LOCATION: FIRST ONES' KINGDOM
VON SALVADOR CITY—100 YEARS IN THE PAST.
The High Prosecutor's booming laughter rolled through the pristine halls beneath the manor like the tolling of some great cathedral bell. It was thunderous enough to rattle the polished silverware resting atop the banquet tables.
Ordinarily, the man carried himself with the rigid refinement expected of the kingdom's highest authority beneath the Crown. He was revered as a figure untouched by foolishness—a scholar wrapped in iron discipline, whose mere stare could silence entire courtrooms without the need for a single spoken word.
The last thing anybody expected from a man so notoriously severe were these clumsy wheezes of joy erupting from his lungs like fireworks.
Yet who could truly fault him for it?
It had been years since he had allowed himself the luxury of rest. Years since he had sat among companions without some looming matter of execution, politics, or divine law hanging over his shoulders.
Tonight was different.
Tonight, the burdens of office seemed lighter.
And the reason was simple.
His daughter had finally turned nineteen.
Hera Xyles.
Pride swelled within him every time he looked upon her name, every time the realization settled once more into his chest. The tiny child he once carried through the palace gardens had grown into such an talented and formidable young woman.
He remembered her stumbling footsteps through marble corridors.
The tantrums.
The tears.
The stubbornness.
Now she stood poised to become one of the most influential women in the entire First Ones' Kingdom.
It was that growth—that beautiful, inevitable transformation—which softened the stern face so feared throughout the empire. The same expression that terrified criminals and kings alike now carried something far rarer.
Sincerity.
By sacred custom, a feast was to be held within one of the richest and most prestigious taverns across the capital whenever a noble child reached adulthood.
Such celebrations were considered blessings beneath the gaze of the Balance itself.
But this was no ordinary noble child.
This was Hera Xyles.
Daughter of the High Prosecutor. Future successor to his throne of judgment. A woman many already believed destined to eclipse even her father's terrifying reputation someday.
As such, extravagance was mandatory.
The tavern chosen for the occasion resembled less a public establishment and more a palace sculpted from white marble and gold.
Velvet banners draped from the ceilings in layered waves, while crystalline chandeliers glittered overhead like frozen stars captured from the heavens themselves.
Music flowed endlessly throughout the establishment—soft violins, silver flutes, and delicate harps weaving together into a melody sweet enough to intoxicate even the sober-minded.
Servants carrying jeweled trays wandered between tables of nobles adorned in silk, fur, and ceremonial armor. Laughter spilled from every corner of the grand hall.
Yet beneath all the glamour and celebration lingered another purpose entirely.
Courtship. An ancient tradition among the upper class.
Once a noblewoman came of age, potential suitors would be offered the opportunity to accompany her throughout the evening in hopes of earning her favor—whether through charm, intellect, wealth, or reputation.
Naturally, the High Prosecutor had prepared extensively.
Twelve suitors had been hand-selected for Hera personally.
Throughout the day, each of them would attempt the same impossible task:
Captivate Hera Xyles.
Lustrous golden goblets crashed together in roaring celebration, spilling rivers of crimson wine across the milk-white tables without a soul caring enough to stop it.
Scarlet drink seeped greedily into the tiny fractures lining the polished stone.
They bled through the cracks like fresh wounds spreading across flesh.
The entire tavern had become impaired—not merely with alcohol, but with pride, nostalgia, and the deafening warmth of festivity.
The High Prosecutor slammed an enormous silver bottle against the soaked tabletop with enough force to shake the dishes around it. Bloody liquor splashed from its open neck in violent bursts.
The mighty statesman threw his head back and laughed from the depths of his chest, the sound booming through the tavern halls like some jubilant war drum.
His short blond spikes lashed wildly beneath the torchlight as giant grins spread among the gathered soldiers. Men raised their goblets. Women cheered between laughter. Even the servants found themselves smiling as the atmosphere grew louder and louder by the second.
The High Prosecutor: "A toast! I propose a toast—to my precious daughter! The future greatest prosecutor this realm shall ever witness… Hera Xyles!"
First Ones' Knights: "CHEERS!"
The eruption of voices rattled the tavern's foundation.
⸻
Hera herself was nowhere to be found.
Rather than remain amongst the roaring celebration prepared entirely for her honor, Hera had quietly excused herself hours earlier. She insisted her stomach could no longer survive another serving of the tavern's heavily-seasoned ribs.
No one questioned it at first.
But now, the excuse had begun to rot.
The High Prosecutor leaned back deeper into his chair, thick fingers tapping idly against the armrest.
His ocean-blue eyes drifted once more toward the kitchen doors Hera had disappeared behind long ago.
His smile weakened slightly.
The High Prosecutor: "What in the world could she still be doing in there…?"
Several of his companions perked up at the comment, their drunken amusement sharpening at the mention of Hera's suspiciously lengthy absence.
One of the generals let a crooked smirk crawl across his face before chuckling under his breath.
First Ones' General: "Who knows? Maybe one of those suitors finally got lucky. Luken seemed desperate enough."
Several men burst into laughter.
The High Prosecutor, however, answered the remark with a flat, unimpressed stare capable of silencing the lesser soldiers on the spot.
The High Prosecutor: "Don't be ridiculous. Hera is a respectable young woman. She would never carry herself in such a shameless manner."
Another voice entered the conversation before the teasing could continue.
Director Jarl.
Jarl sat with one leg crossed neatly over the other, his bright blue cape draped elegantly behind his chair.
Jarl: "I highly doubt she's entertaining any of the suitors. I passed by them earlier—they were all outside discussing which one of them had the best chance of winning her affection."
Jarl swirled the wine inside his goblet before speaking again.
Jarl: "Truthfully… I think Lady Hera may simply be overwhelmed."
The High Prosecutor's brow furrowed at once, surprise flashing visibly across his hardened face.
The High Prosecutor: "Overwhelmed…? Hera?"
The mere idea sounded impossible to him.
———
Tiny droplets of water crawled down the warped wooden walls of the abandoned kitchen before finally plunging onto the floorboards below.
They hit the ground with damp little pops loud enough to gnaw at the nerves.
The room smelled faintly of soaked timber and leftover spices from meals long since devoured outside the chamber.
Hera sat against the wall beside the heavy cellar door, her arms loosely wrapped around her knees while her chin rested silently atop her forearm.
Scarlet eyes shimmered through the darkness like twin cherries dipped in candlelight, distant and thoroughly unimpressed with the world around her.
Her expression carried that same familiar blend of contempt and frigid indifference she so often reserved for other people.
Truthfully, she was beginning to suspect this may have been the worst day of her life thus far.
It genuinely felt as though everyone had prepared a celebration for the wrong woman entirely.
The drunken laughter. The endless feasting. The greasy ribs drowning in sauce. The obnoxious parade stretching across seven inner districts. And to conclude it all, a grand ceremonial dance expected to continue until dawn itself rose above the empire.
She despised every bit of it.
The entire affair felt exhausting and painfully uncivilized.
None of it possessed any meaning or substance.
Why in the world would she derive joy from stumbling through crowded streets beside drunken officials behaving like oversized children for hours on end?
Hera: "Idiots…"
Was her father truly this oblivious to her actual interests?
Perhaps he had simply become too consumed by sentimentality—too dazzled by the idea of his precious little daughter finally becoming a grown woman to notice how miserable she was.
Typical.
Croaaak.
A family of moist wart frogs bounced lazily across the kitchen floor near the far corner of the room. Their swollen throats puffed rhythmically as they croaked amongst themselves without a care in the world.
More noise.
Hera: "Ugh…"
With visible irritation, Hera buried her face deeper into her knees while dark-brown curls spilled over her legs in messy waves.
Though if she were being honest with herself…
The festivities were not what truly bothered her.
It was the suitors.
Those dreadful, carefully-selected young men chosen to "court" her throughout the evening.
Only three among the twelve had managed to leave even the faintest impression at all. The rest blurred together into one massive disappointment.
Each of them fit neatly into four utterly insufferable categories.
Boring.
Brainless.
Arrogant.
Or straight up pathetic.
Speaking to half of them felt like dragging her face across stone.
Only three had proven themselves different—and unfortunately, that did not necessarily make them better.
Leif Oscars by his father's bloodline. Björn Kaiser by his mother's.
Without question, he was the strangest among them all.
Hera could scarcely approach the man without spotting him nervously tinkering with some hidden object. Every attempt at conversation ended the exact same way: Kaiser turning into a sweating disaster before blurting out some terrible excuse and fleeing the interaction altogether.
It was unbelievably frustrating.
Then again…
Even if she somehow discovered common ground with him—even if she actually considered him worthy of courtship—it would never matter in the end.
Kaiser belonged to the Sky Zealots.
The most devout followers of the Balance. Men and women who dedicated centuries of their lives toward becoming what they called "True Believers."
For over two hundred years, a Sky Zealot was expected to devote themselves wholly to the Celestial Butterfly and its teachings before ever being granted the sacred title they pursued.
Only then could one potentially ascend into becoming a Champion of the Balance.
Until that divine accomplishment had been fulfilled, a Sky Zealot was forbidden from marriage entirely.
Thor Sword.
The son of the legendary Christopher Sword himself.
A celebrated young hero. Beloved by knights and admired by soldiers. He was praised endlessly by every old fool in the kingdom who valued loudness over dignity.
Hera could not tolerate him for longer than five minutes.
Every sentence exploded from his lungs like a battlefield speech delivered to thousands. Honor this. Glory that. Respect your comrades. Protect the weak. Raise your blade proudly.
It never ended.
Hera was fairly certain her ears still rang from the dinner conversation alone. Just remembering his voice made her temples ache.
Lastly, there was Luken Ulf.
Luken was almost perfect.
Strong. Humble. Intelligent. Funny. Calm beneath pressure. Polite enough to charm an entire hall with minimal effort.
A man every parent would dream of offering their daughter to.
Of course… that polished image only existed whenever other men were around. When alone with women, the abysmal creature beneath the mask crawled out almost immediately.
Hera grimaced deeply, remembering the revolting things he had whispered to her earlier that evening beneath the music and laughter.
The shamelessness of it still made her skin crawl. She had seen that disgusting hunger lurking behind his eyes.
Felt it. He did not wish to know her. He wished to possess her.
Hera pressed the back of her head harder against the wooden wall behind her, exhaling slowly through clenched teeth.
Yes.
Without question…
This was officially the worst day of her life thus far.
The only pleasant part of the entire ordeal had been the sight of her father smiling so proudly amongst his comrades.
Slowly, Hera lifted her head again, crimson eyes darkened by frustration, exhaustion… and something much emptier beneath it all.
Hera: "Damn you, Windfield… you liar."
Jerry Windfield.
An idiotic, troublesome young delinquent who somehow managed to become Hera's only genuine friend despite being the single most infuriating person she had ever encountered.
He had promised her he would remain by her side throughout the celebration. Promised he would help her survive the endless disappointment and unbearable conversations.
He was going to.
But that was before Korosa's accident ruined everything.
Korosa.
The mere name made Hera's expression twist.
Her fingers tightened around her legs while she curled inward against the wall once more.
She hated hearing that name.
Hated it.
⸻
Nearly twenty minutes passed by in silence.
From outside the kitchen walls came the muffled sounds of servants dragging heavy furniture across the tavern floors.
Men shouted instructions back and forth while musicians began tuning their instruments in preparation for the grand dance at dawn.
The celebration was entering its next stage, meaning her father would inevitably come searching for her again.
Realistically, she should have left the kitchen already and spared him the trouble.
But she didn't move.
Didn't want to.
She was tired.
Tired of the noise. Tired of smiling. Tired of pretending every second of this ridiculous ceremony didn't irritate her to death.
Right now, being alone was the only comforting thing left in the tavern.
The only thing—
Kaiser: "H-Hera…? Are you in here?"
Hera's eyes widened slightly.
Her head turned sharply toward the doorway just as it creaked open.
Soft white curls spilled gently over the newcomer's forehead beneath the dim kitchen lanternlight.
Dark-red robes swayed lightly around his figure while a pair of bright golden eyes shimmered through the shadows.
Hera blinked once.
Hera: "K-Kaiser…?"
She straightened slightly before quickly regaining her usual composure.
Hera: "Tch. Did my father send you to retrieve me? There's no need for all this. I was already planning on leaving."
Kaiser shook his head so quickly it almost looked panicked.
Kaiser: "O-Oh. No. No, not at all. He doesn't even know I'm here."
That caught her attention.
Hera raised a brow slowly while Kaiser awkwardly stepped inside, careful to leave a noticeable amount of distance between them—as though approaching too closely might somehow provoke disaster.
Click.
The door quietly shut behind him.
Hera: "Oh? So what is it then? Have you finally decided whether or not I'm worthy of your attention?"
Kaiser lowered his head at once, guilt washing over his features so openly it was almost painful to witness. Hera scoffed beneath her breath and pulled herself tighter against the wall, curling inward once more.
She refused to look at him now, stubbornly fixing her gaze toward the dim puddles collecting underneath the kitchen tables.
Hera: "If you intend to stand there drowning in shame, then kindly do it somewhere else. I'd prefer to be alone ri—"
Kaiser: "Wait! P-Please."
The desperation in his voice sliced clean through her irritation.
Hera paused.
A flicker of surprise crossed her pale face before she buried it beneath her usual veil of cold skepticism.
Kaiser noticed it anyway.
Of course he did. His golden eyes missed very little when they were focused on her.
The young zealot inhaled deeply, gathering every scattered thought bouncing around his skull before cautiously stepping closer.
His movements were careful—almost timid—as he studied Hera's expression for even the slightest sign of discomfort.
There was none.
Kaiser: "I'm sorry, Hera. Truly."
His voice softened.
Kaiser: "I didn't want to blend into the crowd with the other suitors. They all came here dressed in expensive silks and carrying rehearsed compliments, so I thought…"
He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck
Kaiser: "I thought perhaps I should give you something instead. Something meaningful."
Hera's eyes shifted slightly toward him.
Kaiser: "So I started preparing a gift. But it ended up taking much longer than I expected. I should've begun earlier, honestly… though I kept doubting myself halfway through…
I just wasn't sure if you'd hate it."
Kaiser lowered himself onto the floor across from her, sitting against the opposite wall while keeping a respectful amount of distance between them both.
Kaiser: "And while I was still working on it, I thought perhaps it'd be smarter not to bother you until I was finished. But that only made things worse, didn't it?"
He exhaled heavily through his nose.
Kaiser: "I didn't want to make a terrible first impression… yet somehow I managed to do exactly that anyway."
Kaiser glanced down at his wet hands.
Kaiser: "I was being an idiot. I should've just spoken to you normally instead of skulking around like some frightened animal.
But the gift is finished now."
He finally looked back up at her—and immediately froze after realizing Hera had been staring at him the entire time.
Kaiser almost forgot how to breathe.
Kaiser: "I-I'd love for you to see it, though you absolutely don't have to if you'd rather not. I understand I wasted your time and probably made you uncomforta—"
Hera: "Let me see it."
The sentence struck him like lightning.
Kaiser's eyes widened so much they nearly popped out. Pure delight rushed across his face with such force it almost looked childish.
He scrambled upright immediately, trying—and failing—to contain the excitement suddenly bubbling out of him.
Kaiser: "R-Right! Of course. I won't be long. Promise."
He wasn't.
Barely a minute later, the kitchen door creaked back open. Kaiser hurried inside carrying a large cylindrical glass jar clasped carefully in both hands.
Inside was a tiny world.
Dark moist soil rested at the bottom beneath layers of vibrant moss and twisting roots. Thin little branches stretched upward like miniature trees, intertwining while droplets of condensation clung to the inner glass walls like morning dew.
Hera blinked.
Then blinked again.
She finally abandoned the defensive little ball she'd trapped herself in. Her legs unfolded under her as she shifted into a cross-legged position, hands settling within her lap.
Her curiosity was becoming increasingly impossible to hide.
Kaiser sat beside her, leaving enough room so she wouldn't feel crowded.
Hera leaned toward the jar despite herself, crimson eyes reflecting the tiny glistening ecosystem trapped within the glass.
Hera: "What exactly is it?"
Kaiser: "Look closer."
He lifted the glass jar and inched it nearer to her face, handling it with such delicate precision one would've thought the thing contained stardust itself.
Hera narrowed her eyes suspiciously, fully expecting whatever he was so excited about to be microscopic.
Then she saw it.
Her breath caught almost instantly.
Nestled among the flourishing moss and emerald blades of grass rested a beautiful little creature nearly the size of her finger.
Its sleek body blended seamlessly into the greenery surrounding it, as though nature itself had sculpted the insect from the leaves and hidden it there among the branches.
Hera's lips parted slightly in awe.
Hera: "…An insect?"
Kaiser nodded so vigorously it nearly made her laugh.
Kaiser: "Yes! But not just any insect. That there is an Escorsen Mantis—one of the rarest species in the entire realm."
His voice had completely changed now. The nervousness was gone. In its place bloomed pure fascination.
Kaiser: "They're famous for their pristine emerald exoskeletons and extraordinarily durable under-armor. Most people never get the chance to see one this young."
As though understanding it was being admired, the mantis slowly raised both its hind wings and forewings in one elegant motion.
Thin silver plates unfurled below them.
Freshly hatched armor.
The metallic shields glimmered softly with the unspoiled luster of forged iron while tiny pulses of reflected light danced across their surface.
The creature was breathtaking.
Hera found herself completely absorbed by it.
Her crimson eyes traced every graceful movement the mantis made—the nimble flexing of its limbs, the subtle twitch of its antennae, the way it prowled across the moss with such strange dignity.
Hera: "It's… marvelous."
Kaiser smiled warmly.
Kaiser: "It truly is."
His gaze drifted back toward the insect.
Kaiser: "The Balance favors creatures like these greatly. So do I.
Honestly… if beings like them didn't exist, I think the world would feel far emptier than people realize.
I thank the Balance every day for allowing things this beautiful to exist at all."
Hera slowly turned her head toward him.
For the first time since meeting him, she truly saw it.
Not the nervous suitor.
Not the awkward zealot.
Not the strange man constantly running away from conversations.
No.
She saw him.
The wonder living inside his mind. The gentleness buried beneath all that anxious fumbling. The genuine admiration radiating from him as he stared at that small critter like it was the most precious thing in existence.
Kaiser loved this world deeply.
Hiccup.
Hera's eyes widened slightly.
She immediately slapped a hand over her mouth, burying the humiliating sound before it could escape again. Kaiser blinked in surprise and finally tore his attention away from the jar to glance toward her.
Kaiser: "So… you like it?"
Hera lowered her hand slowly, trying desperately to regain her composure.
Hera: "Yes. I like it very much. Thank you, Kaiser."
A huge smile burst across Kaiser's face so suddenly and so brightly it practically illuminated the dark kitchen. Happiness and joy moved through him without restraint, spreading like a never ending wildfire.
Hera immediately frowned and turned her face away with the air of a grouchy old woman.
Hera: "You smile like a fool."
Kaiser rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
Kaiser: "Heh… sorry."
An awkward silence floated between them afterward
They both stole little glances at one another every few seconds, catching each other's gaze every time.
Kaiser quickly looked away and began whistling under his breath, cobbling together some uneven melody to soothe his embarrassment.
After a moment, he cautiously peeked back toward her again.
Kaiser: "Well… since we've spent all this time talking about me… I think it's only fair we spend the rest of our time talking about you instead.
Like… um… your interests. Your favorite things. Things you hate. Anything, really."
Hera's heart skipped violently against her ribs.
Hera: "W-What?"
Kaiser blinked innocently at her confusion.
Kaiser: "Your interests."
The words sounded so simple, yet they struck Hera harder than anything else spoken to her that entire evening.
Throughout the whole miserable celebration, not a single soul had bothered asking what she enjoyed.
Not her father. Not the suitors. Not the drunken nobles stuffing themselves with wine and roasted meat while celebrating a version of Hera that didn't exist.
The High Prosecutor had planned the entire day himself.
The parade.
The feast.
The dance.
Everything.
Every single moment had already been decided for her long before she ever arrived.
She had simply been expected to smile and exist within it.
But now…
This strange, awkward boy sitting beside her was looking at her with genuine curiosity in his eyes.
Nothing but curiosity.
He truly wanted to know what she loved.
Hiccup.
Hera stiffened.
Hiccup.
Her crimson irises expanded.
Hiccup.
Heat flooded into her face at terrifying speed.
Hiccup!
Rose-pink spread wildly across her cheeks.
Hera Xyles—cold, composed, untouchable Hera Xyles—was flustered beyond belief.
Kaiser: "H-Hera?!"
Kasier nearly dropped the glass jar trying to wave his hand around frantically.
Kaiser: "I-I'm sorry! Was that too personal?! We can talk about something else entirely if you'd rather! You don't have to answer me!"
Hera immediately turned away from him, mortified.
Hera: "Tch… I'm fine."
Another hiccup nearly escaped her, but she immediately buried it with pure force of will.
Hera: "It's merely the heat. T-That's all."
Silence settled between them once more, though this time it no longer felt unpleasant. The quiet carried fragile warmth now.
Her sighed before speaking again.
Hera: "Interests…"
She stared absently toward the dim lantern-light reflecting across the floorboards.
Hera: "I do have a favorite dish."
Kaiser perked up immediately. The man leaned toward her with the intensity of an overly curious bird.
Kaiser: "Oh? Really? I'm guessing it's not those horrifying ribs out there, then?"
A laugh escaped Hera before she could stop it.
She gently shook her head, fingers combing through her dark curls.
Hera: "Definitely not.
Fish is good. Sea bass especially. Though… I suppose I enjoy salmon as well."
Kaiser's golden eyes practically ignited.
Kaiser: "Seriously?!"
He sat upright so fast he nearly smacked his head against one of the shelves.
Kaiser: "My father caught several swordfish near the docks this morning! I could grab one and cook it for you right here!"
Hera stuttered.
Hera: "W-Wait—"
Kaiser: "Don't worry! I'll be back before the dance starts. Promise."
He rolled his shoulders excitedly before springing to his feet with enough energy to rival a thunder strike.
Kaiser: "You're gonna love it."
The kitchen door burst open.
Then slammed shut again.
Just like that. He vanished within seconds.
Hera stared blankly at the empty doorway for a long moment.
Then she exhaled silently to herself and rose from the floor, dusting loose debris and little lint clumps from her clothing.
A small, tender smile curled upon her pale lips.
Hera: "…Kaiser."