Two individuals appeared in a large and luxurious courtyard: a father and his son. Large flowerbeds lined evenly with the corners of the courtyard; the flowerbeds contained a variety of colors that enhanced the courtyard's alluring appearance. Large stone arches surrounded the courtyard. Exquisite carvings of mythical creatures such as the Phoenix, and the Fire Dragons were displayed on the stone wall. These were beings who mastered the power of fire. With the mastery of fire, they roamed the vast world unhindered and free; no living being could rival their power. However, these were only legends, and no man had ever seen these creatures before.
A massive tree grew in the middle of the courtyard. It possessed silver hair that glimmered brightly like precious jewelry. The leaves gently swayed with the passing wind. Near the silver tree, the young boy practiced his fire magic in front of his father. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he struggled to create a small flame on the palm of his hand. Each unsuccessful attempt frustrated the boy even more. He couldn't figure out what he was doing wrong.
"Why can't I do it!" The boy exclaimed. He dropped to the floor in exhaustion.
The young father shook his head as he observed his son's failed attempts. The man had vivid orange eyes and hair as black as charcoal. His hair was unkempt, and his beard unshaved. The man's appearance was more of a beggar than anything else. Unlike other nobles, he wore modest clothing that a commoner would dress in. However, his clothes couldn't hide his sculpted muscles from years of training.
"Calm your mind, Creed," The young father squatted beside him with his hand on Creed's shoulder. "Frustration won't be of help."
"But it's been like five months already!" Creed slammed his fist on the ground.
The father stood up and lectured, "Learning to manipulate fire takes patience. It takes constant practice and dedication to become a powerful Aethic Warrior!"
The father's teeth shimmered as he flexed his muscles. Creed stared at his father with an annoyed expression. He had heard him say this constantly during practice. The father extended his hand out to him with a beaming smile. Creed stared at him before grabbing his father hands.
Creed pouted, "I want to be strong right now, though..."
The father pulled him up and laughed, "I know you will be, Creed!"
"Look on the bright side! When I was your age, it took me a whopping two years before I manage to create my first flame!" His father encouraged him.
Creed giggled, "Yeah, I bet you were dumb."
Creed's father smacked him across the head, "Don't talk about me like that, brat!"
Creed laughed as he rubbed his head in pain, "Okay, okay! I'm sorry, dad!"
The father gently grabbed Creed's palm, "Open your palm again. I want you to try to feel the Aether Flow within your body. Remember, deep breaths!"
Creed followed his father's instructions and tried to imagine the Aether Flow in his body. He made sure to regulate his breathing that his father taught him. Creed remembered that all lifeforms had Aether within them; some have little to no Aether, while others may have an enormous amount within their bodies. However, with diligent training and combat experience, one can increase the capacity of Aether within their bodies.
Aether controlled the elements and how nature works around him. Depending on the person's genetics, one can possess a strong affinity to a specific element. In extremely rare cases, a person can have two elemental affinities from both parents. Those who were fortunate enough received enormous support from the empire and entered a prestigious school.
Creed concentrated his mind to synchronize with his Aether Flow. Some time passed, and he still couldn't sense anything within him. He felt agitated again.
Creed complained, "I'm not feeling anything!"
His father encouraged him again, "You can do this. Think about your favorite fighter, Fire King, from yesterday's arena match! Imagine how he controlled his flames."
Creed deeply thought about it. He imagined himself as the Fire King who destroyed his opponents with the power of his flames. Suddenly, he felt a burning sensation welling up within his chest. However, he did not feel any pain but a warm and gentle feeling.
"Dad, I feel something warm in my chest!" Creed yelled in excitement.
"Good!" His father couldn't hold his smile. "Now control that flow to the palm of your hand."
Creed nodded his head and controlled that warm sensation towards his palm. Suddenly, a tiny orange flame appeared above his palm. His eyes grew wide with excitement as he stared at this little ball of flame. However, it barely lasted for a second before it disappeared.
Creed jumped up and down, "Dad, did you see that! I did it!"
His father hugged him, "Yeah, I'm proud of you."
A young boy with similar features to Creed walked out to the courtyard. His back bent forward as he walked and had a demeanor of a shy boy. His chestnut hair nearly covered his eyes and wore clothing suitable for a noble child.
"Mom wants you both for dinner," The boy spoke in a faint tone.
The father nodded his head, "We'll be right there, Viktor."
"I'll tell mom you're coming then," Viktor said before running off.
Creed's father turned his head to him, "That's enough practice for today. Let's get going before we make your mom angry."
"Ok!" Creed smiled brightly.
***
On the imperial throne sits the emperor of Rythall. The shadows of the dark hall shrouded the emperor's face, and an air of mystery radiated from this man. The emperor wore luxurious black clothing made from the finest of materials. Golden armor with intricate engravings covered the limbs of his body. Two guards in golden armor stood by his side with spears in hand and intimidating auras.
The throne room was eerily empty besides the four people inside. The floor was made from expensive marble. A lengthy, crimson carpet stretched across the floor to a massive, steel door at the end of the room. Twelve towering pillars held the ceiling above, and each pillar had its own torch that dimly lit the surrounding area. Both sides of the walls of the throne room had two statues each. They represented the great emperors from the past eras.
The emperor was currently fiddling with his fingers as he stared at the Prophet before him.
"This is certainly interesting," The emperor's voice exuded authority as he spoke. "Now, why is the great Prophet visiting me?"
The elderly woman kneeled before the emperor on the red carpet. Her face was full of worry as she pulled a glass jar from her pocket; inside it were black dust that barely filled the glass jar.
"Thank you for allowing us to speak in private, your Majesty," the Prophet spoke.
The emperor simply nodded and waited for the Prophet to continue speaking. For some strange reason, he felt a sudden foreboding when he heard the news of the Prophet paying a visit without warning.
"A great calamity is approaching," Her voice shakes as she revealed the news. "The Eye of Orias has crumbled into dust."
The emperor crossed his legs, "What does the Eye of Orias have anything to do with a calamity?"
"After the death of Sage Orias, the Truthholder, centuries ago, she left behind one of her eyes which has the power to peer through the future. Although I have similar power, what I have is very limited compared to hers." The Prophet responded.
The Prophet exhaled loudly then continued, "The legends of old spoke that once the Eye of Orias crumbles then a great calamity will descend upon the lands and turn it into ashes."
The emperor gripped the arms of his throne, "Is there a way to avoid this calamity?"
"That- I have no knowledge of, your Majesty," The Prophet shook her head. "It is said that a being with the power of the primordial flames will descend upon us. It leads an army to ravage the lands in its path."
"Is it the Legendary Dragons? A Phoenix, perhaps?"
"It will bring rulers to ruins and usher a new age upon the lands."
"No matter," The emperor spoke confidently, "Whatever beast it is, we will certainly defeat it."
The Prophet bowed, "Then I will take my leave, your Majesty."
The old woman silently left as she came. The emperor was now left there in deep thought.
The emperor turned to one of his guards, "Bring me General Hakeen, now."
"Yes, your Majesty," The golden guard saluted and hurriedly walked off.
***
Viktor sat by the river where Creed fell in, staring at his own reflection. An uneasy feeling lingered in his heart, and he didn't know why. He finally killed his own brother. With his father gone, he can take the role of Commander with no one to stop him. Shouldn't he be happy right now? However, he had this feeling of uneasiness ever since his brother died. Viktor scooped up the water with his hands and rinsed the blood from his face.
"Is something bothering you, Commander?" Tannen approached behind him.
"Hm?" Viktor dried his face with a white handkerchief. "Not at all, Tannen."
Tannen knew something is bothering Viktor, but he did not want to incur his wrath by pressuring him to talk. Viktor pulled the sword from his sheath - riddled with blood and dents - and washed it. Tannen's eyes gradually followed the blood as it flowed down the river. To him, he felt a pang of deep guilt for betraying one of his own. No warrior of Rythall should do this, but he had to follow the Emperor's orders - it is absolute.
"What do we do now?" Tannen questioned.
Viktor sheathed his sword, "We've been ordered to investigate the Lorite Kingdom for suspicion of treason."
"That's impossible," Tannen denied. "The Lorite Kingdom was the most loyal to the Rythall Empire."
"It certainly appears that way, but one of our spies spotted a strange carriage, belonging to the Lorite Kingdom, heading towards the Lo' Shan Empire."
"What!" Tannen grew surprised. "This is considered an act of war!"
"Calm yourself, Tannen," Viktor ordered. "Prepare the men and horses. We need to head to the Lorite Kingdom right away."