Upon seeing the baby, the soldiers were terrified, murmuring amongst themselves, debating what to do. Their grey armor, marked by subtle scratches and armbands bearing Dirfazia's solar emblem, clinked as they approached, faces hardened by hatred.
— {This is surely a bad omen! They're trying to destroy us from within. It's a trick from these monsters to kill us!} — one of the soldiers thought, his heart racing.
— Hey, did you see that symbol? It's the symbol of the Three Princes of Akatlon! I don't know how this baby ended up here, but we have to get rid of it immediately. It's clearly a symbol of destruction! — exclaimed the soldier who found the baby, his brown eyes wide.
— Yes, we really must. We'll be doing the kingdom a favor, eliminating this descendant of those monsters who, since ancient times, pollute Turfazia with their filthy presence — added the soldier to the right, pointing his sword at the baby with a look of contempt.
— That's right! Kill this baby immediately! — shouted the soldier on the left, gripping his comrade's shoulder tightly.
— Kill! Kill! Kill! — echoed the nearby soldiers, inciting the attack with voices laden with hatred.
Seeing the commotion, the commander of the city wall soldiers ran to the gates to understand the uproar. As he passed through the gates, he saw a group of soldiers gathered around something.
The strongest of the group raised his sword, imbuing it with powerful magic that crackled in the air.
— Vanish, detestable being! — the soldier bellowed, attacking the baby with full force.
The instant the sword approached, the third eye symbol on the baby's forehead glowed intensely, activating a protective barrier. It reflected the attack with doubled force, flinging the nearby soldiers away in an explosion that shook the ground.
The commander, witnessing the scene, observed the explosion and the flung soldiers. Furious, he yelled: — What are you doing? Are you insane?
— Sir, we are merely fulfilling our oath to destroy all threats to the kingdom! We found this Katlonian baby and decided to eliminate it. It is no ordinary baby, for it bears the symbol of the Three Princes of Akatlon — justified the attacking soldier, still breathless, his dusty blonde hair matted to his forehead.
— You cannot make decisions on your own! There is a hierarchy, and it must be respected. I am the commander, and these matters must be reported to me before any action! Besides, he is just a baby. He poses no threat whatsoever! — the commander reprimanded, his voice filled with irritation.
— Yes, sir. This will never happen again — the soldiers replied, heads bowed, as dust settled around them.
{Despite being just a baby, he didn't cry for a moment...}
{...Well, now I will take this baby to the king so he can decide the child's fate.} — the commander thought, impressed by the baby's calm.
The commander picked up the baby inside the box, cradling it carefully. As he held it, he noticed its very light brown skin and light orange eyes, a color so distinct he had never seen it in Dirfazia, despite the many eye colors in the kingdom. Before heading to the castle, he announced to the guards that he had urgent business to discuss with the king.
As the commander approached the entrance to the throne room, his dull grey armor creaked with each step. It was identical to that of Dirfazia's common soldiers, except for the dark blue cape that fluttered behind him, fastened by a brooch with Dirfazia's solar emblem. At the door, the royal guards wore shimmering silver armor with golden details, engraved with magic runes that pulsed softly, and short red capes that rippled, contrasting with the grey, scratched breastplates of the wall soldiers, marked by armbands with Dirfazia's solar emblem. Upon arrival, the guards struck their spears on the ground, a ceremonial gesture announcing the guest's arrival.
— You may enter — the king authorized, his grave voice echoing through the room.
The double doors of polished white marble opened, revealing the throne room. Walls of polished white stone, adorned with light tapestries of Dirfazia's solar symbol in white and gold tones, reflected a soft light that seemed to emanate from the floor. White columns supported the high ceiling, and, in the center, a white marble throne, carved with golden solar emblems, rose upon steps. The commander advanced with the baby's box in his hands. His footsteps echoed on the white floor, and he noticed the king seated on the throne with his black hair falling to his shoulders and green eyes observing the box.
The king's scarlet tunic, beneath a red cloak with golden edges, covered his body, crowned by a golden crown inlaid with glittering jewels. In his hand, a short scepter with a solar emblem rested firmly. The commander stopped before the throne and, kneeling, his cape brushed the floor. He bowed his head in reverence.
— You may raise your head. What matter has brought you to me with such urgency? — the king asked, leaning on the throne with the ring bearing Dirfazia's solar symbol shining on his hand.
— My king, during a patrol, the soldiers found this — the commander said, carefully opening the box, revealing the baby.
— A Katlonian baby... But he is no ordinary one. He bears the symbol of the Three Princes of Akatlon! — the king observed with disdain, frowning. — Why did you bring this filthy being into my presence? Kill him immediately!
The commander, worried as he remembered what happened when the soldiers attacked the baby, began to hesitantly draw his sword.
At that moment, Counselor Charles entered the room. His elderly figure, with short white hair and light purple, lavender-like eyes, exuded an aura of wisdom and contained power, marks of a powerful, now retired mage. Wearing a long grey tunic, he widened his eyes at the sight of the baby and intervened:
— My king, I beg you! Do not kill this baby. He can be useful to us in the war against the Katlonians. We can raise him our way, turning him into an extremely strong soldier. Thus, we will use their power against themselves and gain valuable information about our enemies — Charles suggested, with an urgent tone.
After reflecting, the king replied: — Hmmm... Alright, Charles. I will grant mercy because of your request, but know that everything will be your responsibility. If anything goes wrong, we will kill this Katlonian immediately!
Charles left the king's presence with a wide grin, thinking: {As if it would be easy to kill him...} Aware of the baby's power, he pressed on.
— Guards, find a woman to care for this child immediately! — he ordered, with forced enthusiasm.
Casting a spell on the child that hid the symbol on its forehead, Charles declared: — This child shall be named Arthur.
Five years passed, and Arthur was with his foster mother under the shade of an apple tree, where the gentle wind swayed the leaves.
He asked: — Mommy, why do I have to stay here, trapped in the castle? Why can't I go out and play with the other children?
— Arthur, you must stay here because the king has decided so. Do not question him — she replied with a sharp voice, exhausted from patience.
— But, Mommy, why? — Arthur insisted with curious eyes.
{I've lost five years of my life caring for this child, feigning an affection I don't feel. I can't take this anymore...} — the woman thought, frustrated, as she squeezed the cloth in her hands.
With that thought, she lost control and slapped Arthur hard, making him fall to the ground with a red, bruised cheek. Even so, he didn't cry. He slowly got up, approached her, who was weeping copiously, and hugged her tenderly.
— Hey! We saw you hit the child the king took in! You will be duly punished — announced a soldier who had been watching everything, a cruel smile on his face.
The soldier grabbed the woman, a commoner from Dirfazia's poorer districts with disheveled black hair, by her hair and dragged her away, ignoring her screams. Arthur stood motionless, paralyzed, tears slowly streaming down his face. He didn't know it, but that would be the last time he saw his foster mother.
Later, Charles called Arthur to a room and, with firmness, declared: — From now on, for three months, you will be trained daily by different soldiers to learn how to wield a sword. When magic classes begin at Dirfazia's Magic Academy, you will be sent there. Know that the academy is attended only by the children of the kingdom's most influential nobles. Behave well and do not cause trouble. Remember: you are only alive because I asked the king. Do not make me regret that decision.
Charles stared at him with a severe gaze, leaving Arthur slightly intimidated.
Days passed, and the training began. However, the soldiers used the training as an excuse to beat Arthur, taking out their hatred for the Katlonians on him. Day after day, he was humiliated and assaulted, but he never complained or cried. Despite the beatings, Arthur learned quickly, his sword movements becoming more precise and stronger. In the final training sessions, after three months, he almost defeated a soldier, blocking blows and counter-attacking with surprising strength for his age. Another soldier intervened, pushing him to the ground to prevent his victory, with a look of contempt. Months later, Dirfazia's Magic Academy announced its opening for new students, and Arthur was taken there in a carriage along with Charles.
Full of hope, Arthur thought that upon entering the academy, his life would change for the better. He barely noticed the time passing and, before he knew it, the carriage had already stopped before the gates.
— Remember what I said. Behave — Charles warned as he stepped out of the carriage, in a serious tone.
— Yes, sir! — Arthur replied determinedly, with a faint sparkle in his eyes.
Arthur was left before the academy's first gate, which slowly opened. As the doors moved, an intense light escaped through the cracks, illuminating his face and warming his skin.
{Finally, things will get better.} — Arthur thought, hope in his heart.