"I'm actually at the king's palace…" Derkile whispered in amazement.
"It's so huge and beautiful…" he mumbled in awe, staring up at the towering structure.
The castle stood tall and round, built from rare materials. Its walls shimmered with the glow of countless magic stones embedded into its design. At the very top, a massive, bright green stone radiated energy, pulsing as if it breathed life into the entire palace.
Derkile wondered how long it had taken to build such a marvel but quickly reminded himself that with sorcerers, even the most impossible structures could rise in the blink of an eye. Powerful magic had replaced time itself.
Now, however, he faced another problem: what to do. He knew nowhere to go.
This must be the polling area, he thought, noticing the cluster of smaller houses surrounding the palace. Only the wealthy and influential could live here, though everyone knew it was unfair. Still, no one dared question the king.
Beside the polling area stretched a bustling marketplace. People crowded the streets, trading food, tools, daily goods but most importantly, magic stones.
Stalls displayed stones of every size, shape, and color, each glowing faintly with hidden power. People bought them for two reasons: protection and strength. Some also used them as lavish decorations for their homes. But magic stones were so valuable that even the weakest was out of reach for commoners. Only the rich, like those living in the polling area, could afford them.
Derkile wandered with no destination, grateful at least to be out of the forest. Tomorrow was the day he was meant to arrive at the palace yet fate had brought him here early. As he mulled over his situation, a sharp cry broke through the crowd.
A woman was screaming.
"Leave me alone, you jerks!"
Derkile hesitated. He didn't want to intrude, but the desperation in her voice made the choice for him. In a blur, he sprinted down the street and reached the scene within moments.
Three men cornered a woman. They looked only a little older than him. One, an ugly brute with brown hair and a round face like a watermelon, held her by the wrist. He raised his hand to strike her only for it to be caught mid-swing.
"What?! Who are you and how dare you grab me?!" the man roared.
Derkile didn't answer. His reflexes took over , he spun and kicked, striking the man square in the torso. The brute flew backward, smashing into the wall of a nearby house and crumpling unconscious.
The other two froze in disbelief. One blow had sent their friend flying. Fear overcame courage—they turned and ran for their lives.
The woman stood wide-eyed, staring at Derkile as if he were some legendary warrior.
"Are you… a high-ranking soldier?" she whispered, shocked.
The man on the ground groaned, clutching his stomach. Derkile glanced at him, then turned to the woman.
"You'd better leave quickly before they come back. I might not be here next time."
"Thank you," she said breathlessly. "I really appreciate what you did. Please, at least let me take you home to my father so I can repay you."
"No. I'm in a hurry. Maybe next time… if we meet again."
"Then at least your name? Can I know your name?"
Derkile hesitated. Should he tell her? Finally, he decided.
"My name… is Derkile."
And with that, he walked away, leaving her staring after him in confusion.
I've never heard of any general named Derkile. Could it be he's not a soldier? And why were his clothes covered in blood? she wondered, before hurrying home.
---
That night, Derkile found shelter in an abandoned clothing stall. Breaking the old lock, he slipped inside, changed into cleaner clothes, and finally allowed himself to rest.
But his mind refused to be still.
He thought of the strange dream from the night before its meaning still eluded him, yet the memory sent chills down his spine. He remembered how he had been merged with a lion by a magic stone, how he had gained supernatural abilities, and how consuming the beast's dark energy had made him stronger.
Only now did he realize what that energy was: fear. Somehow, fear itself fueled his power.
Derkile longed to uncover the truth about himself, but this was not the place. He would have to wait for the right moment.
Exhausted, he finally drifted into sleep.
---
"Ah-no!" Derkile bolted upright the next morning. The sun was already high. He was late.
Without hesitation, he dashed from the stall toward the towering castle. His speed was so great that those he passed felt only a sudden gust of wind. Within seconds, he had nearly reached the gates then slowed to a walk so as not to draw attention.
"These powers…" he whispered in awe, "…they're incredible."
At the massive gates, armed royal guards stood watch. One fixed his sharp eyes on Derkile.
"Hey, you there. Are you one of those chosen to come today?"
"Yes, sir," Derkile replied calmly.
"Then why didn't the stone bring you directly inside the castle?"
"It transported me to the polling area," Derkile said half-truth, half-lie.
The guard snorted. "Hmph. Weak stones. Others have been misplaced as well. The king ordered all arrivals to be tested."
He held up a glowing magic stone. A scanning light swept over Derkile, surrounding him in a strange glow. The stone pulsed affirmatively—the boy was indeed one of the chosen.
The gates opened with a heavy creak. Derkile stepped inside.
A crowd awaited within, filled with young men and women. Some whispered nervously, others stood in silence. Derkile scanned each face, noting every detail.
He himself had jet-black hair and dark eyes, though ever since the incident, his pupils sometimes flickered yellow. He stood tall and striking though he barely realized it, for he hadn't looked in a mirror in a long time. It was probably the work of his new powers.
As he surveyed the crowd, a tap on his shoulder caught his attention. He turned to see a short boy with black hair, green eyes, and a friendly smile.
"Uh, sorry to bother you," the boy said nervously, "but do you know how we'll be selected? I'm… kind of nervous."
Derkile shook his head. "No idea. I was wondering the same thing."
"Oh. Alright. Thanks anyway."
"No problem."
The conversation ended quickly, though the boy's nervousness lingered in his expression.
Just then, Derkile's heightened senses picked up something strange. A faint, unfamiliar scent drifted through the castle air nsomething only he could detect. He was about to focus on it when a guard's booming voice silenced the hall.
"Welcome the royal majesty!"
The king had arrived.
---
End of Chapter 3