The Prologue
Long before mortals ever grasped the fleeting taste of power, there was Kampera - an Empire vast enough to cradle five mighty kingdoms within her embrace and still claim dominion over wild lands where human feet had never dared to linger. To the North lay Estrilia, kingdom of light; Azurin, kingdom of wind; and Aquila, kingdom of water. To the south burned Ignito, kingdom of Fire; and slept Obsidian, kingdom of Earth. Yet even the grandeur of these realms could not tame the wild heart of Kampera - a living tapestry of forests, thick as secrets, rivers that sang through ancient stone and fields where herbs, flowers and beasts breathed in the same rhythm as the wind.
Within the boundless wilderness, monsters slithered, slimes pulsed beneath mossy roots, and dragons coiled around mountain peaks lost to human maps. Above them all soared Fireheart - the immortal Phoenix. More than legend, more than beast, Fireheart was the guardian spirit of all monsters and the spark of life itself: an imperishable flame bound to the heartbeat of the land. His wings fanned storms and his voice stirred both fear and awe. For generations uncounted, he whispered secrets to the royal line - the chosen few who ruled each kingdom through the sacred bond with the dragons.
Of these dragons, the Ice dragon reigned supreme, dwelling in Kampera's heart, it's power entwined with the emperor who ruled all six kingdoms as sovereign. And as always, Fireheart watched from the shadows of the forest - Mentor, Judge, Guardian. In those ancient days, peace flowed like wine at a Summer feast, spilling from throne to village, from river to harvest.
Until greed, as it always does, slipped like poison in Noble vein.
Carlos Arcanas, second son of Emperor Andres Arcanas the third, born with ambition hotter than any dragon's flame, spoiled the blood of his own brother, the Crown Prince and bearer of the Ice dragon's gift. Not content with fratricide, he wiped clean the royal household, snatching power with hands slicked red. When Fireheart rose in wrath to strip the traitor King of his stolen crown, Carlos turned the blade of his madness upon the realm itself. He lied. He raged. He taught human kind to hate what had one's guarded them; the beasts, the monsters, the dragons. All enemies now, all prey for men hungry for coin and conquest.
Wounded by betrayal and grief, Fireheart retreated to the deep places of the world. There in roots older than bone and stone, the immortal flame folded its wings and slept.
Years turned like pages on a pyre. Hunters roamed forests whispering songs of a Phoenix's feather yet found only shadows. Tales bloomed like weeds - some painted Fireheart as salvation, others as curse. In time, even the name became a bedtime ghosts told to hush crying children. And still the Arcanas ruled - their bloodline a chain forged by the first betrayal.
Two centuries later, in the palace of Ice and marble, a new emperor bore the name Leonard Carlos V. To strengthen a throne cracking under forgotten sins, he wedded Princess Alora de Manche, the kingdom of light's cherished princess. They birthed hope a new; first a daughter, crowned the Saint,her hands a glow with light; then a son whose veins pulse with the cold strength of the ice dragon,heir apparent to Kampera's troubled crown.
But Fate - cruel, amused, unyielding - gave them a third child.
A second princess born fragile and pale, no spark of power flickering in her blood. No dragon's roar, no saint glow. Only beauty so striking it's cut deeper than any sword, and bones so delicate even a winter wind seemed a threat. In a court that weighed worth in magic and blood, beauty alone was an empty jewel.
So on the dusk of her sixth birthday, sleepless and bound by fear for his powerless daughter's fate, Emperor Leonard summoned his Royal Court beneath the cold gleam of ancestral banners. Whispers tangled like cobwebs in the throne Hall ~ Should she be hidden? All were afraid for this child who was so kind and naive.
Then Aaron, second to The emperor's ear, spoke the first true mercy and hidden evil the girl would ever know.
"If she is denied the Royal gates, then let her surpass them all in skill. Teach her not as a princess but as a weapon hidden in silk. A blade no common man could break nor any throne dare scorn."
Lord Aaron who meant no harm but only wished that their darling Princess be given a better fate, had not only changed her fate, but also given her the first taste of men's evil. For in that very moment, a curse older than her breath coiled tighter around her fragile bones. Yet somewhere far beyond the marble walls, deep in an ancient forest no hunter could claim, a heart beat pulsed once more through the dark - an imperishable flame, roused by a whisper of change.
The age of betrayal was not done. And neither was Fireheart.