( if you are reading this, this novel isn't ready yet I will take three days please return then )
Two weeks.
That's how long I had spent in my room, doing nothing. Seeing no one—except Nisrin.
In that time, she had become the only person I spoke to. The only person who showed me kindness.
I didn't know why she cared.
But if she hadn't…
I wasn't sure how I would have survived these past two weeks.
That night, I left my room.
I wasn't sure why. Maybe I just needed to move. Maybe I was tired of being trapped in that space with nothing but my thoughts.
The castle's corridors were dimly lit, torches casting long shadows against the stone walls. The air smelled of old wood and faint smoke, and my footsteps barely made a sound against the polished floors.
I turned a corner—
And froze.
Two maids stood at the end of the hallway, whispering to each other.
I was about to ignore them, but then—
I heard my mother's name.
I pressed myself against the wall, listening.
"This place feels so much better with that old witch gone."
A sharp chill ran through me.
"Haha, I can't agree more, hahah."
My hands clenched into fists.
"But that boy… Anazor."
I held my breath.
"He's her son. I just hope he stays away from us."
"Of course he'll be like her. That kind of evil is in the blood. And don't worry—I heard even his father doesn't want him. I doubt he'll ever take his mother's place as lord of the castle."
My chest tightened. My vision blurred. My throat burned.
I turned to leave, to get away before I had to hear anything else—
But suddenly, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"What did you just say?"
The maids flinched, their faces going pale.
Nisrin stood at the other end of the corridor, her usually warm expression gone.
She stepped toward them, presence heavy and unyielding.
The maids stammered. "L-Lady Nisrin, we—"
"How dare you speak that way about the lords of this castle?" Her voice was ice. "Should I report this?"
Panic flashed across their faces.
They bowed quickly, muttering hurried apologies before fleeing down the corridor.
Nisrin exhaled sharply.
The hallway fell into silence.
I swallowed back the lump in my throat, turning on my heel before she could see me.
I ran back to my room.
Behind me, Nisrin stood in place, her gaze slowly shifting to the dark corner where I had been hiding.
I sat at the edge of my bed, hands clenched into fists, head lowered.
My shoulders shook. Silent tears slipped down my face.
I hated this.
Hated that their words got to me.
Hated that no matter what I did, I could never escape her shadow.
Suddenly—
A knock.
Sharp. Firm. Impatient.
I sucked in a breath, quickly wiping my face before forcing my voice to sound steady.
"Enter."
The door creaked open, and Nisrin stepped inside.
Her usual warmth was there, but her golden eyes studied me with quiet concern.
She knew.
"Are you okay?" she asked, softer than usual.
I nodded quickly, hiding my face. "Yeah."
Nisrin sighed, crossing her arms. She didn't push further. Instead, she said, firmly:
"The Chief has made an announcement."
I frowned. "What announcement?"
She hesitated, then spoke.
"The Rite of Embers is happening next week."
The words made me sit up straighter.
The Rite of Embers.
A ceremony older than the tribe itself.
Every child who came of age participated in it—a sacred trial, the first step on the path of a warrior.
It was the moment that defined the future of every member of the tribe.
I swallowed hard.
Of course, this day would come. I had always known it would.
But now that it was here—
I wasn't sure if I was ready.
But readiness didn't matter.
The moment had come.
And there was no turning back.
The cold wind howled as we arrived at Tokal Mountain, the towering peak that had stood closest to our tribe for generations. A sacred place, they called it. Back then, I believed them.
Now? I know better.
At the base of the mountain, the entrance to a massive cave yawned open, its depths hidden in shadow. Dozens of children and their guardians stood before it, their eyes filled with excitement, fear, and anticipation. The air was thick with it.
Guards were everywhere. Standing at the entrance, lining the cliffs above, watching from every vantage point. Each one armed, their expressions unreadable, their hands never far from their weapons.
One of the most guarded places in the entire tribe.
I remember gripping the sleeve of my tunic, swallowing against the growing weight in my chest. I remember Nisrin standing beside me, silent, watchful, blending into the crowd like she always did.
And then—
"Anazor, it's been a while."
I turned.
A girl.
Lisa.
She was my age, but she carried herself with the effortless grace of someone who belonged in every room she entered. Her deep blue eyes gleamed beneath the morning sun, her golden hair flowing freely except for the thin warrior's braids woven into the sides—a mark of her noble lineage.
Even among the gathered children, she stood out.
She was beautiful.
And she was smiling at me.
My heart skipped a beat.
It's weird, looking back. The things that mattered to me back then. The things that made my hands sweat and my words stumble. I had no idea what was coming. No idea that these fleeting moments would one day feel like memories of a different person.
I barely managed to get out a clumsy, "L-Lisa… Hey."
Her smile widened, a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes.
I could have said more. Maybe I should have.
But before I could, her gaze shifted past me.
Her face lit up. "It's Lucas!"
She turned, her golden hair whipping through the air as she ran.
Confused, I followed her gaze.
Then I saw him.
Lucas.
My adopted brother.
And just like that, I ceased to exist.
Lisa ran to him without a second thought while stood there, frozen, watching them exchange smiles.
Even now, I remember the way my chest tightened. The way my fists clenched before I even realized it.
In that moment, I thought I understood what jealousy felt like.
I didn't. Not yet, not until the chieftain arrived.
The air trembled as a deep rumbling filled the space, followed by the sharp sound of hooves striking rock.
A luxurious carriage rolled toward the ceremony site. Not the simple wooden wagons used by the common folk—this one was forged from reinforced black steel, golden engravings curling around its surface like fanged beasts frozen mid-snarl.
Murmurs spread like wildfire.
"The Chieftain is here?"
"He hasn't attended the ceremony in years."
"It's already the third day… why now?"
Then, the carriage door opened. And he stepped out.
My father.
The Chieftain.
His long black coat flowed behind him as he strode forward, a weapon forged in flesh and blood. His burly frame, hardened by war and time, made lesser men stand taller in his presence. His face—sharp, unreadable, as always—never betrayed a thought.
All around me, warriors and children alike stiffened.
This was the third day of the rite. Two groups had already passed through the cave before us, and my father had not come.
But now he was here.
And the whispers shifted.
"Did he come to watch his son?"
For a brief, foolish moment, hope stirred in my chest.
Maybe… just maybe…
I turned toward him, searching, hoping—
And then I saw it.
His gaze passed over me as if I were nothing more than another nameless face in the crowd.
Not a single glance.
Instead, his eyes just focused on Lucas.
And something inside me broke.
And before I could process it, my father spoke.
"The Maridain lands… humanity's new home."
His voice was deep, commanding. The kind of voice that did not need to be raised to be heard.
He lifted his chin, his gaze locked on the distant horizon. Beyond the ceremony site, beyond the tribe, lay the endless mountains that encircled the Maridain lands like an ancient cage.
"On one side, we are bound by the ocean. On the other, by these mountains. All humanity, every tribe, exists within this land."
We all listened in silence.
"When our ancestors arrived in this new world, they left us one warning—"
His eyes narrowed.
"Do not leave the Maridain lands unless the fate of humanity depends on it."
A lesson carved into every child's mind since birth. A warning passed down like scripture.
"Our tribe is one of the strongest. But we are surrounded by enemies—the Fire Carja, the barbarian clans, and this land itself, which we still do not fully understand. You are still young, but after today, that will no longer matter."
He scanned the faces of the children, his gaze heavy.
"You will have to fight not just for your survival, but for the survival of the tribe. We must be strong enough to face whatever is out there—"
His words hung in the air.
"Our existence depends on it."