The beginning

It was winter again... 

Three hundred winters had come and gone since the Nigon tribe summoned their greatest king, Azkun, to be reborn. Three hundred years have passed since the war obliterated their lands, and many of their people have been slaughtered. Province after province, the soldiers of Isda have vanquished the region of Nigon.

Izkon was once one of the richest Nigon provinces. The fourth province to be ravaged by the war. The hellish flames of Isda had engulfed the city, blazing through the harshest of winters and turning the once-bustling streets of the province of Izkon into dust. The icy storms of the winter could not quench the flames of Isda; the black, hellish flames burned with fury even through the white jabs of snow. Only the castle of Izkon and its desolate survivors remained. 

Queen Illya's labor screams echoed throughout the walls of the birthing chamber at the west wing of the castle of Izkon. A pale woman with long red hair dressed in a white garment lay on the bed; her eyes were closed, and her breathing was labored. "I will not have this baby if my husband is no more." Her voice was strained from labor pains and screaming.

Her gray eyes sparked with a glint of hope as she saw a maid rush into the birthing chamber, but the spark dimmed when she heard the maid speak.

"Isda soldiers have broken through the castle gates, my Queen." The maid spoke hastily; dismay was apparent on her face. "The men who remained have gone to fight."

"And the king?" Illya held her breath, waiting for a response she already knew in her heart and felt in her soul. Her husband was dead.

"The king of Izkon and our soldiers have fallen." The maid wailed as she uttered words too heavy to be spoken.

Queen Illya's heart shattered. She wept loudly and almost rolled off the bed, but the midwives held onto her firmly. The baby must have sensed its mother's frailty because, in that moment, it forced its head out of its mother's body.

"The baby is crowning!" the second midwife called out from beneath the Queen's garment. 

"It's a prince!" The second midwife announced this with joy as she handed the baby over to the tired queen.

Illya smiled briefly as she held her son in her arms. His hair was white like his father's, and his eyes were a brilliant blue. At her observation, her brows furrowed and her lips pursed into a frown. "He is the last of the Izkon royal bloodline; I must protect him at all costs."

A young maid ran into the birthing chamber, panting with trepidation and sobbing, "Your Highness, Isda soldiers have released Dagun inside the castle gates; our men are being slaughtered. We don't have much time till it reaches the castle; we have to leave now." 

"Dagun!" The midwives and maids repeated as they were alarmed and frightened. "We are all going to die."

Queen Illya got off the bed, carrying her newborn with her. "I can hold off Dagun long enough for everyone to escape."

"No, Your Highness. You are still too weak, and the prince is only a baby less than a minute old; he can't live without his mother." Her maid protested. "Let's run away together." Her eyes pleaded.

"It is impossible! Dagun cannot stop until it drinks royal blood." Queen Illya said that as she took in all their faces, her expression was solemn. She had decided that she would face death with bravery, like her husband. 

"Amaya." She called softly as she motioned to the older maid, who quickly came to her and knelt. "My Queen."

She kissed her baby on his head and handed him over to Amaya.

"You will be the wet nurse and the foster mother of Prince Kyon the Third."

"It is an honor, my queen," Amaya responded with teary eyes. It was truly the greatest honor a respected noblewoman could receive.

"Take Prince Kyon to my father, King Oryn of the Province of Azule. He would keep him safe." She instructed Amaya. 

Then her gaze turned to her cana, her chief maid. Her words were swift and urgent: "There is a passageway down this hallway leading to the underground bunker where the women and children are hidden. In the bunker behind the portrait of King Vedros, there is a wall leading to the tunnel of the fallen kings. The end of the tunnel leads out of the province to the forests that bound the province of Enok. Unlock the wall leading to the tunnels by repeating this spell: ew eht øoldb fo Izkon kese gəufre hgrøuh eht zaem fo eht llaenf gniks. Lead the women and children through the tunnel. The tunnel is full of treasures. Take as much as you can; you will need it."

Instantly, the air turned frigid and stiff, and loud screeching sounds reverberated from beneath the grounds, sending chills through their bodies.

"Dagon has entered the castle; leave now." Queen Illya commanded with urgency and watched as they all raced out of the chamber.

"You must live, my son." She whispered almost like a prayer. 

Queen Illya had just turned seventy; she was born during the war, after the desolation of Numeuh. She was the only daughter of King Oryn of Azure, the Dagon Slayer. Her father was revered for his abilities and had earned the rank of one of the five strongest Nigon fighters. 

Illya closed her eyes briefly as she amplified her body with magic and called forth her sword and armor. At that moment, bronze armor clad her body, and her sword flew into her hands. 

She raced out of the birthing chamber, through the right hallway, and down the grand stairs into the throne room. 

It would come for her, she knew; it had sensed her royal blood. Prince Kyon III is a mere baby; his scent is not as strong as hers, as she hoped as she clenched her sword tightly.

Suddenly, the rays of sunlight emanating through the tall open windows of the throne room darkened, and out of the ground where she stood, a black mist spurted out, nearly causing her to tumble. A deafening screech followed as the mist launched at her. It was invisible to her because of the low visibility. It moved quickly, slicing her chest with its talons. 

Luckily, her magic bronze armor did not break, and she withstood its attack. 

Suddenly, it was as though the very air she breathed was asphyxiating her, and her body weakened, struggling for air.

Dagun pinned her to the floor as it opened its mouth to bite out her head. 

She floundered to cast a spell; it was a fire spell her seven-hundred-year-old father had taught her. 

Her body turned into red flames, causing Dagun to retreat from her. She flew up from the ground, burning brightly through the darkness. 

The Phoenix spell took thirty years to master, but Illya was able to master it in seven years. Regardless, she could only hold the spell for a limited amount of time. The spell required great stamina because the internal organs were hardened to protect themselves from the heat, and the fuel for the flames came from the user's abilities.

Dagun launched at her again, but she could see it this time. Its wide mouth with sharp teeth gaped at her, but she slashed it with her flaming sword, and it vanished.