The City of Viar, Capital of the Western Elvian Kingdom
Deep within the vast and uncharted forest, hidden and untouched by human hands, lies the City of Viar, the capital of the Western Elvian Kingdom. This city was built beneath the canopy of an extraordinary tree, known as the World Tree—a colossal, towering tree that reaches high into the clouds, its roots creeping deep into the earth, and its trunk so immense it seems to embrace the very sky. From afar, the World Tree appears as a living bridge connecting the mortal realm to the magical world, its wide branches stretching out in a protective canopy that shields the city below.
Every morning, a light mist hovers among the leaves of the World Tree, creating an atmosphere both mystical and serene. The sunlight, filtering through the gaps in the foliage, sparkles like a thousand diamonds suspended in the air, creating a breathtaking spectacle each time a foot touches the ground. The city is imbued with the rhythm of life, flowing in harmony with the energy radiating from the World Tree, which provides mana—the very lifeblood needed by the Elvian people to cast Esze, the magic that flows through their veins.
The buildings of Viar were crafted with great care, all constructed from natural materials that harm none of the life of the World Tree. Homes are made from the trunks of trees that are grown, shaped, and carved with magical powers, making them appear as if they sprout directly from the earth. The roofs are curved, woven from the large leaves growing from the branches, offering protection from the rain and sun while allowing the forest's winds to blow freely. The city lacks the hard roads found in other settlements. Instead, its paths are made of soft earth, interwoven with the roots of trees, creating elegant natural patterns. Every corner of the city is bathed in green, with vines crawling up the walls and pillars of the buildings.
Life in the city moves with a gentle rhythm, full of harmony. The Elvians walk gracefully, yet swiftly, as though they, too, are part of the land itself. Merchants peddle the forest's bounty and rare medicinal herbs that can only be found in these woods, while youths practice archery and cast Esze in the town square beneath the shade of the World Tree. Each morning, the Arcanists perform rituals and sing praises in devotion to the World Tree. The wise priests teach the young of their history, the magical powers of the World Tree, and how to control the mana flowing through the earth and air around them.
The citizens, mostly Elvians and other magical beings, walk with grace and care, maintaining harmony with the land. They wear light garments made from natural silks, woven by the expert hands of the city's artisans, gleaming softly beneath the light of the World Tree. The sounds of laughter and conversation fill the air, while the fragrant aroma of flowers and damp forest surrounds them.
Along the river that flows clear beneath the city, the water is so pure it seems untouched by human hands. Along this river grow rare flowers and medicinal plants that can only thrive under the World Tree. The people are often seen gathering these flowers, using their Esze to tend to them, weaving them into the fabric of their lives, which are filled with balance and tranquility.
Viar, though nestled deep in the heart of the Elvian forest, stands as a center of knowledge and immense magical power. Every inch of its soil holds ancient secrets, known only to a few. And above all, the World Tree continues to give life to them, its heart pulsating with magical energy that flows throughout the kingdom.
Not far from the World Tree stands the Zharxisct Royal Palace, the center of power in Western Elvian Kingdom. This majestic structure seems to be a living work of art, filled with beauty drawn from nature and the purest magical force. The palace was not built with stone or brick, but with wood that has been enchanted and reinforced by the mana drawn from the World Tree. The wood glows faintly, as though it absorbs the essence of life flowing from the great tree, giving it infinite strength.
The towering pillars supporting the palace resemble giant trees, their branches stretching toward the sky, touching the clouds. The walls are made from magically enchanted wood that emits a soft, multicolored light, creating patterns that shift slowly, like the shadows of trees dancing in the moonlight.
Inside the palace, the blending of nature's beauty and flowing magic creates a surreal harmony. The floors are made from gleaming crystal, reflecting the light that filters through the large stained-glass windows, which depict endless natural landscapes. Each room in the palace is adorned with curtains made of fine silks, hanging from the ceilings and shifting in color as the light changes.
In the main hall, there is no common furniture. Instead, chairs made of living wood, surrounded by carefully tended vines, fill the space. At the center of the room stands a large table of enchanted glass, filled with glowing liquid that reflects maps and ever-changing magical symbols, depicting the constant movement of the world.
Throughout the palace, selected elves and wizards perform small rituals to strengthen the palace's defenses and maintain the balance of mana flowing from the World Tree. The palace guards wear armor forged from iron strengthened with protective spells, their weapons glowing softly with pure energy.
Life in the palace is usually calm, yet today it is filled with an unsettling tension that permeates the whole of Viar. The uproar emanates from a room not far from the throne room. It is the chamber of judgment, where the Grand Court convenes for the most serious trial held in the past few centuries.
The large room is packed with the tense faces of nobles and royal officials, each with their own vested interests. The enchanted wooden walls, once imbued with an aura of calm, now feel stifling, as if even they sense the tension in the air. The soft light filtering through the stained-glass windows only intensifies the atmosphere, casting long shadows across the gleaming courtroom table.
At the center of the room stands Prince Keylan, his hands bound in front of him, standing as a defendant, his face cold and filled with guilt. Across from him sits a man over five hundred years old, though his Elvian features make him appear no older than a human in his thirties. He is Melvinz-Zell, the ruling king of the Western Elvian Kingdom and Keylan's own father, seated on the royal throne, his face unreadable, but his powerful aura enveloping the entire room. Around him are members of the royal family and high-ranking nobles, all invited to witness this trial, their tension palpable. They await the final decision—whether Prince Keylan will be sentenced according to the law or released, given his status as a prince.
The trial, which has reached its final moments, now devolves into a heated debate between two factions, each holding a vastly different view on Keylan's actions. The calm atmosphere that once prevailed has erupted into chaos, as loud voices clash, breaking the silence that once reigned.
Lord Dalvran-Jeux, an elder noble renowned for his wisdom, stood firm. "His Highness, Keylan-Zell, has done what was necessary; he is broad-minded and able to assess the situation with great care. The one who accidentally broke the seal of Strigifavorus has already defeated the monster, and we must view this as a heroic act!"
Supportive cheers rang out from his faction, some nobles nodding in agreement, while others remained silent, listening intently.
However, Lady Marlis-Kri, a young and headstrong noblewoman, immediately rose with a swift movement, opposing him. "Such actions cannot be justified, Lord Dalvran-Jeux! A perpetrator who has broken the seal of the legendary monster, Strigifavorus, must not be allowed to walk free! We cannot simply turn a blind eye to the thousands of lives lost due to the chaos caused by that monster. His Highness, Keylan-Zell, may have had good intentions, but the loss of hundreds of lives outweighs mere intentions!"
Lady Marlis-Kri spoke passionately, her face flushed with anger. The members of her family, seated behind her, nodded in support, though some began to look uneasy.
Lord Dalvran-Jeux responded in a sharp tone, "Do not speak like that, Lady Marlis-Kri! If His Highness, Keylan-Zell, were to arrest the one who defeated Strigifavorus, our people would be branded as a nation without honor! What would make us any different from those lowly humans, those shameless creatures!"
The pro-Keylan faction began to shout louder, some nobles seemingly ready to stand and defend the Prince, while the opposing faction held their ground.
Lord Gallen-Ould, an elder noble who appeared more composed than the others, spoke, his deep voice resonating through the room. "Indeed, until now we have known nothing of Strigifavorus, which was long considered a mere myth. But how could humans and Haier-Elvian have known of its existence and broken its seal? It cannot be mere coincidence."
"Yes, that's true! Someone must have told these humans and guided them here!"
"There is a traitor who seeks to destroy our land!"
The murmurs of anger from the opposing faction grew louder, and several nobles began to stand, their faces red with fury.
Prince Keylan, who had remained silent throughout the debate, stared down, a heavy weight pressing on his chest. He knew that this decision would determine his fate, yet his heart felt no relief despite the growing support from his allies.
King Melvinz-Zell, who had been silent until now, raised his hand, requesting attention. His voice, heavy and commanding, filled the room. "Enough!" he commanded, his voice echoing like thunder. "We will accomplish nothing by continuing this endless debate. The decision rests in my hands. Keylan, you are the Prince of this Kingdom. Yet the decisions you made have brought chaos that cannot be overlooked."
A brief silence fell. All eyes turned to King Melvinz-Zell, who now fixed his unreadable gaze upon Keylan.
But in that instant, the booming voice of Lord Keldric-Pasl, a noble renowned for his pragmatic nature and often dismissive of emotions, broke the silence. "I think this is quite clear. His Highness, Keylan-Zell, must be punished! We cannot allow a Prince to be above the law just because he believes his actions are justified. This is not about heroism or gratitude—it is about the law! About the lives of our people! Someone must take responsibility for this tragedy, or we will lose the trust of the people in this kingdom."
Voices erupted in heated disagreement. Some nobles supporting Keylan cried out in defense, while the opposition grew louder, emphasizing legal rights and the morality of the kingdom. The calm that had once reigned in the courtroom was now replaced by mounting anger, the voices clashing like thunder, shattering the previous stillness.
"Let me mention one thing, Your Majesty," said an Elvian with a handsome face and short hair. His attire stood out in contrast to the others, marking him as one not from the common folk.
It was Erzwayn-Zell, the Crown Prince of the Western Elvian Kingdom, who sat in the corner of the room, a faint smile on his lips. He raised his hand high, and immediately, all eyes turned to him. The atmosphere, which had nearly descended into chaos, settled in an instant. Erzwayn, with his cold and calculating expression, requested permission from King Melvinz-Zell, the leader of the trial, to speak.
"Before we become ensnared in this endless debate, allow me to present one fact that should be considered in the decision. Prince Keylan, the Third Prince, welcomed the Haier-Elvian girl, the very one who broke the seal of Strigifavorus in the city of Arnest!" Erzwayn spoke with an emphasis, turning everyone's gaze toward Keylan. Many were taken aback by this revelation, especially those who had supported Keylan until now. King Melvinz-Zell, hearing this accusation, closed his eyes, his face—once filled with authority—now furrowing with concern.
Erzwayn had never been fond of Keylan, as he believed the prince posed a threat to his own claim to the throne. Although Keylan had once stated he had no interest in the throne, many believed that Keylan's capabilities and talent would make him a more competent ruler than Erzwayn.
"As a Prince, he should have prioritized his own people over others. But look at what he has done now! He welcomed the perpetrator as an honored guest, then allowed her to slaughter his own people."
"I never had such intentions!" Keylan retorted firmly, his sharp gaze directed at his older brother. "I welcomed her as a guest because I wanted there to be different treatment for other races!"
"But look at what happened! That Haier-Elvian girl wreaked havoc, destroying the city of Arnest and killing its people! This is what you get when you try to coexist with another race—they will only destroy us!"
"Anggi never intended such a thing! It was just an accident!"
Erzwayn's smile widened, as though savoring his victory. "Oh, look at that! This Prince is defending the murderer to the death and cares nothing for his own people. What an irony!"
Erzwayn finished his words with a sharp glare at Keylan, as though aiming to push him into the deepest pit, despite Keylan being his own brother.
With those words, the atmosphere in the courtroom grew even more heated. The faction that had once supported Keylan began to fracture, some nobles exchanging uneasy glances, beginning to doubt the defense they had once passionately upheld. Meanwhile, the opposition, who had long mistrusted Keylan's actions, began to cheer, voicing their condemnation even more loudly.
"His Highness, Keylan-Zell, opened the door to the massacre of the Elvian people!" cried Lady Marlis-Kri, one of the staunchest opponents of Keylan. "How can we allow such a person to go free? He has brought disaster upon us all!"
The echoes of anger reverberated through the room, and some of the nobles who had previously remained neutral began to shift, strengthening the claims against Keylan. They voiced their opposition to him with firmness, as though they could no longer suppress their blazing fury.
The tension reached its breaking point, nearly spiraling into uncontrollable chaos. But amidst the uproar, King Melvinz-Zell's commanding voice rang out, silencing the room with its authority.
"Order!" the King bellowed, his voice like thunder splitting the sky, halting all noise in an instant. "Everyone, please maintain order in the court!"
The courtroom, once filled with clamor, fell deathly quiet, the only sound the heavy breathing of the nobles still in shock. King Melvinz-Zell gazed down at Prince Keylan, his look cautious and measured, before asking, "Prince Keylan, is the truth of this accusation... true? Did you indeed welcome that Haier-Elvian girl with open arms?"
Keylan, who had remained silent until now, his face full of regret, finally raised his head. His voice was heavy with sorrow. "Yes, Your Majesty... It is true. I welcomed that girl in the city of Ruvia. At that time, I meant to use her as a bridge for coexistence with humans. I never intended to bring disaster upon the Elvian people in any way."
The answer shook the room. Those who had once supported Keylan could no longer speak in his defense, while the opposition grew even stronger in their condemnation, further reinforcing their attacks.
King Melvinz-Zell sighed deeply, the weight of the decision bearing down on him. His heart was torn, as both a king and a father who represented all of Elvian. On one hand, Keylan was his son—his beloved child. On the other, Keylan's actions had caused untold destruction to his people.
After a long pause, King Melvinz-Zell stood, his eyes filled with wisdom, yet behind that gaze was a firm judgment. He took a deep breath, as if weighing the consequences of the decision he was about to make.
"I have heard enough about your actions, Prince Keylan," the King spoke in a deep voice. "Your decisions have brought extraordinary consequences. I, Melvinz-Zell, as the King of this kingdom, cannot close my eyes to actions that endanger our people. Therefore, I declare you, Keylan-Zell, the Third Prince of the Western Elvian Kingdom, guilty of your actions that led to the loss of hundreds of innocent lives, and I pronounce two sentences upon you."
All eyes turned to the King, who now stood tall before Prince Keylan.
"The first sentence," King Melvinz-Zell continued in a heavy voice, "is the removal of your position as the Supreme Commander of the Elvian Military."
The King's decision was met with a sharp silence. Some present lowered their heads, as if feeling the weight of the decision. Prince Keylan, still standing upright, tried to remain strong, though guilt gnawed at his heart.
"And for the second sentence," the King continued, his voice even deeper, "is the confinement of Muzigs Cietum."
The room fell silent once more, the atmosphere growing cold and oppressive. The once lively atmosphere had become suffocating. Everyone stood frozen, their eyes wide with shock. Muzigs Cietum—one of the harshest punishments in Elvian law—was a form of confinement almost worse than death. The person sentenced to Muzigs Cietum would have their five senses and Esze circuits sealed forever. They would know nothing of freedom, trapped in darkness and silence until their body rotted away in the empty prison, dying slowly. This was why the punishment was considered worse than death itself.
All present could feel the enormity of the decision, a decision that seemed to end Prince Keylan's life with one sweep of the hand.
In that suffocating silence, King Melvinz-Zell added, "That is my final decision for you. With this, the trial is concluded." Melvinz-Zell turned sharply and left the room, his face hard. He feared that staying longer would cloud his judgment, especially after delivering such a harsh sentence to his beloved son.
Prince Keylan, unable to say another word, could only bow his head, accepting the punishment that had been dealt to him. The courtroom erupted into hushed murmurs once again, as the nobles observed with anxious eyes.