After the entire royal family had expressed their joyful consent for the adoption of little Aito, a sweet and comforting calm settled over the castle. The Queen, with the tenderness of an experienced mother and the emotion of a first-time one, took the baby in her arms and carried him off, closely followed by the proud Prince Eliel and the curious Princess Calithia, towards the private quarters of the royal family.
As the sun hid behind the distant mountains, tinting the sky with shades of violet and orange, one by one the stars began to stir and shine brightly. The night, silent and starry, watched over the sleep of the new member of the royalty, a restorative sleep after his first day in his new home.
And the next morning arrived.
The young Princess Calithia, barely three years old, woke with the first rays of the sun, much earlier than usual for a girl her age. An uncontrollable emotion drove her: she had to see her little brother again. Without making a sound, she slipped out of her bed and, with her small bare feet on the cold stone of the castle, ran towards the chambers where Aito slept.
But when she arrived, slightly out of breath from the run, the Queen was already there, sitting by the cradle, gently rocking it while humming an ancient lullaby.
—Good morning, Mother! —said Calithia in a whisper that, despite her effort, came out louder than she intended.
The Queen turned and gave her a radiant smile, despite the early hour.
—Good morning, my daughter. How are you this morning?
—I am well, Mother —Calithia replied, tiptoeing closer to the cradle—. How is Aito? I mean… how is my little brother? —she repeated, correcting herself with a smile that lit up her whole face.
—He is well —said the Queen, brushing a lock of hair from the forehead of the baby, who was sleeping peacefully—. He has slept through the night. He is a very calm child.
As they continued talking in low voices, the door opened again and the young master Eliel entered, his hair still tousled from sleep but with a huge grin from ear to ear.
—Good morning, Mother. Good morning, little sister —Eliel greeted, making a small, formal bow that contrasted with his disheveled appearance.
Both returned his greeting and confirmed they were well. Eliel approached the cradle and, with the delicacy of an older brother who had already learned how to treat little ones, stroked Aito's cheek. The baby, as if he had sensed his presence, slowly opened his golden eyes and, upon recognizing the face leaning over him, sketched a warm, toothless smile.
—What do you think little Aito will be when he grows up? —Eliel suddenly asked, his eyes shining with imagination—. Will he be a warrior, a swordsman famous in all kingdoms? Or maybe… will he be a powerful mage?
The Queen smiled at her son's idea and gently stroked Aito's head, who continued smiling, unaware of the grand expectations already being woven about his future.
—Well, it will depend on what destiny chooses for him, and also on his own desires —the Queen replied wisely—. We can only guide him and love him, no matter what happens.
—If he decides to be a swordsman —Eliel continued, unable to contain his enthusiasm—, Sir Zekin could teach him, since he's the best knight in the kingdom!
—That's true —the Queen agreed, observing Aito's deep golden eyes—. With those eyes… he would have an imposing presence on the battlefield. He would be unforgettable.
—And if he becomes a mage —Eliel said, puffing out his chest a little—, I could teach him the basics. That way he'd start learning from a young age.
Eliel had reason to be proud: at eight years old, he had already awakened his connection to mana years ago and showed promising talent for magic, something that filled his parents with pride.
They were talking like this because in this world, mana, the invisible energy that flows through all things and gives life to magic, manifests in people from very early ages. Some children show signs of power from age three, others later, and there are those who, unfortunately, are born without the slightest ability to feel or control it. Mana was what separated mages from common mortals, legendary heroes from ordinary people.
As the family remained immersed in their conversation about Aito's future, the door opened once more and this time it was the King who entered, imposing but with a warm expression upon seeing his family gathered around the cradle.
Everyone stood up and greeted him with due respect, although Eliel and Calithia couldn't help running to him to give him a hug. The King hugged them tightly and then approached the cradle, where Aito looked at him with his enormous golden eyes, as if he already recognized the father figure in that man.
—What have I heard about little Aito? —the King asked with a smile—. Will he be a great swordsman or a powerful mage?
—Exactly, Father! —Eliel exclaimed.
The King sat down next to the Queen and the conversation continued, full of laughter and shared dreams.
After several minutes of chatting, the Queen suggested a morning walk. She took Aito in her arms, wrapped in a soft blanket, and the small royal procession headed to the palace gardens. The King walked beside her, while Eliel and Calithia ran ahead, pointing at the flowers and birds awakening with the day.
The royal gardens were a spectacle for the senses: extensive emerald green meadows, crossed by white stone paths, and flowerbeds of every imaginable color giving off intoxicating fragrances: roses red as blood, lilies white as snow, purple lavender, and sunflowers that looked like small suns on earth. The morning dew still sparkled on the petals, and the birdsong accompanied the soft murmur of a nearby fountain.
Little Aito's golden eyes shone under the resplendent light of the morning sun, reflecting the new and wonderful world opening before him. The family sat on a marble bench strategically placed to contemplate the flowers, while Eliel and Calithia took the opportunity to play with their little brother, tickling him and provoking his laughter, which sounded like little bells.
After a while, a familiar figure appeared on the stone path. It was Zekin Marville, the royal commander, who walked with a firm step but carried in his arms, with the delicacy of a proud grandfather, a little girl.
—Greetings, Your Majesty. Greetings, my Queen —said Zekin, slightly bowing his head without disturbing the girl.
—Sir Zekin! —Eliel exclaimed joyfully.
—How are you, Sir Zekin? —the Queen asked with a genuine welcoming smile.
—I am well, my Queen —the veteran knight replied.
—And how is little Lilia? —said the Queen, approaching to see the girl better.
—My granddaughter is well, as you can see —Zekin replied, with a pride he couldn't hide—. She enjoys excellent health and is already starting to show character.
Calithia, always observant, tiptoed closer to look at the baby, who was sleeping peacefully in her grandfather's arms.
—Look, Mother —Calithia said with her childish voice—, she looks a lot like Aito. She has the same black hair.
—That's true —the Queen agreed.
—Only the color of her eyes is different —Calithia added—. Lilia's eyes are… what color are they, Sir Zekin?
—They are a deep blue, little princess —Zekin replied with a smile—. Like the sky on a clear night.
The adults smiled at the little princess's perceptiveness. But then, something strange happened. The voices of those present began to sound like a distant murmur, a muffled echo.
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And so, like a river flowing tirelessly towards the sea, the days, weeks, months, and years passed. The seasons followed one after another: the colors of autumn tinted the gardens, winter snow covered the castle towers, spring flowers bloomed again, and the summer sun warmed the training yards.