"Is this…..is this all real?"
Caden was amazed by the sight before him. Before them stretched a kingdom so vast that it seemed to blur into the distant horizon. A living, breathing sprawl of white stone buildings, golden tiled roof and towering spires.
At the heart of the city, narrow streets wove through bustling markets, open courtyards, brothels and ancient halls.
But what truly stole the breath was the mountain.
It rose at the far end of the kingdom, its slopes cloaked in mist and dense stretches of evergreen trees that thinned as the height grew cruel.
Perched near its peak, as if defying nature itself stood the castle of the king— vast, weathered and carved into the mountain itself.
Its towers pierced the sky like stone spears. The castle's walls bore the weight of centuries, darkened by the rain, scarred by the storm and yet it still stood proud.
From there, the king would see it all. Every road. Every roof. Every rise of smoke and every banner of noble families unfurled in the morning wind. He could witness it all.
"Is it not, Caden? Is this your first time in Noxthistle?" asked Celestine
"Yes!"
"How much do you like sword fighting Caden?"
Caden's eyes lit up hearing the word 'sword.' He had always desired to wield one like his father.
With excitement, he answered, "I love sword fighting."
Celestine smiled at Caden and then both of them entered through the enormous gates of Noxthistle but as they were about to enter, they were stopped by a knight.
"The sigil?"
"I don't need one, I am the member of Avernight family."
The knight took a glance at Celestine up and down while Caden hid behind her.
"Can you please step aside? We will need to verify if what you're saying is true or false."
The knight grabbed Celestine's hand and forced her to move aside. Caden's hand went cold from fear that something might happen again. Celestine looked and smiled at Caden and reminded him not to worry.
Celestine complied to the knight's request to avoid any ruckus and moved aside with Caden.
"What's a sigil?" asked Caden!
"It's a small round shaped stone with patterns on it. We need it to enter the capital!"
Caden reached into his pocket and pulled out a round stone, "Like this?"
Celestine took it and when she flipped it, she saw that it was a sigil of Thorian who was once a commander of the army in Noxthistle.
"Here. I found it. Now we can enter right?" Celestine took the sigil and gave it to the knight.
The knight thoroughly checked it and gave Celestine and Caden permission to enter the kingdom.
As they passed through the towering gates, a wave of scents hit Caden all at once. Spiced meats sizzling over open flames, sweet honeyed pastries, and the faint musk of wet stone. The air was thick with life.
Stalls lined the narrow streets like a maze of color. Crimson silks fluttered beside racks of shining trinkets, dried herbs dangled from ropes.
Caden was wide-eyed, spinning slowly as he tried to take it all in. Street performers danced with fire, their faces painted in silver. Children weaved between the crowd, laughing, and somewhere, a bard plucked a sorrowful tune on a weathered lute.
As they kept moving, they reached a grand circle. A wide, paved expanse where five roads converged. At the center rose ten towering flags, their silks catching the wind like dragons in flight. Each bore ancient patterns—some wreathed in flame, others etched with celestial stars, thorned roses, and shadowed wings—emblems of the Ten Arcane Families who once shaped the fate of Noxthistle.
"Celestine?"
A voice came from the crowd.
"Celestine! What brings you back so early, my lady? If I remember correctly, your departure took place not but a week ago! And who might be the little child with you?"
At a glance, Celestine realised who the person was. He was the Patriarch of the Starhaven family.
"My lord!" She lowered her gaze and gave slight curtsy, "I suppose that the news have yet to reach the capital. The village on the foothills of Azkaroth was looted and burnt to the ground. Your brother, Thorian was also killed. This child is his son and your nephew."
The Patriarch's eyes widened with shock, his face in denial as he fell on his knees.
"I… I see. What about Layla?"
"I am sorry."
The Patriarch coughed, his hands on the ground and tears in his eyes. Yet he gathered the courage, wiping the tears off his eyes, he stood up with a forced smile on his face.
"You must be Caden right? Thorian did send me letter when you were born! I never got to visit your village because of my duty. My name is Arthur Starhaven. Your uncle."
Caden clenched his chest. For a heartbeat, he could hear his father's laugh, deep and full echoing in Arthur's voice.
"Celestine, Caden, why don't you come to my house?"
"I would be honoured!" said Celestine.
Arthur Starhaven turned, his long silver cloak catching the breeze as he led them to his house. Caden silently followed, his hands clutching the end of Celestine's robes.
The city opened around them with every step—more towers, more banners, and streets humming with the pulse of a thousand lives.
They passed a bridge arched over a slow moving canal. The lanterns hung from posts, their glass casings etched with runes began to flicker with soft blue flame as the dusk set in.
Arthur looked back, his voice gentler than before, "This must feel like a dream to you."
Caden nodded, slowly, "It does."
He didn't say more, the blue flames of the lantern, the image of his burning village still haunted the edges of his vision.
After a short walk they arrived at the estate nestled between two marble towers. Twin statues of winged lions flanked the gate with the symbol of Starhaven family— eight stars above a crescent blue moon—was carved above the archway.
As the gates opened with a low creek, warm light spilled out from within. Servants in silver-and-black livery bowed deeply, murmuring greetings as Arthur entered.
"Prepare two guest rooms and have the fires lit." Arthur ordered softly.
The interior was nothing like Caden had ever seen. The quiet and wide halls, the gleaming floors.
A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling made from Vyracrite— a gem found only on the frozen volcano, Azkaroth—and portraits of past Starhaven patriarchs lined the walls, their painted gazes proud and solemn.
A fireplace crackled in the main hall. Arthur gestured toward the velvet seats nearby.
"Please. Sit. You must be exhausted."
Celestine helped Caden to one of the chairs. His legs were tired, but his eyes kept roaming.
Arthur poured wine into a pair of silver goblets and then turned to Caden, holding out a third—smaller, carved with dragons.
"Only juice," he said with a smile. "But it's from the orchards behind the mansion. The sweetest in the kingdom."
Caden took it cautiously, his fingers trembling just a little.
"I know this can't be easy," Arthur said after a moment of silence. "Losing your parents… being brought to a strange city. I know I can never replace hum but I swear this to you, Caden—so long as breath remains in me, you will not be alone. Therefore I ask for your permission. Can I be your adopted father?"
The words fell heavy in the warm room.
Caden looked up, the firelight catching the tears gathering in his eyes.
"Can I… can I become like my father someday?" he asked, voice barely more than a whisper.
Arthur knelt beside him.
"You already are," he said, placing a firm hand on Caden's shoulder. "But one day, Caden… you will be something even greater. You're a special boy Caden. Even after going through so much pain, you still choose not to cry. Don't be so hard on yourself. I am sure your father would be proud."
And in that moment, for the first time since the flames of his burning village, Caden cried.