Chapter 1
Introduction
Tír na nÓg
Tír na nÓg is an ancient realm blessed by the Divine, where four great dominions stand beneath the rule of four Lords, each entrusted with a sacred power. Every dominion is home to its own race, traditions, and magic, bound together by fragile alliances and centuries of rivalry.
The South – Dominion of the High Elves
The South is ruled by the High Elves, celestial descendants gifted with divine magic and extraordinary mastery of the arcane. Their lands are peaceful, filled with sacred forests, floating temples, and crystal rivers. Wisdom, balance, and spiritual enlightenment guide their rule, and the greatest mages and healers are born within their kingdom.
The North – Dominion of the Dark Elves
The North belongs to the Dark Elves, masters of shadow and ruin. Feared across the realm for their ruthless strength and commanding nature, they wield darkness as both weapon and shield. Though harsh and unforgiving, they govern with strict justice. They are the eternal wardens of the ancient dungeons and prisons, where the realm’s most dangerous creatures and forgotten evils are sealed away.
The East – Dominion of the Moonwave Elves
The eastern lands are ruled by the Moonwave Elves, legendary warriors blessed by the moon itself. Every child is trained from birth in combat, stealth, and discipline. They possess the rare gift of invisibility, allowing them to move unseen across battlefields. Swift, loyal, and fiercely protective, they serve as the realm’s finest scouts, assassins, and defenders.
The West – Dominion of the Werewolves
The West is governed by the Werewolf Clans, whose strength and resilience have made them both formidable warriors and prosperous traders. Their territories connect all four dominions through vast trade routes, making them the economic heart of Tír na nÓg. Honor, loyalty, and family are the foundation of their society, and their Alpha Lords command the respect of every neighboring kingdom.
Though each dominion follows its own customs and laws, all four are bound by an ancient Divine Covenant. As long as the balance between the four Lords remains unbroken, peace endures. But should one Lord seek dominion over the others, Tír na nÓg itself would descend into an age of war, where gods, monsters, and kingdoms alike would face annihilation.
Chapter one
Southern Dominion
The Southern Palace lay silent beneath a sky scattered with countless stars. Moonlight poured through towering crystal windows, painting silver patterns across the polished marble floors. At such an hour, every servant and guard should have been asleep. Yet somewhere beyond the quiet corridors, raised voices echoed through the royal residence.
A small boy padded carefully along the hallway, his bare feet shivering against the cold stone. Five-year-old Prince Sylvan clutched the edge of his sleeping robe, following the sound despite knowing he shouldn’t. As he reached the council chamber, he noticed the heavy doors were slightly ajar. Curious, he peered through the narrow opening.
Inside stood his parents.
King Osian faced Queen Evelyn, his usually calm expression filled with desperation.
“I want this marriage to end,” Evelyn said, her voice trembling despite her resolve. “I am not your fated mate, Osian.”
Sylvan’s tiny fingers tightened around the edge of the doorway.
His father stepped toward her, his eyes pleading.
“Please… think about Sylvan. Think about us.” His voice cracked with emotion. “Have I ever been a bad husband to you? Have I ever treated you with anything but love?”
Evelyn lowered her gaze before answering.
“This isn’t about you.”
She inhaled slowly, forcing herself to continue.
“He is my fated mate.”
“I have already chosen my future.”
“I want to be with him.”
The words struck the room like a blade.
“Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“Sylvan will stay with you.”
King Osian looked as though the ground had vanished beneath his feet.
“I can’t do this, Evelyn…” he whispered. “Please… think again.”
“Don’t leave us.”
Outside the chamber, Sylvan felt his little heart pounding painfully against his chest. His throat tightened as he struggled to breathe. Before another word could reach him, he turned and ran.
His hurried footsteps echoed through the empty palace until he nearly collided with one of the maids.
“My goodness, Prince Sylvan!” she exclaimed, quickly catching him before he could fall. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
She gently brushed the silver hair away from his face.
“You shouldn’t wander around the palace this late.Come.
Let’s get you back to bed.”
Sylvan never answered.
He simply nodded and quietly followed her.
Back in his chamber, she tucked the blankets around him before sitting beside the bed. For several minutes, Sylvan stared silently at the ceiling.
Then, in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he asked,
“…Will my mother leave me?”
The maid’s heart ached.
She gently stroked his silver hair.
“No, little prince.”She won’t.”
Don’t worry.”Everything will be alright.”
She smiled as warmly as she could.
Now close your eyes.You need your sleep.”
Sylvan slowly obeyed.
As he closed his eyes, a single tear slipped quietly down his cheek and disappeared into the pillow beneath him.
That night, exhaustion eventually carried him into sleep.
But deep within the heart of the young prince, a question had already taken root.
If Mother truly loves Father…
Why does she want to leave him?
It was the first night Sylvan learned that love and fate were not always the same thing.
Morning arrived, but the Southern Palace no longer felt like home. The servants moved through the corridors in complete silence, their faces pale and their smiles gone. Whenever little Sylvan passed by, they lowered their eyes or looked at him with quiet pity. Though he was only five years old, he could feel that something had changed. Something had disappeared from the castle forever.
He quietly entered the grand dining hall.
The long royal table had already been prepared for breakfast, yet the atmosphere was unbearably heavy. King Osian sat alone at the head of the table, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and it was clear he had not slept at all. Beside him sat the Queen Dowager, regal as ever despite the grief surrounding the palace. Her silver robes were immaculate, her posture perfectly straight, and her sharp eyes softened only when they landed upon her grandson.
She gently patted the empty chair beside her.
“Come here, Prince Sylvan.”
Without a word, Sylvan walked over and climbed onto the chair.
The elderly queen studied him for a moment before speaking.
“You haven’t greeted your grandmother, Prince.”
Sylvan lowered his head immediately.
“Good morning… Grandmother.”
She nodded with quiet satisfaction before letting out a disappointed sigh.
“She was never worthy of being Queen.”
“Not even enough to teach the future king proper manners.”
Her gaze remained calm.
“But that matters no longer.”
She reached over and gently adjusted Sylvan’s collar.
“From this day forward, I shall personally oversee your upbringing.”
“You will become a king worthy of the Southern Dominion.”
King Osian slowly lifted his tired eyes toward his mother.
“Please do as you see fit… Mother.”
His voice carried no strength.
Only surrender.
For a long moment, Sylvan simply looked between them.
Then, with innocent hesitation, he finally asked,
“…Has Mother left me?”
Silence filled the hall.
The Queen Dowager leaned closer and gently placed a hand upon his small shoulder.
“She has gone, my prince.”
“But you are not alone.”
“Your father and I will remain beside you.”
She smiled faintly.
“You are a strong child.”
“One day, you will rule the entire Southern Dominion.”
“And when that day comes…”
“…you must learn never to depend completely upon another person.”
Sylvan didn’t fully understand her words.
But he nodded obediently.
His blue eyes slowly drifted toward his father.
King Osian stood from his chair and walked over.
Kneeling beside his son, he gently kissed the top of Sylvan’s silver hair.
“Should I tell you a secret?”
Sylvan’s eyes brightened immediately.
He nodded eagerly.
King Osian smiled—a small, weary smile that barely reached his eyes.
“There are monsters in this world.”
“And your father will defeat every one of them.”
“They won’t be there to hurt you when you grow older.”
Sylvan blinked curiously.
“…Are you stronger than the monsters?”
A quiet chuckle escaped the king.
“I am.”
He gently brushed a strand of silver hair away from Sylvan’s face.
“But one day…”
“You will become the strongest of us all.”
For the first time since the previous night, a small smile finally appeared on Sylvan’s face.
He believed every word his father had spoken.
He didn’t yet know…
That some monsters could never be defeated with swords or magic.
Some lived inside broken hearts.
