The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting gold and crimson over the silent shore where Zuleta stood, her hair tangled in sea winds and her eyes fixed on the endless blue. The mysterious girl had led her here — a stranger who said little, but whose presence gave her a strange sense of familiarity, like a song remembered from childhood.
Together, they watched as mermaids surfaced from the depths — not like the tales told in books, but majestic, glowing creatures of the sea, their bodies half-water, half-light. Their laughter was like windchimes, their sorrow like tides.
And then, they vanished.
One by one, they slipped into the deep ocean, like dreams fading at sunrise. No splash. No trace.
Just silence.
Zuleta’s breath caught. It was beautiful — achingly beautiful.
But inside her, a shadow stirred.
This is temporary, she thought.
Something heavier loomed. Something colder. She didn’t know what it was, but the calm around her felt like a pause before the storm. Not just for her, but for the whole world.
Earth Kingdom: Eldin’s Rebellion
Far beneath the forests and into the heart of stone, the Earth Kingdom stood strong, steady — and cold in its traditions. Among the noble family of House Edric, the youngest son Eldin felt none of the weight that kept the mountains tall. He felt only emptiness.
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His elder brother, Torin, was the chosen heir. Tall, mighty, born with a voice that echoed power, and hands that split the ground beneath him. Their younger sister, Liorn, was a fierce warrior, the first female Earthborn since their mother — sharp, brave, and adored.
Eldin?
He was different.
While Torin tamed stone and Liorn mastered weapons, Eldin nurtured life. He studied rare flowers in hidden caves. Learned ancient healing arts from forgotten scrolls. His magic didn’t command — it comforted. He didn’t want thrones or weapons — he wanted peace.
But peace had no place in his father’s court.
King Edric tolerated him. Queen Thalendral ignored him. They praised Torin’s strength, celebrated Liorn’s brilliance — but never looked his way.
Eldin wasn’t even allowed to eat with them. When the royal family dined, he remained in his chambers — waiting for the echoes to fade before entering the hall alone.
He didn’t complain.
Not until that night.
A sparring session turned bitter. Words flew. Then fists. Then power.
Torin won — effortlessly.
It was supposed to be training.
But it was a test.
He saw it in their faces. His parents had been watching. Judging. Deciding.
Later that night, he heard them whispering:
“We already have the children we need.”
“Torin will rule. Liorn will lead.”
“Eldin… was a mistake.”
That was it.
He packed his satchel with herbs, scrolls, and a worn-out map. He donned his armor — not for war, but for the world outside. And he stepped toward the door.
Just then, he heard footsteps.
Liorn stood in his path, eyes wide.
“You’re leaving?” she whispered. “You know we’re not allowed. The bloodline can’t abandon the Root.”
Eldin looked down, his jaw tight. “I’m not abandoning it. I’m finding a reason to stay alive.”
Before she could speak again, Torin appeared.
For once, the brother didn’t yell. He didn’t threaten.
He opened his arms, and pulled Eldin into a strong embrace.
“Don’t let their voices drown out your own,” Torin said softly.
“You may not be made for this palace. But maybe you’re made for something greater.”
Eldin’s throat burned. He held his brother close, then turned to his sister, giving her a small smile.
“Take care of them,” he said.
“Come back,” she whispered.
And with that, he walked away — alone, but no longer ashamed.
His destination?
The Water Kingdom.
He had heard stories — of kindness, of healing, of jewelers who carved wisdom into gemstones, and scholars who read the ocean like a book.
He would find a new name for himself there.
Maybe even a purpose.
Maybe even a home.
