Nathen lay on the simple cot in his small room within the church, the evening’s events still weighing on his mind. Sister Marry sat beside him, her kind eyes filled with understanding. She began to tell him one of her favorite stories, knowing it would help him sleep.
"Long ago," she started, her voice soft and melodic, "before the seven kingdoms came into being, there was a god-king named Baliven. He was the first ruler of what would become the Kingdom of Blue Rose. Baliven was not like other kings; the gods blessed him with the power to heal and to speak with the creatures of the land. It was said that wherever he walked, life flourished."
Nathen's eyes grew heavy as he listened, the familiar tale soothing his restless thoughts.
"One day, Baliven planted a single blue rose in the heart of the land. This rose was no ordinary flower; it pulsed with the magic of the gods, its petals shimmering with an otherworldly light. From this rose, the kingdom blossomed, its fields became fertile, and its rivers flowed with pure, clear water. The people thrived, and they revered Baliven for his wisdom and kindness."
Sister Marry smiled, seeing Nathen's face relax as he sank deeper into the story.
"The blue rose became the symbol of our kingdom, representing life, hope, and the divine blessing that Baliven bestowed upon us. It is why our kingdom is named after it, and why we hold it in such high regard. Even now, the descendants of Baliven's line carry on his legacy, protecting and nurturing the land he loved so dearly."
Nathen sighed contentedly, his eyes fluttering shut. He always loved Sister Marry’s stories. They brought a sense of peace and wonder to his otherwise chaotic life.
"Sister Marry," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, "do you think I'll ever know who my parents were?"
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Sister Marry's expression softened further, and she gently brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. "Perhaps one day, Nathen. The world is full of mysteries and unexpected discoveries. Do you remember the story of the kingdom of Khanriya?"
Nathen nodded slightly, his curiosity piqued even through his drowsiness. "Yes, the kingdom that existed before the seven. The one ruled by King Irmen, whose last name was also Albrich. But that's just a myth, right?"
Sister Marry chuckled softly. "Indeed, it is said that Khanriya was a mighty kingdom, renowned for its power and wisdom. But the celestial gods waged a war amongst themselves, and in their wrath, they destroyed Khanriya. Some believe it was a punishment for the kingdom's hubris, others say it was simply a casualty of divine conflict. Whether it's true or not, it is a tale that has been told for generations."
Nathen murmured a quiet acknowledgment, already drifting off to sleep. Sister Marry stayed by his side until his breathing became slow and steady, her heart filled with affection for the boy who had become like a son to her.
---
In the grand citadel of Ilyria, the seven rulers of Taeloria reconvened in a clandestine meeting. The earlier confrontation had made it clear that unity was an elusive goal. Instead, they settled into a wary alliance, each harboring their own secret ambitions.
King Rodric of Red Falcon addressed the group, his voice low and conspiratorial. "We all know the importance of the blood of Artemis. If we cannot find the one destined to become the Red Rising, we must take matters into our own hands."
Queen Selene nodded, her eyes gleaming with cunning. "Agreed. We must prepare for the eventuality that the prophecy does not unfold as expected. We shall create our own Red Rising—a safeguard if you will."
The other rulers murmured their assent, each contemplating the power they would wield if their plan succeeded.
King Torvald spoke next, his voice gruff and authoritative. "We shall call this initiative Project Morning Star. We will combine our resources and magics to synthesize the blood of Artemis, and use it to create a being capable of fulfilling the prophecy."
The Sultan of Sable Sands, a man with eyes as dark as the desert night, added, "But we must ensure absolute secrecy. If word of this reaches our enemies or even our own people, it could lead to chaos and rebellion."
Chief Aella of the Frostlands, her demeanor as cold as her icy domain, said, "We have no choice but to succeed. The balance of power in Taeloria depends on it."
As the rulers of Taeloria formalized their plans, a sense of foreboding settled over them. Project Morning Star was their gamble against fate, a desperate bid to control a prophecy that had already begun to unfold in ways they could not predict.
In the quiet village of Nika, Nathen slept peacefully, unaware of the machinations surrounding him. He dreamed of blue roses and ancient kingdoms, kings and gods, and a destiny slowly, inexorably, drawing him into its grasp.