Chapter 1
The Tragedy of Jesters
The Kingdom of Hysterical.
It is a land where special children are born as the chosen ones, they are called the Staunchness of the Kingdom.
Each chosen child is born possessing every great quality: morality, power, wealth, intelligence, kindness, and mastery even in combat. They are destined to enter this world, bear these gifts, strengthen the kingdom, and stand as protectors to the Emperor, the people, and all those they hold dear.
Today marked the arrival of the 10th generation—the most significant day of all.
The moon hung beautifully in the sky that night, shaped as a perfect crescent. Ancient belief foretold what this meant: four children would be born.
The whole kingdom fell into chaos and commotion. Never before had this happened. In every generation prior, only three chosen children arrived. Now… there would be four?
The Emperor immediately gathered the leaders of the three tribes for an urgent council.
The question hung heavy in the air: Who would form the fourth tribe? Their entire kingdom was built upon the balance of three divisions—how could they possibly split it into four?
Before the child even drew their first breath, the fourth birth became the problem at the center of everything… the very root of conflict.
Then, the Sycophantic Tribe made their move. They proposed gathering all the orphans, the homeless wandering the roads, and those too poor to live the lifestyle of the established tribes, and uniting them as the new fourth tribe.
They flattered the Emperor endlessly, speaking of how great and kind he would appear for allowing this, and how it would make the people loyal, respectful, and forever devoted to the crown.
Every member in the chamber froze.
If this plan passed, the Sycophantic Tribe would gain immense power and influence—for they were the ones who suggested it, and surely the Emperor would place them in charge of this new group.
The other two tribes refused to let this happen.
The Arcaniva Tribe spoke first, their tone sharp and laced with hidden meaning.
“Oh really, Sycophantic? You truly must be a great person to think of such a wonderful idea.”
Beneath the praise lay the truth: They were not wise enough to understand the needs of the people, but clever enough to see a chance to gain something for themselves.
Then the Veilon Tribe joined in, their voice dripping with similar sarcasm.
“Arcaniva speaks the truth. You have suggested something none of us could ever have imagined.”
As the tension rose and an argument was about to break out, the heavy doors burst open. The royal apothecary stood there, breathless and shouting—
“The Staunchness of the Kingdom is born!”
Instantly, all conflict ceased. Everyone rushed toward the birth chamber, their earlier disputes forgotten.
There, laid before them, were indeed four children.
Sullen Helliophilia Staunchness
A baby boy. The first child.
Illumoria Staunchness
A baby boy. The second child.
Memento Mori Staunchness
The third child.
And finally,
Aisha Reverie Stellaviva Staunchness
A baby girl.
The fourth chosen one.
The root of all commotion.
And just like that, we are born.
