Even in Ariyan's sleep, echoes of a golden past still wander. The ancient kingdom of Arkania – whose very utterance stirred a sense of reverence and wonder in the chest – its sunlit palaces seemed forever burned into his memory. He was once known as the "Sun Child". As the kingdom's sole heir, a holiday was declared across the realm on his birthday. His grandparents, themselves legendary emperor and empress, would kneel before Ariyan to bless him – a sight that made foreign ambassadors' eyebrows rise in disbelief.
Ariyan's smile alone could breathe new life into the palace walls. When he went out to play in the royal garden, thousands of subjects would rush from all directions just to catch a glimpse of the boy who would one day shoulder this vast empire – from the high fortress walls to the distant village huts, everyone spoke the same words: "Our Sun Child." Silk garments, jasmine garlands glowing in the pale moonlight, the scent of fragrant oils – life was a smooth tapestry.
As a child, Ariyan's favourite place was the library. Arkania's library stood seven storeys tall, each floor housing rare grimoires of magic, maps of lost civilisations, and the history of the Dragon Dynasty. His grandfather, the former Emperor Agnibarma, had taught him his letters with his own hands. "Look, Ariyan," his grandfather once said, "a sword only kills external enemies, but knowledge dispels inner darkness as well. You will be the wisest king in our history."
But time is a cruel weaver. No one knows what colour its thread will take next.
When Ariyan was seven years old, news arrived at the palace – the queen was pregnant. Ariyan danced with joy in the garden, thinking he would now have a playmate. But in the tenth month, twins were born – Inaiya and Imi. Two sisters at once! For the first few months, Ariyan felt a little neglected. Where all eyes had once been on him, now everyone rushed after the two newborns. But he was no child; rather, he learned that being the eldest meant bearing an invisible burden.
At age six, Inaiya was like a storm – exuberant, brave, always wanting to learn swordplay. Imi was her opposite, calm and serious, her pull towards magic almost supernatural. Ariyan stood between them, feeling like a shield. When his sisters were afraid of the dark, Ariyan would lie beside them and tell stories – tales of dragons and knights. When Inaiya cut her finger the first time she held a sword, Ariyan tore his own shirt to make a bandage. When Imi, in her first magical practice, accidentally shattered a palace wall, Ariyan took the blame and the punishment.
The old palace commander, Bhagirath, once told Ariyan, "Prince, you seem much older than your years." Ariyan only smiled. But the sadness hidden in the corners of his eyes went unnoticed by all.
When Ariyan turned fourteen, one evening King Vikramsen summoned him. The king's face lacked its usual gentleness; instead, deep lines of worry were etched upon it. He took Ariyan to the most secret chamber of the palace – where the first shard of the Dragon Crystal was kept.
"Father, what is this?" Ariyan had asked, watching something like a blue flame dance inside the crystal.
The king sighed deeply. "Our ancestors received the blessing of the Dragon God, Ariyan. This crystal is its memento. But recently, a dark power has awakened in the distant provinces. I am going there, on a secret mission. Until then, you will protect your mother and sisters."
"When will you return?"
The king gave no answer. He only placed his hand on Ariyan's head and said, "You are my pride. Remember, a throne is only strong when its foundation is unshakable."
That very night, the king left with ten loyal soldiers. Ariyan saw his father's back for the last time – golden armour, black horse, a silhouette moving towards the setting sun. No one knew that this would be their final farewell.
Nothing happened for the first three months after the king left. Then, slowly, the palace air began to change. Where ministers once bowed their heads upon seeing Ariyan, they now began to avoid him. No one listened to the queen. Food rations decreased. Whispers spread among the palace servants – "Perhaps the king will not return. Shouldn't someone else be given power?"
Ariyan's grandparents were no longer alive. The king's brother, Commander-in-Chief Narayan, slowly began to take control of the entire army. He pretended to love Ariyan, but with his glances, he was weaving a net all around. Half the royal court had already sided with him. The other half remained silent – out of fear, self-interest, or a desire for safety.
One day, the queen called Ariyan and said, "My son, danger is approaching. I have heard that Narayan plans to remove you children and become king himself."
Inaiya had been listening from behind the door. She burst in and said, "I have learned the sword, Mother. I will protect the palace."
Imi sat silently, tears in her eyes. She had dreamed – fire all around the palace, black birds, and nowhere could she find Ariyan. She told no one about that dream, only held Ariyan's hand tightly.
Ariyan understood – this was no longer the time to turn book pages. He had been first in every subject at the academy: sword, magic, history, diplomacy. But this reality was in none of his textbooks. Here, cunning and knife-play – both were equally important.
One night, it happened. Narayan barged directly into the queen's chambers, accompanied by twenty armed soldiers. He said, "In my brother's absence, the security of the kingdom is in my hands. You are no longer safe here. Especially Ariyan – the Dragon Crystal's influence is growing in him. It will bring us danger."
Ariyan understood at once – Narayan wanted not only the throne but also the Dragon Crystal. That crystal was bound to Ariyan's chest, under his shirt, unknown to anyone. His grandfather had given it to him before dying – "Never let this be lost, Ariyan. It is part of your blood."
That night, Ariyan made a decision. He gathered his mother and sisters in a corner and said, "I am leaving. Until I return and set things right, you stay here. Narayan will not kill you – public opinion would turn against him. But he wants me dead."
The queen began to weep. Inaiya grabbed Ariyan's hand and said, "I will come too. I want to be a warrior." Imi said nothing, only hugged his neck tightly.
Ariyan kissed his sisters on the forehead. He bowed at his mother's feet. Then, silently in the darkness, he slipped away through the palace's secret tunnel. With him, only his father's rusted old sword, a silver locket from his mother and sisters, and the Dragon Crystal bound to his chest.
Walking for seven days and seven nights, crossing rivers, following trade routes, Ariyan reached a place – named the "Eternal City". Even on ancient maps of Arkania, its name was forbidden. Here, there is no king, no minister, no law. Only iron chimneys, coal smoke, and people running like mad just to survive.
The city's entrance was a massive iron gate – nearly fifty cubits high. Carved upon the gate was a fearsome dragon idol, whose eyes seemed to spew fire. As soon as Ariyan passed through the gate, he realised – there were no smooth palace paths here. Here, there was only mud, stone, and crowds. Every person seemed to be guarding the border of their own world, trusting no one.
Standing in the crowd, Ariyan felt like a grain of sand. The prince who had once been the apple of a thousand eyes was now just a nameless wanderer. No gold coins in his pocket, no silken magical robes. Only a rusted sword and the weight of memories.
On the first day, his purse was stolen – though it had been empty. On the second day, he found work at an inn, washing dishes and cleaning floors. In return, he got a bowl of hot soup and a place to sleep on the floor. The innkeeper, Rudra – a stout woman in her fifties with sharp intelligence in her eyes – looked at Ariyan's hands on the first day and said, "Your hands look like those of a well-educated prince. Why have you come here?"
Ariyan smiled and said, "If there ever was such a thing as a prince, I would not have come here."
Rudra said nothing more, only gazed at him deeply.
As Ariyan stayed on in the Eternal City, he slowly learned a new way of life. Here, no one asks who your father was or what your grandfather did. Here, they ask – what's in your pocket, how strong are your hands, and how much can you speak without getting a knife in your back?
After a couple of weeks, one night three drunken soldiers stormed into the inn. They wanted to drink without paying and began to insult Rudra. Ariyan was washing dishes. At first, he kept quiet. Then, when one of the soldiers grabbed Rudra's cheek, something inside Ariyan trembled. The Dragon Crystal grew hot against his chest.
He walked forward slowly. The soldiers' leader laughed and said, "What's this, boy? Trying to play the hero?"
Ariyan said nothing. Within a second, his hand clamped onto the soldier leader's wrist. The next moment, the inn shook with a scream – the soldier's wrist hung twisted and broken. As the other two drew their swords, Ariyan hurled two knives from a nearby table – one disarmed a soldier, the other pierced the shoulder of the second, not deep, just a warning.
The soldiers fled. Rudra was silent for a while, then said, "You're no ordinary boy. There's something inside you."
Ariyan did not reply. He only spent the night awake, remembering his sisters' faces. Inaiya was probably now practising swordplay against the palace walls. Imi was probably dreaming – dreams as dark as Ariyan's own.
That night was a new moon. There were no lamps in the alleyways of the Eternal City, only the flickering weak light from high building windows. Ariyan was returning from the inn through a narrow, dark lane – when suddenly, his chest trembled. The Dragon Crystal was shaking, as if the stone were about to split from the heat of fire. Despite the freezing temperature, his body began to sweat.
From the mouth of the alley, a dozen armoured mercenary soldiers emerged one by one. They wore black leather armour, hoods like serpents' heads, and carried sharp axes and swords. Their eyes were like vultures that had spotted prey. The leader stepped forward – his voice was as coarse as sandpaper on metal.
"Well, well, look here! The runaway prince!" The leader spat. "Did you think you could hide in this garbage heap of a city? Lord Narayan has offered a reward – a bag of gold for your head. And that crystal on your chest is worth even more. Tonight, the last drop of the royal bloodline will be extinguished."
Ariyan stood still. He kept his head down. In the darkness, his shadow stretched long against the wall. One of the soldiers laughed, "The boy's frozen in fear!"
But the next moment, a low, hollow laugh escaped Ariyan's lips. Slowly, he raised his head. And the soldiers stepped back – Ariyan's pupils were no longer human. They burned with a terrifying, otherworldly blue flame. That flame burned exactly like the fire inside the Dragon Crystal.
"I am Ariyan," he whispered, an unnatural power vibrating in his voice. "The boy you came to kill died the moment he left the palace. The man standing before you now is the architect of his own fate."
The leader screamed, "Attack!"
The first soldier charged with an axe. The blue fire in Ariyan's eyes played. The world seemed to slow down. Just before the axe could descend, a massive blue flame exploded from Ariyan's body like a blast. The stones beneath his feet shattered into dust, the air around them froze into ice.
Ariyan grabbed the first soldier by the throat. With a single touch – no effort, no strain – the soldier's entire body turned into a solid block of ice. His eyes remained trapped forever within the frozen ice, still bearing the terror of death. The remaining soldiers retreated, grinding their teeth, but Ariyan did not stop. A torrent of blue fire swirled around him, creating more ice with every touch.
Just then, the sky suddenly went dark. The moonless night grew even deeper – as if some giant bird had swallowed the sun. Ariyan looked up. In the sky above the Eternal City, an enormous shadow was gliding – so vast that a single one of its wings could cover an entire city. Its two eyes burned like red fire. A dragon! An ancient dragon!
The people of the city screamed – "A dragon! The dragon has returned!" Some ran, some shut their windows, some fell to their knees in prayer. But Ariyan did not flee. He stared at the dragon, unblinking. The crystal on his chest now blazed like a furnace. The dragon roared again – a roar that shook the very foundations of the city. Glass windows shattered, horses bolted, children wept.
A strange message entered Ariyan's mind – not words, but a feeling. As if the dragon were saying, "Are you the heir? Do you possess the Dragon Crystal?" Ariyan gave no answer, but the blue fire in his body burned even more fiercely. The dragon fixed its gaze on Ariyan.
Behind him, the sound of thousands of soldiers' footsteps approached from afar. Narayan had probably sent all those soldiers to capture Ariyan – either to kill him or take him prisoner. But Ariyan did not look back. He unsheathed his father's old rusted sword. As soon as he took it in his hand, it blazed with blue fire. The rust fell away, and the sword began to transform – into a legendary weapon, named "Himghatak" (The Frost Reaper), a sword that only the wielder of the Dragon Crystal could command.
Ariyan clenched his teeth and said, "I do not know whether you are enemy or ally, Dragon. But I will not retreat for anyone anymore. I am Ariyan, the fallen prince of Arkania. And I will return – to my mother and sisters. Until that day, let as many dragons come, let as many soldiers come – I will not stop."
The dragon roared again, but this time its roar held not rage, but a kind of recognition. It began to descend from the sky. Ariyan raised his blue-fire-blazing sword high. A strange mixture of fire and ice formed in the air.
That night, the Eternal City bore witness to two supernatural beings – a fallen prince, and an ancient dragon. Neither of their intentions was clear. But one thing was certain – a war had begun. A war for Ariyan's soul, for the throne of Arkania, and for that blue fire which would either destroy him or make him a god.
Behind him, the soldiers arrived. Ahead, the dragon fixed its gaze. A faint, painful smile appeared at the corner of Ariyan's lips.
"Father," he whispered, "you said a throne is only strong when its foundation is unshakable. Today, I am learning to become that foundation – burned by fire, frozen by ice, but never broken."
The blue flame grew brighter. Ariyan took his first step – towards the dragon, towards the soldiers, or towards his own fate. Who knows?
Only this much is certain – the chapter is not over. Rather, this is only the beginning.