Chapter 1 — Born Into Shadows
The Helvaris estate stood like a monument carved from winter—towering marble pillars, endless echoing halls, and portraits of ancestors whose eyes seemed to follow every step. The family was famous far beyond the city for its wealth, its influence, and above all, its magic. Every new heir was expected to shine brighter than the last.
So when Hetziel was born, the household should have celebrated.
Instead, dread filled the room.
The newborn’s magic was weak—flickering faintly like a candle struggling against the wind. Lord Helvaris’s expression tightened, his disappointment immediate and absolute. A Helvaris heir was supposed to blaze with power. This child… did not.
Behind closed doors, in a hurried, hushed whisper, he gave the order:
“Dispose of the child.”
Only the servant and the midwives heard it. No one else would know.
While the family slept, the servant carried Hetziel away, intending to fulfill the grim command. And before dawn, another infant—strong, vibrant, and brimming with magic—was quietly placed in the crib. When the family awoke, they saw this child and believed him to be their true heir. They never knew Hetziel had ever existed.
By morning, everything appeared normal. To the Helvaris family, their heir had been born healthy and strong. They never questioned it. They never doubted it. And Lord Helvaris comforted himself with the belief that his weak child was gone forever.
Far from the estate, the servant prepared to carry out the final act. But as Hetziel lay in his arms, something unexpected awakened inside the fragile infant.
A surge of magic, wild and desperate, erupted—blue flames, bright as shards of lightning, dancing across the tiny crib. Startled, the servant fled, convinced the infant’s life would end in that single burst. He never returned. He never reported the truth.
Hetziel survived.
Alone, weak, and miles from home, he was soon discovered by a slave trader. The man’s eyes gleamed with opportunity. The infant, abandoned and helpless, could be sold, traded, or used as a tool. Hetziel cried, but no one answered. The flames that had saved him flickered faintly inside him, a secret spark, a seed of power waiting for its time.
Normally, a baby would remember nothing.
But Hetziel was not ordinary. Something settled deep within him—a spark of defiance, a quiet, smoldering vow.
I will not be forgotten. I will not be discarded.
One day… you will see the fire you tried to extinguish.
The path ahead was cruel and uncertain. The hands that raised him would be strangers, the world a harsh and unforgiving place. Yet every hardship, every step away from the marble halls of the Helvaris estate, only fanned the quiet ember within him.
Somewhere far away, the true heir of Helvaris had begun his journey—a journey that would one day bring him back to the family that had tried to erase him.
