's about to enter his life would ever die in the wake. He stands grim, the sole of his thick black military boots firm atop the grass on his porch. His house that stood tall by the mountainous platform provided him with a stellar view of what took place by mart street. The in-line within the city where all the rats from the country runaway to.

Robbery, assaults, and murders are a regular chatter among them. Poverty was another menace that plagues them and their morales, and yet, Slantis would give up his title and honor to join these brats with dirt beneath their nails and poison in their tongue.

At least then he won't have to serve as a slave to a cursed crown.

He looked up dauntingly at the greying sky- he could hear his wife's sweet voice by the kitchen, she sings the same folklore that she did while her mother died. It kept her calm when she could burst out in tears. The young boy of six remained glued between the pleats of his mother's skirt. He was terrified- chilled in fear as he heard the roar of wind and dings of the bell.

Unknown to the angst of his parents that would prefer thousands of such disasters to-

The boy coils his sweaty fingers in a grasp, the smooth Cotton fabric of his mother's dress does very little to comfort him. When she gasps, the thunder and gallops of horses dance in loud echoes, all he does is hold onto his mother a little tighter. He was too short to see what his mother saw across their wooden mounted windows and too young to understand what caused her to stop her singing.

The guards, they pool in by their homely garden. Out of place in their black, red, and deep blue uniform. They step down, seven of them- their boots create patterns as they walked up to Slantis. Hard face, squared shoulders, and firm steps. They stood invulnerable to the harsh wind, watching Slantis as they raised their arm into a respectful salute- they await the tribute.

The Armins. The warriors. The one amongst who her husband was.

Samallie Slantis once asked her husband what was his most cherished possession ever was. She had soulfully expected it to be her and their son.

But it never changed.

"I worked hard to become an Armin" he would flatten his palm upon the deep blue and red Phoenix by his chest, the kingdom's emblem embossed with pride in Uniform "Everything I have, even you. It's a blessing bestowed by the title I carry. We are among the safest and most respected ones"

Truest in words was it.

But his trust shattered into a million pieces when the carriage rolled in, its wheels heavy as it glides over and its horses the richest in the skin. Even with the lights dying in the sky- its fur shone like silk under reflection. A servant hops down frantically to open the door, the Armins turn their back to Slantis-facing the yawning door as they await.

He is same-

Slantis thought,

His hair the healthiest shade of darkest brunette, his eyes held the gleam of gold and raw fire- he wore same clothes as his, but the body that fills the suit and the gold stars by his shoulders spoke of his difference- his gloved clad hands in leather finished off any doubts he had-

His friend, the prince he served since he was chosen, to serve the man in front of him, to keep him above and beyond even when it came to his own kingdom was now its ruler.

He was no longer his companion, no matter how much he wants to deny the myth, it was here- the sky laments the death of dead sarkim.

The one who ascended the throne today stood before him with nothing that gave away.

Slantis bowed down once he realized the Armins doing so. But his Sarkim had his eyes on him, a flash of sadness whips past so quick that Slantis was convinced that he hallucinated it. He remembered his promise, he would give his life in a blink to fulfill them-

But he knows it wasn't him he put out for sale this time. It was his son.

No words are knitted between the men. The sarkim has been here so much as a prince that he could tread his path blindly to Slantis's study. Slantis follows him. The Armins knew better than to follow them. Slantis had been their Sarkims protector since his childhood- though they shared the same youth he always knew that his duty demanded that he bled to death even before a scratch could reach the heir.

His duty ends today.

But his promise doesn't.

So as they sat by the fireplace, he lets his mind get licked by the thoughts of anything but what was about to come.

"There's none I trust more than you and your blood" Slantis was always entranced by how easily manipulative his voice was, though he seldom had the evil intentions to wash a brain. The leap of tired sigh demanded the attention of Slantis. So he looked at him, really looked at him. His friend, was dissolving under the weight of the responsibilities he inherited since the dawn of this very day.

It brought doom to his kingdom.

The prophecy of the sorcerer- it came true for the second time, there wasn't the third they could risk.

"I tried to deny his claim" he pressed powerfully with malice in his voice, a Sarkim can't lose control even in his death- but now, his stare heats with the fire he could only show to his one true friend, while he asks him of the most precious thing he treasured. "We won the war as he predicted, my father- Our ruler died by the hands of the clock he marked-

"My Hann can't protect a boy who is bounded by a prophecy that's hems by death"

He says it, Atlas Slantis- the Sargent belonging to the Antar's finest regiment dared to fight to an oath, he could go on to defend if it wasn't for the distasteful flatness of his Sarkims brows.

"I will take care of the boy, he will remain under my protection while he grows with Lian"

Slantis brings his hand to his chest in solemn apology-

"I will now and ever till the final breath I will remain Lians godfather" he licks his lips in anticipation as more the emotions in Sarkims face evaporates "But I beg that Hann be exempt from the destiny I promised him of under different circumstance"

A jeering thunder fills the room to brim, the suffocating silence drowns as Sarkim gets on his feet- appearing taller than he ever had. But instead of walking out, he pries gently in the direction of the window- looking down from the story one stature at the carriage he came in-

Came in but not alone.

"What if I let him decide" the sarkim turns around with a strange delight in his gaze "I want Hann to meet my son"

"No"

"It's an order Slantis"

Swallowing the spikes that rose in his tongue Slantis did as told, and soon he walked him to the path that led him to the heir- He could only firm his hold on Hann's trembling little hands. The rain-drenched him while the patterns resounded from his son's leather hooded rain suit.

The servant opens the door for them,

For Hann.

It's when he saw him,

Julian Ezdan, the future of highborn, a child, a beauty that surpassed ballad and compositions. A doomed prince. A boy whose fate was tied to a curse, and Hann to his.

He smiles, charming glow blooms on his pink lips. His eyes held the innocence and wisdom of both worlds. Unlike his father- they were dark almost black- specks of silver and grey reflected when he sat in luminous, in other times they were an abyss that one could get lost in. It was night, light and thunder. Anything that he wanted to convey. Smoldering with power even before he knew of it.

And right now he extended his sleeved hand towards Hann.

They were clad in small gloves similar to that of his fathers. Once Hann received a nod from Slantis he took it, hoisting himself up the cart. The door closes behind them. There was enough space for Hann to stand as he proceeded to bow.

"You don't do that with me"

Startled at the command he heard in his tone Hann stood up straighter looking at the disappointed look he threw at his way.

"But- but Da said that I have to, I need to bow-

"If you were asked to bow down to me, don't you suspect it's me you obey?"

Hann had no intention to answer him and get himself in trouble with this kid. So when he was questioned again, he clipped his answer to court only the need.

"How old are you?" He tilts his head, pinching the tip of his glove in adjustment. He pats the empty space next to him and Hann scrambles to take a seat. The faster he gets done with the talk the sooner he could go back to the safety of his house. His mother.

He was eager to get away from this strange boy.

"I am six. I turn seven in five months"

There's a hint of excitement that slips Hann. He always dreamt of growing up sooner so he could be like his Da. Brave and an Armin. There's nothing else that ever enthralled him. Though he had no gifts like some of the highest-ranking Armins did- he desired to work hard enough like his father to reach such unreachable goals.

But shy was he to admit because so far all he had Learnt was to Chuck short mounds of wood and read some story that's easy on mouth.

He might need to grow up more and probably get stronger-

"It's same, nothing changes. I turned seven last week" his voice was almost bored and plain. Hann gasps at the generalization of his thoughts.

"How do you-

"You are transparent" he locks his gaze tightly "Easy to read"

Hann finally builds up the courage to hold the stare, this annoying boy was getting on his nerves now- prince or not, Hann hated to be reminded that he was fragile. Because deep down he knew he was.

"Ma says you are a prince entitled to a bad end"

Hann goes smug when he saw him look away and into the strip of glass that reveals the struggling sky. Though no noise or lightning plagued inside because of the material the vehicle was made with. Nothing can go past out or in, just like with him.

"You heard"

"What?"

"Your mother didn't tell you, you heard them" Hann clutched his head in surprise watching him look at him with a mischievous glint "No, I don't have that kind of gift. I don't think I was born with any- it already makes me a liability"

It was only then Hann noticed the waver of his pride.

"So how do you know?"

"I made a guess. No parents ever want their kids near me, in case my demise would lead to their offspring's too. I am not a topic adults would discuss with their young ones"

Hann tried to keep his sympathetic self at bay, only to-

"We are all going to die one day anyway"

"Yet no one is prepared for it, are they kid?"

Ignoring the hypothetical question Hann childishly clung onto something else.

"Why are you calling me a kid, we are almost of the same age"

He shrugs with a tailored shoulder-

"You did not mention your name"

Hann sucks in a much-needed breath,

"I am Hann Slantis, son of chief Armin, Sargent Atlas Lucas Slantis"

It takes Hann forever to receive an end to what he started, an introductory beginning, but when the boy recites his name, it's lucid. Like he practiced to not spit out the fire and agony that came with it.

"Julian Ezdan" he paused a second"I prefer Lian better"

That's it.

No title not the air of it. He doesn't have to. He was the embodiment of it. Be it in a tiny body- he represents what he doesn't say. With Ezdanian blood in his veins, he had no room to loathe or remain weak, even if was only a child. His small frame- that's where his childhood is seen.

Inside- not so much.

"Am I going to be trained as a private guard in your homeland?" Hann asks in a curious but skeptical query, to which Lian smiles at Hann's feet, Watching the undone laces of his snow boots.

"Only if you want to. Though it won't be much of a loss if you chose to be a farmer instead- you are not brave enough to-

"I don't fear death-

Lian's lips clips, his cheeks a pale rose, he never got interrupted this way. Nor was he wrong about someone. He just knew.

"You don't know what you haven't come across"

Silence.

"I would never know if I don't try"

Both the boys weren't old enough to bolt a prospect that would map their entire youth, and yet here they are- they can't name the different kinds of rain, but spoke of life like a sage.

They were growing a year in a minute under this carriage. Hann more than he believed he was capable of.

"I want to fight for my kingdom" he admits boldly, his lips flat as he awaits the dire decision of time.

"You are to fight for me"

Hann smirks, knowing that what he plans to say will be impressive and credible.

"I save you and you save the world I live in" he fumbles with his passion to keep going, he feels the value of the deal he was going to make "We will fight him, we will grow up and find him together and kill him when-

"It's a girl"

"Pardon?"

Lian leans back in his seat, his feet lift- not touching the rugged floors anymore. He looks ahead as if he is drowning in his thoughts. Like his mind is beating and pulsing like his heart.

"The curse is a she?" Hann whispers almost afraid to intrude the thoughts of his "How do you know?"

Lian slowly turns to him, becoming the arrogant semblance of himself once again.

"I can feel Things, love, and fear. Truths and lies. And I feel hers the most even when I don't know where she is. I know her heart" he wished he could state it as a fact, but it stressed him with confusion-

"What it's like? Her heart? Is she a witch- is all she thinks of is war and blood?"

The bullets of wonders Hann shot his way had made Lian wish for it but instead-

"It's beautiful" Hann couldn't trust his ears but he listened with a gape "It's filled with light and longings. I bet she is a toddler still"

This hurdles Hann into a pile of new comprehension.

"I don't understand"

Lian gives a subtle tug to fix his gloves, his understanding of the subject much clearer than Hanns.

"It gets faint as I keep growing up, the bond that we seem to have. But one thing is crystal- it doesn't make me wish to execute her in any form"

With that, he rings a bell,

The door opens for Hann to step out.

Out in the open where he could breathe without sharing the same air with an Ezdan and his complicating ideologies. His curiosity to play with the fire which is born to burn him.

And it was upon Hann to decide where he would sell his loyalty-

To a life secure under his family's wings.

Or to a boy who bears an insight into the heart of a ruin. And the worst part was-

He has it embraced.

I really don't know what to say. I hope I will be made known about your thoughts so far through comments. And don't forget to vote 💌