The rain fell without mercy.
It struck the stone courtyard in relentless sheets, splashing against marble, soaking silk, and drowning the world in a steady roar that seemed to swallow even thought itself.
Keyla stood unmoving.
Her head lowered.
Her long black hair, now heavy with rain, clung to her face and shoulders like shadows given weight. Droplets ran down her chin, mixing with tears she no longer bothered to hide.
Opposite her stood Eris.
His posture remained upright, but there was nothing proud in it now. The rain struck his face again and again, yet he did not blink it away. He let it fall. Let it sting.
Let it punish him.
Inside the dining hall, no one moved.
Lord Conrey's brows were drawn together as he stared at the scene beyond the open doors. The storm blurred the view, but not enough to hide what mattered.
His voice broke the silence.
"…Was this part of your scheme, big brother?"
The Emperor did not answer immediately.
Instead, his gaze shifted—slowly, deliberately—toward Don.
Don's expression was heavy.
Not amused.
Not satisfied.
Just… heavy.
The Emperor finally shook his head.
"No."
That single word carried weight.
Something had gone wrong.
Without another word, both men rose to their feet.
Chairs scraped softly behind them as the rest followed in quiet unison.
They gathered at the threshold of the great doors.
And watched.
In the Rain
Eris took a single step back.
The space between them widened—but it felt heavier than before.
His voice came out low.
Unsteady.
"I'm… sorry."
The words seemed small.
Insufficient.
But they were all he had.
Keyla didn't lift her head immediately.
When she spoke, her voice trembled—not with anger… but something far more fragile.
"Do you… also hate me?"
Eris froze.
Her words continued, spilling out before she could stop them.
"For not stopping you…?"
Her fingers clenched at her sides.
"I wanted to. I tried. But I… I had no strength."
Her voice cracked.
"And then… I felt like I wanted you to do it."
Silence.
Rain.
Breathing.
"I'm sorry."
Eris's heart twisted violently.
"No… no."
He stepped forward instinctively, shaking his head.
"How could I hate you?"
His voice broke.
"I'm the one to blame."
Every word felt like a blade turned inward.
"I should have turned away. I should have left."
His fists clenched.
"Even if we're engaged… it's not a reason."
His breath hitched.
"Not a reason for me to touch you like that."
His voice dropped, raw and exposed.
"Please… don't hate me."
The rain intensified, drumming harder against the ground.
"Because right now…"
He laughed bitterly.
"I hate myself so much, I want to disappear."
Another step closer.
"Forgive me, Keyla."
Closer.
"Please… forgive me."
Tears mixed freely with rain as they fell from his eyes.
Slowly…
Keyla lifted her head.
Their eyes met.
Red.
Wet.
Broken.
And yet—
Clear.
"Kiss me."
Eris blinked.
The world seemed to pause.
"…What?"
"I said kiss me."
Her voice was firmer now.
"If you don't… I won't be able to move forward."
A breath.
"I won't be able to forgive you."
Another step closer.
"So kiss me."
The rain no longer mattered.
The cold no longer existed.
Only her.
Only him.
Eris hesitated for a fraction of a second—
Then closed the distance.
His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close—firm, but careful.
His other hand rose to the back of her head, fingers threading gently through her soaked hair.
And then—
He kissed her.
Not rushed.
Not forceful.
But deep.
Intentional.
Real.
At the doorway, the entire royal household stood frozen.
Shock rippled through them.
This was not what they expected.
Not at all.
Keyla did not resist.
She did not lash out.
Instead—
Her hand slowly lifted…
And gripped his arm.
Holding him there.
Accepting him.
The shift was so profound that for a moment—
No one breathed.
Then—
"YES!"
The Emperor's voice exploded with triumph.
"HAHA!"
Don followed immediately, unable to contain himself.
The tension shattered.
But outside—
They heard nothing.
The rain swallowed everything.
The kiss slowly broke.
They remained close.
Breathing uneven.
Eyes searching.
Eris swallowed.
"If… if…"
He struggled.
"If something happens… if you conceive…"
His voice steadied with effort.
"I'll take responsibility."
A pause.
Then firmer—
"No."
"I'll speak to Father."
His grip tightened slightly—not possessive, but resolute.
"We'll marry before that ever happens."
His gaze locked onto hers.
"I won't let you face shame."
Not even a fraction of it.
Not even a whisper.
Keyla looked at him.
Really looked at him.
And then—
She smiled.
Soft.
Small.
But real.
She nodded.
They embraced.
Brief.
Tight.
Then Keyla pulled away and turned.
And ran.
Back toward the palace.
Back to her room.
Eris watched her go.
Then turned—
And froze.
Because everyone…
Was staring at him.
Wide-eyed.
Silent.
Watching like he had just transformed into something entirely new.
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, his face heating up despite the cold rain.
"…Uh…"
He bowed quickly.
Then turned and fled.
The silence didn't last.
"Now that…"
The Emperor crossed his arms with satisfaction.
"…was part of the plan."
Don burst into laughter.
"My daughter's grown!"
Relief spread through the group like warmth after a long winter.
The tension that had gripped them since the previous night finally cracked.
And in its place—
Something lighter.
Something hopeful.
Nearby, Damis exchanged a glance with Lahan.
Both grinned.
Without hesitation, they pulled their partners close and kissed them.
Fredda and Aldera, blushing fiercely, exchanged looks before rushing into the rain.
"Keyla!"
They ran after her without hesitation.
The younger princes watched with wide smiles.
But not everyone understood.
Lord Lan sighed, folding his arms.
"…Why do I feel like we're strangers here?"
His gaze drifted across the group.
"I haven't understood anything since yesterday."
The Emperor only laughed.
A low, knowing laugh.
---
That night—
The rain did not fall only on the palace.
It spread.
Across lands.
Across kingdoms.
Across the entirety of the Third Continent.
And beyond.
It was as though the world itself had begun to stir.
Because far beyond the reach of kings and princes…
Fate had begun to move.
*******************
This world was called LUXARIEL.
Ancient.
Vast.
And scarred by time.
Thousands of years ago, all races lived as one.
There was harmony.
There was unity.
But peace… was never meant to last forever.
As populations grew, so did desire.
As desire grew, so did conflict.
And so—
They separated.
Each race carving out its own dominion.
Its own pride.
Its own hatred.
War followed.
Relentless.
Endless.
Until even war itself became too costly.
Resources dwindled.
Strength waned.
And the races withdrew further still.
Distance became survival.
Isolation became peace.
But peace built on distance is never stable.
Only temporary.
Then—
Twelve hundred years ago—
A prophecy emerged.
No one knew its origin.
No one knew who spoke it.
But it spread.
Like wildfire.
Like truth.
THEIR GREED GROWS AS THEIR POPULATIONS MULTIPLY.
FROM THE NORTH, THE NIGHT SHALL MAKE THE SNOW BLEED.
FROM THE SOUTH, FIRE SHALL DYE THE EARTH BLACK.
THE EGO OF LEADERS SHALL HINDER VICTORY.
WOMEN SHALL BEAR DAUGHTERS—GIFTS FROM THE HEAVENS—TO SOOTHE YOUR BROKEN BODIES.
SHALL A RULER ARISE WITH BENEVOLENCE AND FORESIGHT?
OR SHALL BLOOD DYE ALL RIVERS RED?
For a time, the prophecy was feared.
Studied.
Debated.
But time is a cruel eraser.
Generations passed.
And it was forgotten.
Reduced to whispers.
Then to myth.
Then to nothing.
Now
Six races.
Eighteen great kingdoms.
Hundreds of lesser nations.
And once again—
War had returned.
Now moving toward the Third Continent.
And under the falling rain…
Two young lives had shifted course.
Unknowingly stepping onto a path that would intertwine with something far greater than themselves.
Something ancient.
Something inevitable.
---
End of Arc One