Aiden's eyes snapped open, his breath ragged, heart hammering against his ribs. The canopy of his bed loomed above him, draped in black silk embroidered with gold — no flames, no smoke, only the morning light spilling soft and warm across carved stone walls.
The cool morning air of Ashkar's palace washed over him, and the dream burned away.
The chamber was wide and open, its walls carved of pale stone, banners of crimson and silver hanging heavy in the corners. The scent of burning incense lingered, not fire, not death — home. His home.
A knock at the door pulled him back fully to the present.
"Aiden," came the soft, familiar voice. "You'll be late for council if you don't rise."
Elizabeth.
He breathed out slowly, steadying himself, before opening the door. There she stood — tall, brown hair braided neatly over her shoulder, her green eyes filled with warmth that never seemed to fade. The same green as Serenya's. His throat always tightened when he looked at her, though he never said why.
"Mother,"
Elizabeth smiled, reaching to adjust the collar of his tunic like she had when he was small. "You didn't sleep again."
"I slept enough," Aiden said, brushing her hands away with mock annoyance. His grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Dreams just keep trying to keep me entertained."
"You're still cocky even in your sleep," she teased. But her hand lingered on his cheek for a moment, her thumb brushing his skin like she couldn't help herself. "Eat before the council, please. David will scowl at both of us if you don't."
As if summoned,
"Elizabeth."
David, King of Ashkar.
He filled the doorway — broad-shouldered, iron-backed, with a short grey beard streaked with white, and silver fox hair. His black eyes carried the weight of decades of war, cold to most, but when they landed on Aiden, something softer stirred beneath the surface.
"You'll spoil him," David said gruffly, stepping into the chamber.
Elizabeth only smiled. "And you won't spoil him at all."
David snorted, crossing his arms. "I've no intention of it. He's already arrogant enough."
Aiden swung his legs over the bed, standing. Taller now, sharper in feature, his voice carried more weight than most grown men in Ashkar. Still, he flashed a cocky grin at David. "If I'm arrogant, Father, it's only because I've earned it."
"And what exactly have you earned?" David's brow lifted.
"You remember." Aiden replied without hesitation, his voice even.
Silence hung for a beat. Elizabeth's lips tightened, but she didn't speak.
David's eyes narrowed. "You fight too often. You kill too young. One day, the price will come due."
Aiden shrugged, a flicker of a grin tugging at his lips. "Then I'll pay it. Easy."
Elizabeth stepped forward quickly, her voice sharp with fear. "Aiden—"
But he was already moving past her, pulling his cloak around his shoulders. The air shifted as he walked — that strange weight his voice and presence carried now. Not a boy. Not even just an heir. Ashkar's people spoke his name with reverence, with loyalty. He had become their fire, their promise of survival.
"lets go mother, father."
----
The heavy bronze doors of the council chamber groaned open.
Aiden strode in at his father's side, the long tassels of his heir's earrings swaying with each step, his black fur-collared coat trailing like a mantle of authority. The coat's golden clasps gleamed under the firelight, the embroidery catching every flicker as if alive. His eyes — ember red with a faint trace of gold in the depths — scanned the room, playful at first glance but cold enough to silence any who thought him still a boy.
The chamber was vast, a round hall of black marble, its domed ceiling etched with the history of Ashkar's conquests. Around the war-table sat the kingdom's highest figures: generals in polished armor, advisors draped in robes of velvet and steel, merchants whose wealth funded the armies, and priests whose blessings steadied them all. Maps and markers littered the table's surface, kingdoms and armies laid bare beneath candlelight.
At the head sat King David, broad-shouldered and grim, his black eyes unreadable. Beside him took her place Queen Elizabeth, the normal soft and war queen. But this was no place for softness — today, her gaze was steel.
Aiden did not bow as he sat, though he gave his father a smirk and his mother a grin. Every eye followed him. He didn't care.
One of the older generals cleared his throat, his voice booming. "The war against Volkrath grows darker by the day. Their raids cut deeper into our lands. If they unite with the northern clans, our borders will crumble. We cannot afford reckless action."
"Which is exactly why we don't cower behind borders," Aiden cut in, leaning forward on the table, his hands pressed against the maps. His rings glinted as he tapped the capital, a city wrapped in jagged mountains. "We strike here. We take their throat before they sink their fangs deeper into us."
Murmurs broke out instantly. Advisors exchanged alarmed glances, merchants paled, and even the younger commanders shifted uncomfortably.
"A siege?" one councilor barked. "Madness! We'd lose half the army before even reaching their gates."
"Not if you let me do it." Aiden's grin was sharp, almost cruel in its confidence. "My squad. Just three of us — Elias, Camryn, and myself. We get in, we tear the heart from their chest, and the rest of the body dies before it can strike."
Gasps rattled the chamber. Someone scoffed aloud. Another shouted, "Three against an entire kingdom? Boy, your arrogance—"
"Boy?" Aiden's laughter rang cold, though his ember eyes burned with mischief. He leaned back, arms folding across his chest. "You must've missed the songs then. The Valley of Death."
The chamber went silent.
Every person in the room knew the story. The orc horde, two hundred strong, that had surged out of the canyons last winter. Ashkar's army was days away. The valley village would have been slaughtered. And yet three figures entered the valley and none of the orcs walked out alive.
The reckless mage, throwing himself into impossible spellwork, nearly burning his veins dry. The fiery blade, her blonde hair matted with blood as she carved through orc after orc, falling more than once but rising again under healing light. And Aiden — whose fire burned the valley to ash, whose sword never missed, whose laughter rang in the chaos of death.
That day, the Prince of Chaos was born.
"Two hundred orcs," Aiden said, voice low, deliberate. His smirk returned as he met the general's eyes. "And tell me, General… how many of your men would have walked away from that?"
The silence was heavy. No one answered.
Elizabeth's hand tightened around the edge of her chair, her green eyes flicking with both pride and fear. David's jaw worked, his black eyes locked on his son's, weighing the steel in his voice.
One of the merchants finally muttered, "It was reckless. It should have been impossible."
Aiden's smirk sharpened. "And yet, here I sit. Which makes it history, not recklessness."
He pushed himself up, his coat sweeping behind him as he turned toward the table once more. His finger pressed hard against Volkrath's capital.
"Let me lead this strike. Not with hesitation. Not with half the army bleeding on their walls. With three. Myself, Elias, and Camryn. We succeed, Volkrath falls without a war. We fail—" He shrugged. "You can keep fighting the slow war and wasting men. Your choice."
The council sat in silence, the flicker of candlelight catching the silver tassels of his earrings, the fur on his collar, the cruel grin of the boy who had already lived through fire.
And in that silence, no one doubted why Ashkar had given him his name.
The Prince of Chaos.
The council chamber was silent, save for the crackle of torches against black marble walls. All eyes lingered on Aiden, still standing with his finger pressed hard against the map, his smirk carved into something sharper than confidence.
King David leaned back in his chair, his black eyes narrowed as though he could pierce straight through his son's chest. For a long moment, the silence threatened to break under the weight of his gaze. Then his voice cut through the chamber, low, iron steady.
"…Very well."
Gasps erupted again, but David's hand rose, silencing them all.
"You wanted your chance, Aiden. You have it. Take your squad. Do what you claim you can. But know this—" His eyes burned like steel under flame. "If you fail, Ashkar will not save you. We cannot. This is yours alone."
Aiden's grin spread wide, a flame ignited in his chest. "I'd expect nothing less."
Queen Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly, her hands tightening in her lap, but she didn't protest. Not here. Not with the council watching. When she opened them again, her gaze met Aiden's, and though fear swam in her green eyes, pride outshone it.
Aiden stepped back, sweeping his black fur-collared coat around him. The silver tassels of his heir's earrings caught the firelight, swaying as he turned for the doors. His stride was sure, confident, playful almost — a boy walking into madness, yet the council watched his back as though they were staring at a man destined to shape history.
Some saw a leader.Some saw a madman.All saw the Prince of Chaos.
The palace halls were wide and cold, light pouring through stained glass windows of past victories. But Aiden's smirk only grew sharper with each step until at last he pushed open the double doors of the outer courtyard.
Two figures were waiting.
Elias was perched on a stone bench, glasses sliding down his nose as he scribbled furiously into a worn leather-bound book. His black hair was tousled, his gray eyes darting up nervously when he noticed Aiden's approach. He carried no sword at his side — only the satchel of spellbooks slung across his shoulder. Always the mage, always muttering incantations under his breath, as though the world might collapse if he didn't prepare for it.
Beside him, sprawled across the fountain's edge, sat Camryn. Her blonde hair was tied back in a messy braid, a few strands falling across her hazel eyes. She wore her leathers loose, sword strapped across her back, her boots kicked up on the stone rim as though she owned the place. A grin tugged at her lips the moment she spotted Aiden.
"You've got that look again," she drawled, tilting her head. "The one that means trouble."
Elias groaned, snapping his book shut with a loud clap. "Oh no. Not again. Not so soon after the last one." He pushed his glasses up, gray eyes narrowing. "Tell me it's not another mission, Aiden."
Aiden's smirk was pure mischief. "It's another mission."
Elias buried his face in his hands.
"Gods above. Do you remember what happened in the Valley of Death? Because I do. I almost died—" He jabbed a finger upward for emphasis. "—seventeen times. Seventeen! I counted!"
Camryn barked a laugh, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.
"And yet here you are. Breathing. Thanks to me. And him." She jabbed her thumb toward Aiden. "I nearly died three times too, but someone had to keep saving your clumsy self."
"Clumsy?! I was holding the barrier that kept you from being shredded alive!"
"And Aiden still had to drag you out when it cracked."
"Because he set the entire valley on fire!" Elias threw his arms wide.
"Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to be trapped in a canyon with two hundred orcs and your so-called leader laughing like a madman as the world burns around you?!"
Aiden only chuckled, resting his hands behind his head, walking past them with a swagger that demanded the world's attention. "And yet, we won."
Camryn's grin widened, wild and gleaming. "That's why I love your missions."
Elias groaned louder, slumping against the fountain. "That's why I hate them."
Aiden finally stopped, turning on his heel, his ember-gold eyes glinting with both playfulness and something darker. His voice lowered, carrying that strange weight that made everyone — even his friends — go quiet.
"This one," he said, a smile curving across his lips, "is bigger than the Valley of Death."
Camryn's grin faltered just slightly. Her hazel eyes narrowed, a flicker of unease breaking her excitement.
Elias froze completely, his breath catching.
"…What did you just say?"
Aiden's grin only widened full of chaos, full of life.
"Lets go win a war."