Chapter 1: The Letter from the Capital
The village of Elowen sat on the edge of the kingdom's memory, where cobblestone roads faded into untamed forest, and legends were traded like gossip among children. It was here that Rael grew up, not as a prince or a demon lord's heir, but as a woodcutter's son.
Or so everyone thought.
The morning sun bathed the wooden cabin in golden light as Rael stepped outside, axe slung over his shoulder, eyes alert. Even at seventeen, he moved with unsettling grace. Quiet. Measured. His Silver hair fell messily across his face, but his eyes that shimmered like both sun and moon—unnatural, piercing—held an intelligence too old for his age.
He struck the first log.
Crack.
Then the second.
Crack.
He worked with the precision of someone who counted every heartbeat, every motion, every breath. A single misstep, a single surge of emotion, and the power inside him would stir again.
That same power had frightened a wolf pack three winters ago with nothing but a glance.
He couldn't explain it. He never could.
But he learned to hide it.
---
"Rael!" a voice called.
He paused, wiping sweat from his brow. Mira stood on the porch, her apron still dusted with flour. In her hands—an envelope sealed in crimson wax bearing the insignia of the Royal Capital.
His heart stopped.
She handed it over with both hands, almost reverently. "It came by falcon. No one else in the village got one."
Rael studied the seal. A sword, encircled by seven stars. The symbol of the Royal Academy of Magic and Swordsmanship.
Slowly, he broke the seal and unfolded the letter.
> "To Rael of Elowen,
You have been selected to attend the Royal Academy. Your recommendation comes from an anonymous source within the Council.
Present this letter within one month to secure your place.
The Flame of Humanity calls its protectors.
– Royal Academy Admissions Council."
Rael reread it twice. His chest tightened.
"Anonymous?" he muttered.
Mira smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "It means someone is watching. Someone who knows your worth."
---
That Night
The fire crackled gently as Tomas, Mira's husband, poured Rael a mug of tea. The old man's rough hands had once carved furniture and fences—but now they trembled slightly from age.
"I always knew there was something different about you," he said. "Found you in the ancient tree in the forest, wrapped in silk like a prince, crying so softly it barely stirred the wind."
Rael looked up. "Did you ever wonder why?"
Tomas nodded. "I did. Every day. But your mother—your real mother—left you hidden in that ancient tree not to abandon you, but to save you. That much was clear."
Rael's fingers traced the pendant around his neck—an old, cracked amulet. It had strange etchings he didn't understand, and sometimes, when he held it during storms, it would glow faintly with a red pulse.
He had no memories of that day. No recollection of his real parents' faces. But sometimes, in dreams, he would see a woman wrapped in silver light, running through fire and screams, holding something—someone—close.
Was that her?
He didn't know.
But the look in Tomas's eyes tonight told him something new.
"You want me to go," Rael said.
Mira, standing by the doorway, nodded gently. "You're not meant to live and die in this village, Rael. You're... different."
Different. Always that word.
What she didn't know was how true it was.
---
A Few Days Later: The Departure
The village gathered to see him off. Only a handful of people had ever left Elowen. A few merchants. A soldier. Never a student of magic.
Children watched him with wide eyes. Elders handed him bread and patted his shoulders with pride. And yet, Rael felt the weight of a different truth pressing on his back.
He wasn't just going to study.
He was going to find answers.
Answers to the dreams. The power. The reason why the flame inside him wouldn't die no matter how long he tried to suppress it.
He boarded the merchant caravan with one bag of clothes, the letter, and the pendant.
But something tugged at his mind as they left.
A whisper, like an echo from blood.
> "The Academy is a nest of secrets. Your truth sleeps in its shadows."
---
On the Road
The journey was long, and the other students quickly formed groups. Nobles clustered together, laughing with confidence. Some glared at Rael's plain clothes. Others ignored him entirely.
Rael preferred it that way.
He kept to himself.
But at night, when they camped, he wandered into the woods, far from prying eyes.
There, he trained—not with a sword, but with his hands.
Dark fire danced in his palms.
Not the fire of humans.
Something else.
Something older.
Something demonic.
He didn't know where it came from. He didn't remember anything about his true bloodline. He had no memories of the Hero mother who died to protect him, or the Demon Lord father who believed him lost.
But the power knew.
It remembered.
And so, Rael learned to control it—not because he wanted to be a hero.
But because one day, when the truth surfaced, when those who destroyed his mother came for him again...
He wouldn't be the one running this time.
He would be the one hunting.