Ranvir rubbed a hand over his smooth-shaven chin as he examined the notes on the table in front of him. His office was silent, the low ambiance of nature slipping through the newly installed window. He could vaguely make out the sound of others throughout the building, but it was quiet at the moment.

His office was bare. A desk of a lighter wood to fight off the darker walls. A couple of chairs sat opposite him, and one wall was half covered by a mostly empty shelf. Ranvir wanted to fill it out, but even if he’d grabbed every book he owned, it still wouldn’t have done anything.

When he had a bit of free time, he’d be working on one of his side projects. Usually, his own additions to the notes of space manipulators. With his knowledge and experience, he figured he’d add plenty of expansion on the subject. Especially, considering only he and Figir, the space manipulator who’d died some forty years before he was born, were the only ones who’d had any sort of scholarly bend.

He didn’t know how much knowledge had been lost due to Figir’s untimely death, but even what she had left behind had been of limited usability. She’d been a more natural talent than most, having breezed into her first-stage almost purely by accident or instinct. Technically, Ranvir was still not as advanced as she was, still sitting at the First-Stage.

By this point, however, Ranvir had replicated most of the recorded feats of space-generators, including some more obscure moves like stretching limbs, which was a useless and risky technique. Certain acts took a lot more preparation than others. Replicating selective expansion of space required him to lug around material for niche effects.

There were some applications where he could move others around by adding space cleverly, however this was a nightmare to pull off. If their native presence wasn’t strong enough to resist him, they weren’t powerful enough to be a threat. Besides, simply dropping someone into a pocket-space was way easier.

But that wasn’t his focus today. Yesterday, while he’d been in Belnavir, a new batch of records had arrived, a mix of requests from various people. Mostly him and Kirs, since it had come from the Capital.

Ranvir understood them not wanting to rely on him for easy travel, but having to wait for some tethered to find the time to bring the papers to them was frustrating. Still, no need to sulk over it. They were here, and he had the time.

His documents were composed of three records, collections of notes on the Sun King. From his fresh beginnings to the years after his rule. Ranvir was hoping to find some information about Saleema hidden away within.

If she really was the First Daughter, then any information found within could be extremely helpful. If he could parse fact and fiction. Most of these came from ancient Ankirian records, after all. When Bacchus first ruled, there was very little structured written language in Elusria, or what would one day become Elusria.

Bacchus, the name which every royal in the Ankirian bloodline was given, was born to an unknown mother and father on the fringes of an oasis in the Ankirian desert. Some records claimed that there had been extreme sun-blights that year, omens for his rise.

Most information said that Bacchus was immediately notable for his strange appearance, namely his strange eyes. If this was not a retrofit of historians, that meant Bacchus had somehow been born not only with a tether already in place, but was perfectly aligned with it.

All the papers say that he was born with powers, destined for greatness. Some say it was the sun-blights playing up the activity of the Three Sisters, the Ankirian’s take on the Triplet Goddess, others say that he was born into the strange water of the used to awaken tethered.

Either way, they are consistent on this topic, enough so that Ranvir almost disbelieved it on principle. So many scholars agreeing on one thing almost assuredly meant they’d been paid off. Either that or it was such a commonly known truth as to be indisputable.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

There were enough claims and records of Bacchus ‘showing his divine right’ as a child. Vague enough that Ranvir had trouble believing it. As if the records couldn’t be sure of the child’s power, so they left it vague.

Either way, once Bacchus grew into his majority, he quickly started making a name for himself. His power outmatched anyone on his level, not to mention how far he outstripped others his age. Enough that he began making enemies, but he could not be stopped.

At this point in history, there were only a couple Triplet Masters in all the world. Each had crafted their own little fiefdoms. Places where they controlled. Even Masters did the same. Bacchus could not stand this idea and so forged for himself an alliance.

On reaching the third-stage, he drew to him allies. Growing the foundation of his power. Bacchus stifled his own talent, halting his progression to stop from becoming a target. Only once his base, the town that would one day become the capital of Ankiria.

He let his military genius flow, unleashed his talent, and soon rose to be unchallenged across the plane. Only, he found trouble in holding the territory he’d taken. He could roll over any army, but the people would resist him the moment his main forces left.

For a time, he was forced to retreat and cement his rule. This led the young King to establish what would become the basis of his royalty. He restricted access to awakenings, giving only to those chosen by his hand. Through careful selection and gracious use of his knowledge and charity, he raised new rulers of those tribes and cities he’d conqueror.

Nobles who could win over the people for him. Show them that life could be better beneath his benevolent hand. It was also at this time that Bacchus discovered the technique that would earn him his name.

During his next campaign, Bacchus, the Yellow-Fiend, King of Sun-Blight Desert, strode up to a single walled city and proclaimed his rule. Of course, they denied him. So he took the sun away.

In that spectacular moment, a new name was born for all who knew him understood that Bacchus, the True King, ruled even the heavens. With a wave of his hand, the sky darkened until even the sun retreated from the arrogant rulers of the city.

King Bacchus could not see what was going on beyond the walls, but he knew the noises that grew with each passing day. Often, soldiers would come out to shoot arrows or bolts of power at him, but they were nothing to his magnificence, and they soon learned the futility of their effort.

Then one day, Bacchus watched as the gate fell open and a victorious mob burst through it. They understood what his coming meant. The people knew him to be chosen by the Goddesses.

Without ever lifting a hand, Bacchus Ankiria had conquered the city. Swiftly, his name raced across and beyond the sand. The King’s legend spread. Whenever his name was spoken, whether it brought a quiver to voice, a tear to the eye, or a smile on their face, it was said with reverence.

His titles grew as his reputation did. To those that believed in him, Bacchus became the Lord of Light, Sun King, Golden-Eyes, Chosen, and Goddess-Born. To those that cursed by him, he became the Yellow-Fiend, Sun-Scourge, and Serpent-Spawn.

It at was during this time that the Sun King’s first child, a daughter, was born. She had inherited her father’s golden eyes and his intuitive affinity for their power. By the time she reached her majority, the Bacchus line had no reason to fear an unworthy successor.

Saleema al-Bacchus was every bit her father’s daughter. Until tragedy struck. There are conflicting claims as to which event broke the First Daughter. Whether the death of her child, a push in a military scheme, or some tragic assassination attempt on her, all that is known for sure was her sudden and sharp change.

Within months, the First Daughter, nearly as powerful as her dad, went from the country’s second-biggest asset to its greatest threat. In a horrifying showdown, the Sun King stopped the threat to his kingdom.

The effort broke him, if not as violently as his daughter. Within the decade, Bacchus had another five children, each born with those yellow eyes, but none inherited their eldest sibling’s impressive skill.

Bacchus selected his successor from his children, each of whom awakened both easily and with power. It was known then that the royal line meant power. Every child born to the Sun King’s lineage awoke to power.

Though the Sun King retreated from the public to live out the last of his days as a recluse, he left Ankiria with a powerful heritage. Sparking traditions such as the Yellow-frenzy, where in young royals go wild throughout the city, spreading their genetics as much as possible. Any child with yellow eyes could simply go to the palace and instantly receive the benefits of royalty, even if they had no claim on the throne.

Even as the potency of his line faded, the tradition continued. Even now, they are often on the lookout for ‘half-bloods,’ people with enough royal blood to color their eyes without taking on the same yellow tint as their forefathers.