Talking about my mother is rather complicated. To explain why, I suppose I should first tell you how things were before my father died.
Our kingdom was recovering from a war with the Mystic Clan. We were finally starting to rebuild. The economy was growing again, we’d signed a peace treaty with the Mystics, established a trade route with the Nature Clan, and even managed to reconstruct every house lost during the war. The future seemed bright—dare I say prosperous—until an unexpected and utterly dreadful disease swept through the land.
It was astonishingly lethal. We lost nearly 30% of our population, including my father.
My mother, Queen Mari, was convinced the disease was the Alphas’ doing. Naturally, she demanded an explanation. And do you know what they said? They admitted it. The arrogance of it all. The Alpha of Pestilence, Loimós, had been experimenting with creating new diseases. Some mortals had been infected purely by accident, and since we were nothing more than “insignificant creatures” to them, they couldn’t be bothered to create a cure.
My mother, rightfully enraged, declared war on the Alphas. I won’t lie to you—it wasn’t the most strategic move. After all, the Alphas are invincible, and they could kill us with little more than a sneeze. But still, we fought. We gave it everything we had, destroying their temples and refusing to yield, even if we couldn’t kill a single one of them.
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And do you know how the Alphas responded? They weren’t threatened. Not truly. They were only mildly annoyed, like someone swatting away a persistent fly. So, instead of wiping us out entirely, they decided on a more… elegant solution.
They forged a sword.
They called it Nothung and gave it to my mother, claiming it was the only weapon in the world capable of killing an Alpha. And here’s the thing—they weren’t lying. The sword could harm them. But that wasn’t why it was made.
I still don’t fully understand how the sword works, but the moment my mother touched it, she… changed.
She abandoned the war entirely, declaring it “pointless” and “futile.” She began speaking of reconciliation and peace with the Alphas, as if they deserved such things. She established trade routes with them, built temples in their honour, and—this part still makes my skin crawl—she began worshipping them. My mother, the fierce, determined woman who once defied gods, now knelt at their feet.
For me, that was the final straw. I couldn’t bear to stay and watch her descend into this… madness. So, I left. I ran away from home and set out on my own journey.
I will find a way to free her mind or, failing that, a way to kill the Alphas myself. Someone has to. And if no one else is willing or capable of stepping up, then I suppose it must be me.