The following two years passed in a gentle blur of laughter, learning, and luxury.
Ash spent most of his days roaming the capital with his sisters — seeing its wonders, tasting exotic foods, and observing the intricacies of empire from behind veils of noble privilege. Despite his status, he still acted very much like a boy — curious, clever, and increasingly aware of the magnitude of the name he carried.
Now, at six years old, he stood before a polished obsidian mirror in his chamber, arms folded behind his back.
His hair — a messy crown of ashen grey — had grown longer and wilder. His skin bore a light brown hue, sun-kissed and smooth, a tone only found among the Neyru. His eyes, however, had sharpened. Still bright, but quieter — calculating.
"Little Ash, how long are you going to admire yourself?"
The voice came from Selvira, the ever-sardonic middle princess. She leaned against the doorframe, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.
Ash turned, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish grin.
"I can't help it, sis. I mean, just look at me — don't I look good?"
"Hehe… whatever you say, little narcissist."
Moments later, Nyssari stepped in, her voice curious as ever.
"Any idea when our brothers are coming home? It's been six years…"
Ash perked up. Like many others, he'd heard the legends of the Four Imperial Princes. Warriors— each said to command the power of a thousand men. He wanted to meet them. To understand the legacy, he would one day stand beside… or surpass.
"They'll be back in five years at most," Ary replied, entering behind her sisters. "They have to stay in the lower worlds until the first batch of talents awaken."
Ash furrowed his brow.
"Why do they have to recruit from lower worlds anyway? Aren't we strong enough already?"
His innocent question caused a brief silence to fall. They were told to keep the word of prophecy away from his ears. This decision was made by Selyra this is because she didn't want to force a path onto him.
Ary opened her mouth to answer — but was interrupted by a sudden, sharp knock on the chamber doors.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
"Princesses. Prince Ash. Their Majesties await you in the Grand Hall."
--
Carved from moonstone and skyglass, the Grand Hall shimmered like starlight incarnate. Magical scripts pulsed across the walls — fragments of ancient laws and vows, encoded with divine enforcement.
At the far end sat Emperor Vaerion and Empress Selyra, cloaked in full imperial regalia.
Ash approached with his sisters, eyes wide and heart steady. Despite his young age, he carried himself with a quiet poise that made even court ministers take notice.
Vaerion looked him over.
"Ash," he said, voice deep and even. "Today, you begin your training. You are of the Neyru bloodline — not a figurehead, but a warrior."
He gestured to his right, and from the side of the throne stepped a woman.
She was tall, with obsidian-black hair bound in silver cords, and eyes like sharpened onyx. Her armor was dark, sleek, and laced with sealing runes. A long scar ran down one side of her face, though it did nothing to diminish her harsh beauty.
"This is Selene Dorne," Vaerion said.
"A master of blade and body. She will be your combat instructor from this day forward."
Ash nodded respectfully. Selene returned the gesture with a shallow bow — expression unreadable, eyes already analyzing his posture, his breath, his potential.
Then, Vaerion turned to his daughters.
"Ary, Selvira, Nyssari. You three have a different task."
"Our old rival stirs again — the Ilyron Clan."
"As you know, For millions of years, they have vied against us in shadow and silence. Their Empire lies far beyond our direct reach, but they've never ceased plotting. Recently, we've confirmed movements — subtle political infiltration attempts, questionable border shifts in some of our worlds, and encrypted soul-flux transmissions in key sectors."
Selyra stepped forward.
"You will travel to our outer systems — those closest to Ilyron-controlled space. Investigate. Confirm. Do not act unless necessary — but know that your findings may determine the next thousand years of peace… or conflict."
The sisters straightened.
"Understood," Ary said coolly.
"If I find even a hint of Ilyron's poison, I'll burn it out," Selvira murmured.
"Sounds like fun," Nyssari grinned.
As the princesses turned to leave, Ash looked around — at his siblings, his instructor, his parents — and felt it.
His life was no longer one of comfort. It was one of preparation.
The world was shifting.
The old rivalries were awakening.
And he… would be forged in the center of it all.