ROWAN
Age of 12…
The sun was dipping below the horizon, its fading light casting a soft, amber glow over the rugged peaks as we pressed further into the mountains. The deepening shadows barely touched the dense undergrowth, but that only seemed to embolden my determination. Tara lagged behind, her voice tinged with desperation as she pleaded for us to turn back, her complaints echoing through the stillness of the forest. For the past twenty minutes, she'd been trying to convince me to abandon this pursuit, but her words fell on deaf ears. My resolve was ironclad, fueled by a singular, unyielding purpose.
Asdeff's words echoed in my mind: the flower bloomed only during this fleeting time of year, and I was not about to let such a rare opportunity slip through my grasp. With that thought pushing me forward, I plunged into Bronchen Forest, the thick canopy overhead transforming the world around us into a dim, almost ethereal twilight. The forest itself held no real threat to me; it was a place I knew well, bordering my father's personal pavilion. In truth, the entire forest belonged to the royal family, and that knowledge dispelled any lingering fears.
But even as the familiar surroundings offered a sense of comfort, the urgency within me only grew. The flower I sought was no ordinary bloom—it held the promise of curing my herless condition, a possibility too precious to ignore. There was nothing that could stand in my way, no obstacle too great to prevent me from seizing it. My steps quickened, each one carrying me closer to the prize, my heart set on the moment when it would finally be mine.
The mere thought of finally being acknowledged ignited a fire within me, burning away any remnants of fatigue that had accumulated. My lips curled into a smile as the silhouette of the mountain loomed ahead, its imposing form only a few kilometers away. Victory was within reach. I glanced back at Tara, noticing how her hair had shifted to a verdant green, blending seamlessly with the surrounding foliage. That was the nature of a beatman—her ability to camouflage into any environment was her greatest strength. While it wasn't particularly useful in battle, it was perfect for slipping away unnoticed.
"Hurry up, Tara," I called out to her, my voice carrying through the trees. She was lagging behind, leaning heavily against a tree trunk, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Miss, you're walking too fast. Can't we take a short break?" she pleaded, her voice strained as she struggled to catch her breath. "Pretty plizzz!!"
I crossed my arms, tapping my foot impatiently. "Seriously, Tara? We just took a break an hour ago," I protested, exasperation seeping into my tone.
"But miss…"
"Enough with the complaining and just—"
Before I could finish speaking, a low, mocking laugh echoed through the trees, growing louder and more distinct with each passing second. Suddenly, a fierce gust of wind swept through the forest, brushing past me like a whisper of warning. When I glanced up, I was met with an unnerving sight.
High above, an old man lounged on a thick branch, dressed in white martial arts robes that contrasted sharply with the darkening sky. Wooden slippers hung loosely from his feet, and he cradled a gourd of liquor in one hand, sipping leisurely as though he had all the time in the world. His brown eyes glowed with a peculiar darkness, reflecting both mischief and menace as he stared down at us. A quiet, casual laugh slipped from his lips, as though he were amused by a private joke that neither Tara nor I could understand—but the tension in the air was unmistakable.
Tara, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, pushed past her exhaustion to join me, her breath catching in her throat. This man was no ordinary traveler; the sheer weight of his aura made it clear he was a master, his power held in check with effortless control.
"Who the hell are you?" I demanded, my voice cutting through the rising wind.
"Is that any way to greet your elders, you little brat?" he chuckled, lifting the gourd to his lips and taking another sip, his tone dripping with condescension.
"Miss!" Tara's voice was strained as she grabbed my arm, her fear palpable.
"I know," I whispered back, my eyes never leaving the old man. "I feel it too. This guy… he's powerful. Maybe even stronger than Uncle."
The old man began to whistle a haunting tune, each note summoning a blast of wind that circled around us, growing fiercer with every breath he took. Despite the growing intensity, his expression remained unchanged, that same unnerving smile playing on his lips as if he found the whole situation entertaining.
"We're in deep," I muttered under my breath, trying to steady my thoughts as the wind roared around us.
"You're aware this is private property, right? And just so you know, my father is fully informed that we're here," I tried to bluff, my voice steady. "My father is…"
"Augustine Grimclaw," the old man interrupted, his tone dripping with amusement. "And you're the fourth—no, no! The fallen sixth princess." He let out a laugh, the sound grating as he casually picked up a twig and began to clean his teeth with it.
"Calling the emperor by his name, that's treas—" I began, anger flaring in my chest.
"The sun is nearly set," he cut in, his voice indifferent as he turned his gaze toward the distant mountain. "If you're after the Golden Tiger plant, you'd best hurry."
My breath hitched. "How did you…?"
"How else would I know?" he scoffed, the twig still between his teeth. "Any strong practitioner could see your state from a mile away. It's always the same—those who've failed or are struggling in their cultivation come chasing after the Golden Tiger plant, hoping it'll give them the boost they need. Blah, blah, blah… and so on." His words were laced with contempt. "Honestly, if you weren't born to be a cultivator, you'd be better off finding another path."
His words hit the mark, but I shoved the unease aside and pressed on, Tara clinging tightly to me as we moved forward, our steps cautious and deliberate. The old man's presence lingered in the air like a shadow, and I could still hear him gulping down his drink with infuriating nonchalance.
"You do know it's pointless," he called out, his voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and pity. "Why chase after hopeless dreams when you could become my disciple? I'll show you what you were truly meant to do."
I faltered, a strange pull tugging at me to hear him out. When I turned, he was suddenly standing right before me, his size even more imposing up close. He was massive, not just in stature but in presence. His skin, dark and smooth, seemed to glow faintly in the dimming light. The gourd was now strapped to his waist, but the twig still dangled from his mouth, giving him an almost playful air.
"So, what do you say?" he asked, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Wanna be my disciple?"
"What are you getting at?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady. "You know I can't cultivate."
He chuckled, his deep laughter rolling through the forest as he stepped closer. "Who said anything about cultivation or martial arts? There's a world of knowledge out there, beyond the fists and the forms. Things you've never even dreamed of. Blah, blah, blah…" He laughed again, louder this time, as if the mere thought amused him to no end. "So, what do you say? I promise you won't regret it."
Something about him—his confidence, his mystery—stirred a curiosity deep within me, tempting me to find out what he knew, what he could teach. For a fleeting moment, I almost considered it, almost let myself say yes.
But the reality of my world came crashing back down. "No way!" I shouted, shaking off the impulse. "In this world, martial arts and cultivation are everything!"
I didn't wait for his reply. With a firm signal to Tara, we continued our march toward the mountain, my heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline and something else I couldn't quite place.
"You're right…" His voice materialized in front of us, as though he had been there all along, waiting for the exact moment to reveal himself. The suddenness of his appearance sent us stumbling back, Tara's grip on my arm tightening as we both struggled to regain our balance. "Martial arts is everything, but do you want to know what truly matters before martial arts?" His smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with a challenge I couldn't yet understand.
I met his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. There was something off about him—something that made me uneasy, even though I couldn't put my finger on it. He was toying with us, that much was clear. But what was his endgame?
"What is it that you want to teach me?" I asked, trying to mask the uncertainty in my voice with a firm tone.
His expression shifted, the playful edge giving way to something darker, more intense. He discarded the twig from his mouth with a flick of his fingers, his smirk growing wider. "What else, fallen princess, but what you really need," he said, his voice dripping with confidence. "I'm going to teach you how to make money."
A heavy silence fell over us, the absurdity of his words hanging in the air like a thick fog. I blinked, trying to process what he had just said. It made no sense. None of this made any sense.
"Tara, we really need to go," I muttered, turning away with a shake of my head. This man was either a lunatic or playing some kind of twisted game. Either way, I had no intention of sticking around to find out. I had come too far to be sidetracked by nonsense.
"Wait! Waiiiit!!!" His voice, now laced with urgency, chased after us as he hurried to catch up. "Why…"
"No way!" I cut him off, marching past him without sparing him a glance. "Making money? What kind of ridiculous offer is that? Besides," I stopped and turned to face him, anger flashing in my eyes, "I'm a princess. I get an allowance," I declared, my voice rising with indignation. The idea was laughable—me, a princess, learning how to make money? It was beyond absurd. I could have anything I wanted, whenever I wanted. Why would I ever need to learn such a thing?
"But it's no fun, is it?" His voice softened, the words slipping through the cracks of my frustration and settling into the corners of my mind. I hesitated, caught off guard by the unexpected calm in his tone. "Tell me, princess, when was the last time you had real fun? Real freedom?" His gaze locked onto mine, the intensity of his eyes sending a shiver down my spine. It was as if he could see right through me, peeling back the layers to expose something I had buried long ago.
"Fun? Freedom?" The words felt foreign on my tongue, as though they belonged to someone else, someone I used to be.
"Yes, princess, fun!" he stressed, taking a step closer, his presence looming larger with every inch. "What I want to teach you is how to feel true freedom. Real, exhilarating freedom!" He raised his gourd to his lips, taking a long, deliberate drink, his left hand resting casually on his waist as if he had all the time in the world.
"What do you mean by that?" My curiosity, tinged with a growing sense of unease, got the better of me. There was something about him—something in the way he spoke, the way he moved—that made it impossible to ignore him.
He sighed as if the answer was too simple for words. "I can't explain it, princess. It's something you have to see for yourself. Something you have to live," he said, his tone light yet somehow weighty, as though he was offering me the key to a door I didn't know existed. "I'll wait for you in your mansion's garden. The choice is yours. You can continue down this path, chasing after the shadow of martial arts, or you can step into a world where true freedom and fun await you."
And with that, like a whisper carried away by the wind, he was gone, leaving me standing there, my thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and curiosity.
RODERAN
One day before the MoonBound
I gaze intently at the chessboard before me, the same intricate puzzle that my uncle left behind. He's been gone for a hundred years in our realm, off to the Mortal Realm where time flows differently. It's only been ten years for him there. Man, that guy really seems to have all the time in the world. Yet, here I am, staring at this board, contemplating a tactical defense versus a tactical attack. As a general, what's the best course of action? It's absurd. I'm powerful enough on my own—why would I need foot soldiers? The very thought of having to strategize so meticulously irritates me, but then again, this is typical of him. He always loved testing me.
This puzzle is our sole means of communication. When I completed my cultivation, he abruptly dumped the position of Chief Elder on me and vanished, claiming he was too old for the responsibilities and wanted to explore the world before he died. And, of course, he said it was time for the next generation to take over. Those were his parting words before crowning me as his successor.
Ever since then, I've been trapped in his office, burdened by the countless unfinished duties he left behind. The sly old fox didn't complete a single task before disappearing. Just thinking about how busy I've become because of him makes my blood boil.
A captivating scent suddenly catches my attention, pulling my gaze upward to the night sky. It's breathtaking—dark, vast, and dotted with glimmering stars, and mystic beasts soaring through its expanse. That scent, delicate and alluring, is the only beautiful thing left in this old mansion.
The Immortal Realm floats high above the mortal world, nestled deep in the clouds. It's a stunning place where the air is filled with pure spirit energy. This realm is a vibrant landscape of floating islands, crystal-clear lakes, and lush forests that seem to glow with an inner light. The sky is always bathed in shades of purple and gold, creating a sense of eternal twilight.
Each of the fifty states in the Immortal Realm is a unique, self-contained paradise. Spirit flowers, their colors shimmer like rainbows, cover the ground, and mythical beasts fly gracefully through the sky, adding to the realm's magical atmosphere. The air is fresh and invigorating, and the gentle sound of flowing water and rustling leaves creates a soothing backdrop.
The Dragneel Clan rules over the realm, having descended directly from the first deity. This powerful clan manages the realm's affairs with a deep connection to spirit energy. Their leadership extends across all fifty states, and they work with respected elders from other clans to maintain balance and order.
My father, as the head of the Dragneel Clan, leads with the help of these elders. Their meetings are held in grand halls made of living crystal, where the walls seem to hum with energy and wisdom. Decisions are made with a deep understanding of the spiritual forces that keep the realm thriving.
However, it isn't the highest and the most beautiful realm. There was once the Haven realm, where the tru deities resided but the place is long gone. I only grew up with the stories, all about how beautiful the realm was. The spirit energy from it. The continuous cultivation pills were all natural substances there. It was a world that I had always dreamt of reaching but it was beyond my grasp.
"Ah I see you are here today," I smile at the fire swan, flying as she heads for the garden, "it's a pity uncle is not here to see how happy you are," I rush behind it, using my flight skill as I pet it across the garden. Fire swans are rare spirit beasts, known for their grace spirit, soothing to even plants. She in particular is the only one you will find around. I have no idea where my uncle got it but she has the best essence.
"What is it?" I asked, turning to Hendrik, one of my attendants. His face was pale, and he looked uneasy.
"It's... It's Her Majesty," he stammered. "She requests your presence immediately," he added, his voice trembling as he noticed my growing impatience.
"Just tell her I'm busy," I replied, turning my attention back to the fire swan, now settled comfortably in her nest.
"Actually, my Lord..." Hendrik's voice quivered.
"What is it, Hendrik?" I demanded, my patience wearing thin.
"She's already on the lawn," he admitted, offering a nervous smile as a powerful aura burst forth from the direction of the lawn. I sighed deeply, knowing there was no avoiding her this time. Reluctantly, I began making my way to meet her.
"What is the meaning of this?!" Her voice echoed before I even stepped outside. She was standing there, dressed in her usual golden robes, the dragon hairpin of our clan gleaming in her hair, her swan fan clenched tightly in one hand. "Why do I need an invitation to see my own son? Huh? Who do you think you are?" she snapped at the court ladies, who stood trembling with their heads bowed.
"Do you have any idea of the punishment for keeping me out?" she continued, her anger visible.
"Enough, Mother," I called out calmly as I stepped into view. "They're just doing their job. There's no need to cause a scene," I added, trying to defuse the situation.
"Lord..." The court ladies bowed deeply to me, relief evident on their faces.
Mother's expression softened into a broad smile—too broad, in fact. Her head tilted slightly as her smile shifted into a grin. In an instant, she was standing before me, using her stealthy flash step. "Seriously, son, how could you neglect your poor mother like this? I haven't seen you in... how long has it been?" she teased, her voice dripping with mock disappointment.
"We had breakfast together this morning, Mother," I remind her, letting out a deep sigh. "It's only been seven hours since then."
"Mmh, is that so?" she says, a wistful tone in her voice as she tightens her grip on my hand. "Being away from you feels like a century to me."
I try to pull away, but her grip is unyielding. "You should tell that to your husband," I reply, turning to face her, but before I can finish, I feel a familiar pair of smaller hands wrap around my waist from behind.
"Missed me, big brother?" a tiny voice chimes, full of mischief. "I missed you so much."
This is just perfect. The servants around us chuckle softly, clearly amused by the scene. My mother, Calista Ariel Dragneel, and my younger sister, Thalassa Ariel Dragneel, are two sides of the same coin. From the moment I was born, Mother was always hovering—hugging me, kissing me, or crying her eyes out whenever I was out of her sight for more than an hour. Growing up with that kind of attention earned me the dreaded title of "mama's boy," and believe me, it drove me insane. And don't even get me started on how she'd show up at the Academy every single day, as if she had nothing better to do at the castle.
Thalassa, on the other hand, is as adorable as they come—the sweetest, most charming little creature. But thanks to Mother, she's become a miniature version of her, clinging to me just as obsessively. I actually have two sisters; they're twins, but the other one takes after our father. She and I share more in common, and she's currently training to be a magistrate.
"So, what brings you here, Mother?" I ask, finally managing to extricate myself from their clutches. Mother feigns a dramatic sob, while Thalassa remains glued to my side as we settle under the shade of a red peach tree. "And please don't say you missed me, or I'll head straight back to the Jade building," I warn, my tone serious.
"Alright, alright!" she exclaims, adjusting herself and slipping back into her usual dignified posture. "It's been decided—you will be attending the MoonBound event this year," she announces.
"What are you talking about? We agreed that—"
"No, my son," she interrupts, her voice firm and unyielding. "We only made that agreement because of what happened before, but you must understand—by birthright, you are destined to replace your father as Lord. And you know well the first duty of a Lord before all else," she declares, her tone carrying the weight of undeniable authority.
In this moment, standing before me is not just my mother but the Queen of the Immortals, and her words are absolute. She's right—by fate, I am to take my father's place as Lord. It's a destiny I cannot escape, for Father has no other sons, and the responsibility falls squarely on my shoulders. The first task any Lord must accomplish before assuming leadership is to produce an heir. It's a tradition, an unbroken rule adhered to by the three Lords before me, and my father followed it as well. An heir is the most crucial legacy for any ruler, a passage that the Immortals hold sacred.
"I'm sorry, Roderan," she continues, her voice softening just a fraction, "but your time for rest is over. You will meet your fated one at the MoonBound, and there is no room for hesitation or defiance…"
That was how I ended up here, bound by a ritual I despised with every fiber of my being. The very thought of it—of living under someone else's shadow, marrying a stranger I had never even met—seemed utterly absurd. And yet, there I stood, my fate sealed, my name etched into her marble. The sheer force of this union, the overwhelming surge of power it unleashed, was beyond anything I could have imagined.
It all felt so ridiculous, so wrong, and yet there was something undeniable about the connection. From the moment the bond was forged, I could sense the foreign energy coursing through her—a distinct Elven spirit that was at odds with her being. I was certain that this alien power had something to do with the appearance of my name on that accursed stone.
When I lashed out at her, it wasn't just anger that drove me. I wasn't entirely furious at what she had done—she must have had her reasons. But still, attempting to bind someone else to her was an act of pure selfishness. I couldn't stand by and watch her take that path, not when it threatened to entangle us both in a destiny I definitely...
"Enough with the deceit!" I erupted, frustration seething in my voice as she continued to deny it. "Do you think I can't sense the power coursing through you?" My dragon attribute flared to life, the raw energy emanating from my soul manifesting visibly. "Do you think I'm blind to it?"
Her blue eyes locked onto mine, and I saw a flicker of fear cross her gaze. I could sense the confusion radiating from her, and something didn't sit right. How could I be bound to someone like her? It wasn't just the presence of Elven energy that troubled me—beneath that, there was another force. One that was distinctly royal, an ancient and rare power associated only with the highest echelons of the seven royal families. Yet, it was a lost type of energy, long thought to be extinct.
Why did it seem to emanate from her? Who exactly was she?
Suddenly, the marble began to spin with a frantic energy, emitting a high-pitched whine as it twisted rapidly. Without warning, it shattered with a sharp crack, releasing a swirling, dark mist that poured into the air like liquid shadows. The mist undulated and coiled around me, its presence both unsettling and alive, despite giving off no discernible energy. I turned to her, and saw that the same dark mist was enveloping us, focusing its tendrils around our wrists.
As the mist began to coalesce, it formed an inescapable lock, drawing us together with a powerful force. She let out a muted scream as her head crashed against my chest, her body pressing against mine. My arms, reacting on their own, wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly. She looked up at me, and my heart pounded furiously. Her blue eyes, so familiar yet elusive, seemed to draw me in with each fleeting moment. Her delicate lips, slightly parted, made her appear both innocent and vulnerable. As she blinked, her entire expression seemed to transform, revealing a depth that felt both new and achingly familiar.
It was as though I was seeing her for the first time and yet felt as if she had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember. An overwhelming sense of happiness washed over me mingled with the bewildering realization that I had been yearning for her. The connection between us felt profound and undeniable, leaving me both exhilarated and deeply content as I held her close.
A sudden, sharp pain struck my mind, jolting me into an unfamiliar mental landscape. I found myself in a vivid vision: a man in a vibrant red robe, walking with his hands holding a woman dressed in a matching red gown beside him through a garden in full bloom. The man's joy was overwhelming, a radiant happiness that seemed almost too intense to be real.
"How can I feel his emotions so strongly? Why does this strange ache trouble me so?" I wondered, as the vision faded and I returned to the present. My eyes remained locked with hers, and the pain persisted, a deep, confusing sensation.
Her gaze fell to our joined wrists, and I followed her gaze. The dark mist that had swirled around us had settled into a distinct shape. The mist had formed a pattern of seven concentric circles, each one nested within the previous, with a heart at the center of the innermost circle. The design glowed faintly, casting a soft, otherworldly light.
Alongside this intricate seal, delicate threads emerged from both our pinky fingers. These threads wove together like delicate chains, connecting us in an unbreakable bond. The threads glowed subtly, enhancing the sense of connection between us. The symbol and the threads created a powerful, visible link that bound us together, making the connection between us both tangible and profound.
"But how?!" an elder from the pavilion exclaimed, pushing forward in disbelief. "How can the thread of fate and the seal of love appear together? And at the same time? That's… That's utterly impossible! JUST IMPOSSIBLE"
My eyes fix on her as I pull back, first studying the thread before meeting her gaze once more.
"They say those bound by the thread of fate are soulmates," she begins, her tone deliberate. "It's considered a rare gift. According to legend, when two lovers are linked by this thread, they are blessed by the heavens. While the Seal of Love unites them into one body and one soul, signifying that they share a single origin. If…"
"If one of the lovers dies, the other will die as well," I complete her thought, our eyes meeting again. "The thread of fate is seen as a blessing, but the Seal of Love is often viewed as a curse."
She lets her hand drop, her expression shifting to one of distress. "So why are you my soulmate? It doesn't make any sense," she says, her voice rising with agitation. "How could a beautiful woman like me be fated to someone as cold as you? It's absurd."
"What? Did you just call me old?" I respond, taken aback.
"Oh, I heard you're over five hundred years old," she chuckles, turning her face away with a teasing smile.
"That's because time moves differently between our realms," I reply. "And calling yourself a fairy lady? Don't make me laugh! Apart from your impressive blonde hair, you lack the qualities that define a true lady. If you dressed like a man, no one would mistake you for anything else."
She spins around, pulling me closer with the thread, surprising me. "Me, look like a man!" she retorts, crossing her arms defiantly. "For your information, I'm ranked fifth among the most beautiful women in the entire human realm. You can ask anyone! And do you even know how vast the human realm is?"
"Fifth place?" I scoff, watching her with amusement. "So, who are the ones ahead of you?"
"It's not like you'd know them," she says with a hint of pride. "At number four is Lady Etherday, the deity of liquor."
"Etherday, the deity of liquor?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. She pauses and looks at me with a smirk.
"Yes, an old deity might actually appreciate fine liquor," she says, playfully. "And then there's Herlein, the crown princess of the Mermans, who's truly a fairy. After her is Beail Grimclaw, known as the beauty under the glowing moon. She's stunning, but unfortunately, she's already taken. And finally," her tone shifts as she looks up at the sky, "in first place is always her. Haileen Fairch Grimclaw. The only beauty beneath the moon." Her voice softens with a touch of sadness. "So, as I said, I'm number five."
I exhale deeply, shaking my head. This feels like a bad joke. Just looking at her, it's clear she has led a privileged life. Now, I'm bound to spend my entire life with her. The thought alone makes me question fate's intentions. How did this seal come to be on me? I lift my hand to examine it, noting that it's the same seal found on the second emperor's hand—the Seal of Love. For beings like us, it's more of a curse than a blessing. If others find out, it could expose our vulnerabilities. She's not just my MoonBound partner or just a mere fated; she's now a potential weakness. It frustrates me to admit it, but I can't help but feel that attending this MoonBound event was a mistake.