A Requiem For Fire

A Glorious Downfall

104 Years Before the Rise, Selandriz

The darkness of night had conquered the day. Rain poured down on the city, and the rumble of thunder sent shivers through every living creature. Everything felt like the end was near.

The damp air of his dimly lit room made his hands sticky. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he pushed back his sleek, black hair in frustration and anger. "Let me out! As the rightful heir to the throne, I command you to move aside at once!"

One of the guards, speaking with a mix of sympathy and shame, replied, "Please forgive us, Your Highness. We cannot disobey the king's orders. He strictly commanded that you not leave this room under any circumstances."

The screams of the young princess and the heart-wrenching cries of a woman echoed through the palace halls, shaking every corner. These sounds tormented the eleven-year-old prince more than anyone else.

Alexander Ayrin, the handsome son of King Azden I and Queen Eldrina Ayrin, was the rightful heir to the throne. Known for his wisdom and intelligence, Alexander was seen as a blessing from Mainis, the Mother, and Lady Hyda, the goddess of pure waters and fertility, after several unhealthy children were born to the king.

The sky roared again, briefly illuminating the humid, closed room. Alexander had made his decision. He could not allow such a dreadful fate to befall his younger sister, sacrificing her to their ignorance and superstition.

He touched the hilt of his dagger, glanced at the two guards standing in the room, and swiftly took them down with agility. At only eleven years old, Alexander had been trained daily by the great knight, Sir Vyre, sharpening his combat skills.

In the grand hall of the palace, the nobles and high-ranking citizens of Selandriz were gathered, awaiting a significant event. The young princess was dragged into the hall by two guards, struggling and screaming, and placed on the ground before the golden throne of the king.

"Let me go! Please! Let me go!"

A raven-haired, strikingly beautiful woman rose from her special seat beside the king's throne before he could waver. Her cold and merciless gaze upon Asha was so intense that it filled everyone with dread.

"Silence, you little monster! Finish this quickly and burn the cursed red eyes of this wretched creature!"

Asha, her voice filled with anguish and tears streaming down her face, cried out, "I'm not a monster! Let me go! My arms hurt!"

At the same time, the cries of the queen echoed once more through the grand hall. Eldryna Ayreen, the wife of Azden I, was in labor again. The nobles of the western lands present in the hall were eager to see if this child would be healthy or, like the others, another strange and monstrous offspring.

Alyza Ayreen, the king's twenty-year-old younger sister, gritted her teeth and impatiently whispered to her brother, "Give the order already. Everyone is waiting for you."

A flash of lightning brightened and darkened the semi-lit hall. The king, seemingly spurred by his sister's prodding, finally spoke, his gaze locking with the tear-filled red eyes of his white-haired daughter.

"Burn them."

Fear dripped from Azden's eyes, but there was also a cowardly cruelty reflected in his expression.

The two guards tightened their grip on the princess's frail hands as an elderly, white-clad Mapra approached. Dressed in the white garb of Aprian priesthood, with her face covered by a veil, she carried two lit candles and advanced toward Asha's eyes. Her hunched back and frail hands revealed her age and the life she had spent in the religious service of Apria.

Asha Ayrin, the Princess of Selandriz, was labeled a monster at birth due to her unusual appearance. According to the court's skilled physicians, the "little monster" had fed on her mother's flesh and blood in the womb, leaving her with crimson-red eyes.

Her snow-white hair and lashes, unlike the rest of her family, were streaked with strands of gold. Her pale skin gave her a ghostly and lifeless appearance, and her blood-red irises struck terror into anyone who saw her—anyone but her older brother, who never feared her and always welcomed her into his arms.

The princess's red irises began to melt under the flame's heat, and her cries of pain grew louder, reverberating through the hall. The elder Mapra, with her wrinkled lips, recited prayers in the ancient tongue of the western lands, placing one hand on Asha's forehead.

"Z'horla Ashya'hra eir-mezben aharrak rih'zuy!"

As the Mapra chanted these words rhythmically, Asha's body trembled, her cries grew more desperate, and tears of blood poured from her white lashes. "May the curse of Ashya be lifted from the king's pure family!"

The witnesses closed their eyes and joined in prayer, as if eager to hear the screams of this demonic being they believed carried the spirit of Ashya, the Red Flame Goddess, into the world.

"Stop!"

Alexander's shout failed to halt the Mapra. He rushed forward, pushed the frail old woman aside, and embraced Asha. His blood-stained clothes and hands shocked everyone. Whispers broke out in the hall, murmurs about a single subject: "The hands of the king's rightful heir were stained with blood, disqualifying him from ever sitting on the sacred golden throne."

This law had been decreed by Azden's father, Zaynar I—known as Zaynar the Stonebreaker and Zaynar the Cruel—after the birth of his second son. Though intended to prevent his sons from warring over the throne, Zaynar's reign was remembered as a period of bloodshed and tyranny.

Despite his reign lasting less than a decade, his death came abruptly when a thin chicken bone became lodged in his throat. At the time, his eldest surviving son was just nine years old. Following his death, Alexander I ascended the throne. However, only four years later, at the age of thirteen, Alexander was abducted, and his charred remains were found in the stables of the "Stone Palace."

During his four-year reign, Alexander I, despite his youth, was rumored to have taken numerous maidens to his bed. Stories of his bizarre temperament and habits were widespread and disturbing. In the Golden Shrub, a chronicle carefully preserved and frequently updated by scholars and writers in the library of the Stone Palace, it is written:

"The king found immense pleasure in torturing virgin maidens. Alexander I harbored an unusual fondness for hunting dogs, snakes, and wild birds, using them to fulfill his vile and depraved desires. He delighted in the notion that people compared him to his late father as a bloodthirsty and terrifying figure. He generously rewarded any poet, writer, or artist who depicted him as the most fearsome ruler imaginable."

By the time Alexander approached fourteen, he began plotting the murder of his two younger brothers, one aged eleven and the other six, to eliminate any threat to his throne. According to the laws established by his father, he could do so without issue, as he had already been ruling for four years. Yet fate intervened; he was abducted one night. Some whispered, "The Dowager Queen Kamina Ayreen of House Kyyang killed her bloodthirsty son to protect her other two children," a theory that seemed entirely plausible.

The princess's sobs continued. Two burly guards held her firmly as they attempted to pull Alexander away. Thunder rumbled across the sky as Alexander drew his dagger. Before the eyes of the king, Alyza Ayreen, and all the prominent lords, he slashed one guard's throat and inflicted a deep, clumsy wound on the other's arm. He then pulled the trembling Asha into his arms. This act put to rest any doubts. It was now clear to all present that the king had no viable heir except for the unborn child that Eldryna carried. That is, only if Eldryna gave birth to a healthy son. If not, the king's younger brother, Danzen Ayreen—who had lived in the land of Thaikhys as a political envoy with their mother since the age of six—would become first in line to inherit the throne.

Little was known about Danzen's temperament by the people of Selandriz, or even by the king himself. Queen Mother Kamina Ayreen's occasional letters provided the only glimpses into his character. In her most recent correspondence, she wrote:

"Your brother is as composed as you, my son. Thankfully, it seems that both of you have inherited this trait from my family. Oh… a thousand thanks to the Maynis the Mother! I pray daily that neither of you will ever harbor the rage and hatred that consumed your father and older brother. Your younger brother is calm, studious, wise, and reserved. His right leg remains as it was. Recently, he chose a wife, a quiet and modest girl who happens to be one of my cousins. However, let me add: when enraged, your brother's wrath is as terrifying as your father's. Fortunately, little provokes him. As you know, he is approaching his twenty-eighth year. May this continue for many more."

Alyza gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth, and the king sprang from his seat like lightning, descending the stairs in haste. A young, newly-knighted man named Sir Hiten Ax separated Alexander from Asha, firmly grabbing the prince's arm. The king approached and, without hesitation, struck his son hard across the face.

"You've brought shame upon your family, Alexander! Look at yourself! Shame on you!" He turned to the young knight, his eyes blazing, and bellowed, "Take him away immediately!"

Alexander struggled, trembling with rage, but his efforts were futile. His fiery eyes locked on the king as he spat, "Tonight, before everyone, I'll celebrate the end of your house!"

Sir Hiten, seeing the prince was unwilling to leave, clamped one hand over his mouth and dragged his thin, wiry frame out of the hall. Everyone heard Alexander push Ax's hand aside and scream, "Azden I, you're doomed! Tonight, I'll celebrate your downfall!"

Eldryna's cries had long since ceased. Blood streamed from Asha's eyes, tracing down her pale cheeks and dripping onto her trembling lips. The bitter taste of iron in the damp air churned her stomach. Alyza exhaled sharply. Though she had orchestrated these events, the weight of what had occurred was difficult to bear. Silence settled briefly in the hall, only to be shattered by Asha's renewed screams: "My eyes! Oh, my eyes! I curse you, Father! I curse all of you!"

Terror gripped the court. A guard hoisted Asha over his shoulder and carried her out of the royal chamber. The ceremony was over; nothing had gone as expected. Azden exhaled deeply and, turning to his chief minister, Lord Vern, said, "Escort everyone out properly. Enough disaster for one night. I won't allow anything else to happen."

Lord Vern nodded but had barely uttered a "Yes, Your Majesty" when the crowd gasped collectively, prompting the king to turn around. Alexander had been right: that night marked the end of the Ayreen dynasty.

Eldryna stood in the center of the hall, disheveled, half-clad in a bloodstained white gown, her face and hair wild with sweat. A trail of blood followed her as she carried a grotesque, bloodied mass in her arms—her newborn child. The lords and those present that night swore the infant was truly monstrous: an emaciated, red, faceless creature with its heart beating outside its body.

Eldryna's tearful, hate-filled eyes locked onto Alyza. Her trembling voice barely audible, she whispered, "This is the last… my last child… and it's yours, Your Majesty."

A handmaiden rushed to Eldryna's side, taking the infant from her arms. With the help of her attendants, Eldryna left the hall. Her final words, fragmented and chilling, were: "They will all… pay. Justice is… coming."

Alyza fled to her chambers and locked the door. The screams of the people echoed through the castle's upper levels. She lit the candles, closed the tall windows, and drew the curtains. Everything felt like an ending. The Ayreen dynasty now clung to a single thread of hope: the king's absent brother, Danzen Ayreen, who resided in the land of Taikis. That is, unless one considered the illegitimate child Alyza had secretly carried for two months—a child no one yet knew existed...

1. The western lands follow the religion of Apria (Nature Worship). They revere the Young Gods. Followers of this faith are called Apras, while its high priests are known as Mapras.