Chapter 1: Ashes of a Dream
The clang of wood against stone echoed through the silent forest clearing. A lone boy, maybe fifteen, swung a rough-hewn sword at a tree trunk, sweat dripping down his brow. His form wasn't elegant, but it was fierce. Determined.
Vileal had no name when the orphanage took him in. Just a pale-haired child with too much silence in his eyes. The others would mock him—too quiet, too soft, too strange. But he never responded. Instead, he watched the royal knights march past the village road, their banners high, their armor gleaming. He watched, and he dreamed.
Every night, he trained under the moonlight with sticks and stones. Every morning, he read stolen books of warfare and chivalry. He worked in fields for scraps, sometimes went days without food, but never missed his training. The world could laugh—but he refused to give up.
By the time he was twenty, he'd already joined mercenary ranks, fighting not for gold, but for experience. He became known not for his words, but for his calm in battle, his strategy, and his unshakable stance.
That's where Commander Samuel found him—after a skirmish where Vileal's unit defended a village from raiders. Sam saw something others missed: loyalty without condition.
"You fight like someone who has nothing to lose," Samuel had said, kneeling beside him after the battle. "But I think you fight because you still have something left to protect."
Vileal didn't reply, but Sam extended his hand anyway.
"Come with me. The kingdom needs men like you."
And just like that, Vileal entered the royal army.
The capital was overwhelming—marble towers, endless banners, the sound of music and politics swirling through the air. Vileal kept to himself, speaking little, listening much. Still, his name began to spread among the soldiers: the White Wolf, they called him, for his silver hair and unshakable calm.
Samuel treated him not just as a subordinate, but like a younger brother. Over cups of bitter tea, Sam would speak of his loyalty to King Baron Argendtis and the honor of serving the kingdom.
"No matter what happens, Vileal," Samuel had told him once, "you protect them. You put your heart and soul into it."
Vileal remembered those words like scripture.
He didn't expect his next assignment would bring him close to royalty.
The orders came quickly: a diplomatic journey to another kingdom. The princess would be traveling with the king, and the roads ahead were dangerous. Vileal was chosen as part of the elite escort detail. Samuel clapped him on the shoulder with a proud grin.
"She's… not an easy one," he warned. "But she's brave. Don't speak unless spoken to—and for the love of the gods, don't get on her bad side."
Vileal merely nodded.
On the morning of the departure, he stood at the gate as the royal carriage arrived. Out stepped a woman dressed in blue velvet and silver trim. Her hair was long, dark as midnight, her eyes colder than any frost he'd ever faced. She glanced at her guard detail with disinterest—until her gaze fell on Vileal.
For a second, she stared.
Then she turned away with a scoff and stepped into the carriage.
That was the first time he saw Princess Selene Argendtis.
He didn't know it then—but his life had already begun to change.