Argon Solis, a distant relative of mine, hailed from a branch of my uncle's bloodline that stretched back countless epochs. Like my uncle, he was driven by an insatiable desire, his ambitions fueled by an unquenchable thirst for power and authority. For Argon, the pursuit of control was all-consuming, a hunger that mere influence couldn't satisfy. He believed his birthright within the House Solis bestowed upon him an inherent worthiness that gave him the right to look down upon others as inferior.
Argon cared only for the final outcome, blind to the wreckage his methods left behind. Innocence was irrelevant to him; he saw people not as individuals but as tools or obstacles. Manipulation, coercion, and even outright violence were simply the currencies he traded in to secure his ambitions. To Argon, suffering was never a deterrent but a necessary toll on the road to his imagined destiny. In his eyes, the end always justifies the means, and the bodies of those who fell before him were nothing more than stepping stones toward his ultimate prize—a throne.
A throne that my very existence threatened to take from him.
Within House Solis, the title of prince was traditionally earned through merit, awarded to the most skilled and ambitious among each generation, as my mother, the reigning monarch, had never given birth to any children.
My birth, though, disrupted this ancient tradition. From the moment I entered the world, I wasn't merely another contender—I was declared the true prince of House Solis.
My mother's proclamation sent waves of discord through the ranks of our House. For a family steeped in tradition, my birthright challenged their belief in earned power. In many ways, I shared their sentiment. A title as significant as a prince should be earned, not handed down, and I felt the need to prove to myself and others that I was worthy of this title.
Many, however, saw my position as an open challenge. They believed that defeating me, the first direct descendant of the Lightbringer would secure not only the title but also the true legitimacy of House Solis. To them, my existence wasn't just an upheaval but an opportunity to cement their claim.
For me, it was a battle for survival and honour.
I was determined to prove that despite my genetic mutations, I was worthy of the throne—and worthy of being my mother's son. Though my genetics had deviated, my spirit and my will to protect the legacy of House Solis remained unwavering. I would show the world that my rise wouldn't be defined by blood alone. It would be forged through merit, honour, and an unyielding resolve to rise above the shadows of my lineage and claim my place on my own terms.
"Cousin?" Natalia said, her voice thick with confusion as she glanced between me and Argon. "You're a member of House Solis.?"
Before I could respond, Argon interjected with a smirk, his tone dripping with condescension. "Oh, so Samuel didn't mention it, huh? Not surprising, really. Given his... lack of distinguishing characteristics, he probably wanted to keep a low profile. Honestly, I'm surprised he even managed to make it into Class 1. Let me guess—what are you, Class 1-D?"
"Actually, I'm in Class 1-A, Argon," I said, my voice steady but edged with irritation. "What about you? What class are you in?" Before he could reply, I added with a more pointed tone, "Actually, on second thought, I don't care," Waving my right hand in a dismissive manner. "You need to spend less time focusing on others Argon and worry more about yourself. You constantly look like you're about to pop from all that pent-up anger."
"You little shit," Argon snapped, his tone shifting from a slight condescension to outright venomous. His smirk was wiped away and replaced by a hard, icy glare that cut through the air between us.
"I didn't come here to be insulted by you," he muttered, his words sharp as high matter.
"Well, neither did I." I said brusquely, "But we don't always get what we want. That's just the nature of the world around us." The sharpness in my tone matched the coldness in his eyes.
"Okay, boys, settle down," Noel said in a calm voice from across the table. Her eyes shifted between me and Argon, a hint of concern flashing in them.
Argon shot her a quick glance. "What gives you the right to think you can order me around." He snapped, his tone laced with malice. "This is a family matter. It's not something you should involve yourself in."
"Enough," I snapped, my patience running thin. "What is your purpose for being here, Argon? We both know that you wouldn't have come here just to gloat, no matter how egotistical you are."
"I met a unique individual during the entrance exam," Argon stated, a smile once again plastered on his face. "An archer, let's just say he didn't make it through the entrance exam. Once I got ahold of him, he squealed like a rat. Couldn't stop begging for mercy and explaining how all his efforts were in vain, and how you and some other guy slaughtered his team, leaving him the lone survivor."
He leaned forward slightly, his tone almost taunting. "So, I thought I'd come to check up on you. He swore he shot you center mass with an arrow. Guess I'm curious how you're still standing."
"He shot me in the right lung," I said briefly, my voice steady. "You and I both know that won't take someone down from our lineage, even without undergoing genetic resonance."
Argon smirked, "Well, it seems you inherited some of our house's genetic traits after all." Getting tired of this back-and-forth quibble, I cut to the heart of the matter. "Did you find out who sent them?"
"Sadly... No," he said, a hint of genuine frustration laced in his voice. "Even though he begged for mercy, he wasn't willing to give up any information. Whoever—or whatever—sent him and his group must have been far more frightening than I am."
I couldn't help but think that, in his convoluted way, Argon believed it would disgrace House Solis if I perished in such an unworthy manner. As much as he despised me, I was still family, and in his twisted sense of honour, he likely saw my death as something he should control—a death that would benefit him and solidify his own position. He wasn't about to let it come at the hands of some lesser foe.
"Okay, I've had my fill of conversation with you," Argon declared, his tone laced with boredom as he pushed himself up from the table. Without waiting for a response, he turned and began making his way toward the exit. On his way, he casually grabbed a plate of food off a nearby table, ignoring the startled protest of its owner.
He paused as he reached the door plate in hand, glancing back over his shoulder with a smirk. "Take better care of yourself, my Prince," he said, his voice dripping with mock respect. How he said it—half a sneer, half a challenge—was more unsettling than any outright insult. Then, without another word, he disappeared into the bustling streets, leaving behind an air of tension and unease that clung to the room like smoke.
"Prince," Natalia repeated, her voice barely above a whisper, her tone filled with awe and disbelief. She blinked as if trying to process the weight of the revelation. "You're the prince of House Solis?"
Her gaze Searched for confirmation as though she doubted her ears. Then, almost instinctively, her eyes flicked toward Noel. It was a quick, subtle glance filled with unspoken words and shared understanding.
"Yes, I'm the prince of House Solis," I admitted, my tone carrying a hint of pride. I had intended to keep this information under wraps, at least for now, but Argon had abruptly ended that plan. His penchant for theatrics and his need to assert dominance ensured the revelation came out in the most disruptive way possible.
"I was trying to keep this a secret for personal reasons," I said, my gaze shifting between Natalia and Noel. "But now that you know, I ask one thing—don't treat me any differently."
My voice was steady, but there was a faint edge of vulnerability beneath it. The last thing I wanted was for this revelation to shift the dynamic between us.
As Natalia began to speak, Noel quickly interjected, her voice calm yet firm. "It's completely understandable," she said reassuringly, her gaze steady. "I can understand your reasoning, but honestly, addressing Argon's rudeness wouldn't have been out of place."
"Yes, I'm sorry about him," I said quickly, shaking my head. "He hates me to the core, and, frankly, his personality is... dreadful."
A faint sigh escaped me as I glanced toward the door where Argon had recently left. "Unfortunately, I've been dealing with him since the training all young nobility of House Solis must undergo. It never got any easier as the years went by—if anything, his personality only grew more insufferable."
I paused for a moment, the memories of our gruelling sessions flashing through my mind. "He's always had a knack for turning everything into a competition, fueled by this overwhelming need to prove he's better than everyone, especially me."