The story of the Avan Kingdom is one of unity, power, and betrayal. It was once a shining beacon of harmony, built by the merging of the Avan tribe and the Ulthar tribe. Together, they gave birth to the Avan Kingdom.
Soon after, the Inaru tribe, with their incredible architectural skills, and the Orthy tribe, known for taming beasts, swore loyalty to the new king. But the Eresh tribe—known for their dark, forbidden magic—vanished after their defeat, leaving behind nothing but whispers of their existence.
At the heart of it all was my father, King Morphine, and my mother, Queen Lysandra. Under their rule, the kingdom thrived. The tribes worked together, sharing their strengths and abilities to build a kingdom like no other.
Offensive magic was banned by the queen, and it became embedded into the earth itself. Standing on that land meant you could bend magic for anything—except harm. It was Lysandra's way of creating equality.
But even in a kingdom so perfect, cracks began to form.
---
For years, my father and Lysandra had no children. I've imagined what it must've been like for her, smiling through the ache of knowing she couldn't bear him an heir. She tried to hide it, but my father knew. He was good at pretending too.
One night, during dinner, she said to him, "I wish I could make you happy, my king."
He looked at her, smiling that forced smile he wore so often. "I am happy, Lysa."
She didn't believe him. "No, you're not. You want an heir to the throne, Morphine. I see it in your eyes every day."
He didn't reply. He couldn't. Instead, he stared at his plate, hoping the silence would save him.
That's when she said it. "I have a suggestion."
He frowned, suspicious. "What suggestion?"
She called for her maid. "Elara, come here."
Elara entered the room, her head bowed low, and I'll admit, even from the stories I've heard, I can picture her beauty—calculated, almost dangerous.
"She's from the Eresh tribe," Lysandra said. "Though she has no powers or talents, I want you to take her in and raise an heir with her."
The room went still. My father's expression turned to fury as he slammed his goblet down, spilling wine everywhere.
"You're crazy," he said, his voice cold, before storming out of the room.
---
Months passed. Lysandra's suggestion lingered in the air, unspoken but not forgotten. Then one night, it happened. My father, drunk and vulnerable, fell for Elara's trap. She seduced him, and a few weeks later, she announced she was pregnant.
I imagine the shock in my father's eyes when he heard the news. But Lysandra, she didn't flinch. In fact, she was happy for him. She even supported Elara through her pregnancy, a gesture of grace that Elara didn't deserve.
When the twins were born—Kai and Ella—my father was overjoyed. He made Elara his second wife, and for a time, the three of them seemed to coexist peacefully.
But fate wasn't done with them yet.
---
Against all odds, Lysandra became pregnant. The news swept through the kingdom like wildfire. When I was born, my father named me Billy and called me his miracle. I don't know if it was true, but I've always felt like I was the glue holding him and Lysandra together.
Elara didn't see it that way. She saw me as the wedge driving them apart.
I guess it was inevitable. My father started spending more time with me and Lysandra. She was his first love, after all, and I was his favorite child. Elara couldn't stand it. Her pride turned into bitterness, and she began whispering venom into Kai and Ella's ears.
"You are the true heirs," she told them. "Billy is nothing but a threat. Never trust him. Never trust her."
---
Growing up, I tried to be close to my older siblings. I wanted a family, like the stories my father told me about the tribes uniting. But Kai and Ella never gave me a chance. They avoided me, their eyes cold and distant, and treated my mother like she was some kind of curse.
My father didn't notice. Or maybe he didn't want to notice. He kept saying we were one family, but deep down, I think he knew the truth.
This is how it all began. The seeds of rivalry were planted long before I even understood what they meant. Now, as I write this, I can see how those seeds grew into something dark—something that would change the kingdom forever.
Looking back, I realize my childhood wasn't just lonely—it was a battlefield.
Kai and Ella, my older siblings, didn't just ignore me. They made it their mission to make my life miserable. At first, it was subtle. They'd take my favorite toys or trip me during our lessons. But as we got older, their cruelty grew sharper, like knives hidden behind smiles.
Kai, with his natural strength, would shove me around during training sessions, calling me weak. "How could you ever be the king? You can't even stand on your own two feet," he'd sneer as I struggled to get up. Ella, on the other hand, used her words. "Father only loves you because you're his pity project," she'd whisper when no one else was around. "You'll never be enough."
And then there was Elara. My stepmother. She wasn't cruel in the same way her children were. No, she was clever about it. She ignored me completely, as if I didn't exist. During meals, she'd serve Kai and Ella first, lavishing them with praise, while I got whatever was left. When I tried to talk to her, she'd smile, but her eyes held nothing but disdain.
One time, I remember getting a nasty fever. I was too weak to move, and all I wanted was someone to sit with me. Elara walked into my room, holding a tray of food. I thought, maybe this time, she'd show me kindness. Instead, she placed the tray just out of my reach and said, "You'll get it yourself if you're strong enough to be king."
I never ate that night.
The worst part wasn't the pain or the isolation. It was the silence. My father was too busy with his duties to notice, and my mother, Lysandra, was often away dealing with the affairs of the kingdom. I didn't have anyone to turn to.
It was in those moments, curled up in the shadows of the castle, that I vowed to never let them break me. They might see me as weak now, but I knew deep down that my time would come. One day, I would prove them all wrong.
[Continuation Up Next]....