1930, Mountain Estate, Republic of Coslevia.
The sun was yet to ascend the mountain peaks when Maksim Xekhai woke up. He'd always been an early riser, an inherited trait from his father, Ilkin. His father was the rising sun of the Xekhai family, bright, relentless, and life-giving. Maksim, poised to follow in his footsteps, bore the weight of his family name with pride and solemnity.
The mountain estate was still in the lull of sleep, save for the soft clatter from the kitchen and the occasional shuffle of guards on their morning rounds. Maksim walked to the grand window, his silhouette imposing against the dim dawn light. He looked at the sprawling landscape dotted with industrial hubs, the lifeblood of the Xekhai Corporation. His father's empire, soon to be his.
His mornings were sacred, reserved for introspection and preparation for the day ahead. His father had always said, "Our businesses may run on iron and silk, Maksim, but they're powered by intellect and forethought." He took these words to heart.
Dressed in a tailored suit, he descended the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the grand hallway filled with portraits of Xekhais past. His destination: the office where his father used to oversee their expanding empire before his health deteriorated. Now, it was Maksim's stronghold.
Seated behind the massive oak desk, he delved into numerous reports, correspondences, and financial statements, a routine that used to intimidate him when he was younger. But he had grown since then. His father's son. A leader in the making.
The morning passed in strategic decision-making, swift instructions, and thoughtful contemplations. The promise of a new day became the symphony of growing enterprise, the steady heartbeat of industry echoing in the vast mountains of Coslevia.
Lunch was a family affair, but his mind was still occupied with trade figures and production rates. His mother, Alina, her once vibrant eyes now shadowed with concern for Ilkin, tried to steer the conversation away from business, but Maksim knew it was futile. The Xekhai family breathed commerce, even over casual meals.
Post lunch, Maksim visited his father. Ilkin Xekhai, once a force of nature, now lay confined to his bed, but his eyes still held the same fiery determination. "You are the new dawn, Maksim," he rasped, his hand finding Maksim's. "Lead our people into the future. The empire awaits you."
As the day waned, Maksim stood by his father's bedside, the sunset painting the room a soft gold. He felt the weight of responsibility settle firmly on his shoulders. The day was ending, and with it, an era. But a new one was beginning, a dawn led by Maksim Xekhai. The sun had set, but the son was rising. His journey had just begun.