From a distatendant Frederick spotted his employer, Alexander Quinn Are, the first prince of the Empire of Are, sparring with his most trusted knights. The rhythmic csh of swords and the focused expressions of the warriors filled the bustling training ground. Reizing the prince, Frederick quied his pace.

  “Yhness! Yhness!... Excuse me… Excuse me… Yhness!” he called out, weaving through the chaos of dueling knights and dodging errant blows.

  The prind his knights paused, turning toward Frederick, who was clearly out of breath. One of the knights chuckled. “Hey Fred, what’s the rush? Is someone in bor?”

  Laughter rippled through the group, but Frederick, regaining his posure, delivered his news with urgency. “Yes, Yhness. Your wife is in bor.”

  The words barely left his mouth before Alexander bolted toward the chambers, dragging his loyal attendant along as though his life depended on it.

  Agatha Beltrix, his wife, was a woman of unmatched beauty and strength. Known as the R Tigress of Archduke Philip Beltrix’s estate, she anded respect across the empire. Her fiery red hair, peach blossom eyes, and delicate features masked a temperament that had earned her the title of the Iron Lady.

  When the infamous “Demon Prince” married the Iron Lady, it shocked the empire. Their legendary cshes had once beealk of high society, but their union, trary to expectations, was one of love and mutual respect. While scheming noblewomen and their ambitious mothers had hoped for discord, the couple’s unshakable bo no room for rivalry.

  Upon reag the chambers, Alexander found himself barred from entry by the bustling maids on Agatha’s orders. No men were allowed i even her husband.

  Defeated but resolute, Alexander began his vigil outside the door. Refusing food or rest, he paced anxiously, ed by thoughts of his wife and unborn child.

  While the prince fretted over his family, others in the royal court were preoccupied with far less noble s.

  In her quarters, Empress Evelyn Russels schemed with her personal maid. “Emily, what do you think? Is it going to be a boy?” she asked, her tone sharp with anticipation.

  “I don’t think so, Your Majesty,” Emily replied with a smirk. “But if it is, I’ve already arranged for maids to hahe matter.”

  Evelyn’s tension eased slightly. Good, she thought. My children and I will still secure the throne.

  Such thoughts were not uo the Empress. Across the pace, schemers awaited news of the birth, each calg how the newborn might alter the bance of power.

  Meanwhile, Emperor Theodore Alldyn Are awaited his first grandchild. Though his calm facade gave nothing away, his fidant, Sir Niorrari, sehe storm of emotioh. Theodore prayed for an heir who would unify and strehe empire. Above all, he wished for the child’s health, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that this grandchild would be extraordinary.

  As the empire held its breath, the skies above split in an awe-inspiring dispy. Half the sky darkened under a brilliant moon, while the other half glowed with an uling sun. The celestial event captivated the empire, sileng even the pace’s most ing spirators.

  Finally, Agatha gave birth.

  At the moment of the child’s arrival, a beam of light pierced the pace roof, illuminating the newborn in a radiant glow. Startled by a maid’s scream, Alexander defied all orders and burst into the room.

  What he saw left him speechless. His newborn daughter floated midair, enveloped in a radiant glow. Through the split sky above, a beam of light desded, eg her to the mythical Heavenly Pace—long thought lost to history.

  Overe with disbelief, Alexander extended a trembling hand toward her, only to recoil as the light resisted his touch. For the first time in his life, fear pierced through his stoic resolve. “What is happening?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

  Exhausted from batha’s emotions overwhelmed her. Tears streamed down her face as she gazed at her glowing child. Fear gripped her heart. “Alex, save her,” she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper yet filled with desperation.

  Her plea cut through Alexander’s turmoil, pierg his soul. For the first time, he felt utterly helpless. He could do nothing but stand there, waiting for the phenomenon to end. As the radiant glow slowly faded, Alexander caught his daughter securely in his arms. Only then did Agatha, Alexander, and the rest of the onlookers let out a collective sigh of relief.

  The phenomenon sted mere seds, but its effects rippled across the empire. Stardust rained from the heavens, transf barren nds into fertile fields, reviving withered vegetation, healing the sick, and imbuing water sources with medial properties. The empire erupted in celebration. To the citizens, the child’s birth sighe dawn of a new era.

  As the otion subsided, golden orbs appeared in the room, materializing into the gods who safeguarded the world from the Abyss. Everyone preseo their knees in reverence.

  “Hail to the Gods of Ausra Nevaeh. May your holy light shiernally,” they intoned.

  “May the blessings of the ORUE BEIh you.”

  The prind the maids watched, awestruck, as the gods turo Alexander.

  “Prince Alexander of Are,” Destin, the God of Destiny, said, “may we meet your daughter?”

  Still stunned, Alexander led them to the crib. “Yes, my lord,” he said, his voice steady despite the awe that coursed through him. The goddess of fertility, Dairin, approached and cradled the child. She gazed into the newborn’s eyes—one a brilliant sky blue with silver flecks, the other a deep purple with golden specks—and smiled.

  Gathering in a circle, the gods observed the child with profound reverence. Destily touched her nose and spoke. “Prince Alexander, your daughter will bring peace to this world—and beyond. She is wise beyond her years. We are not here to bless her, for she is already blessed by the ORUE BEING. We offer only our hopes and await the day she bees our savior.”

  Alexander, fused, asked, “But how? Wasn’t the ORUE BEING goer the war?”

  Destin’s gaze softened. “Prince, have faith. When the Abyss believed no new god would rise, the ORUE BEING foresaw this day and made a way.”

  With that, Dairily returhe child to her crib. The gods cast one final g the newborn before vanishing, leaving behind orbs of light.

  In her quarters, Empress Evelyn watched as her personal maid approached with an uneasy expression. “Your Majesty, it’s a girl.”

  At first, Evelyn’s face lit up with joy. But her sharp eyes quickly caught the disfort in her maid’s demeanor. “What is it? Why do you look so troubled?”

  The maid hesitated before replying, “Your Majesty, the child was marked by araordinary celestial event.”

  The Empress’s smile vanished, repced by a gre. “Nonsense!” she roared, her fury erupting as she swept an array of expensive wares off the table, smashing them to the ground. Her hopes that the child would be insignifit were shattered.

  The maid, armed by her master’s outburst, cried out, “Your Majesty, please calm down! Don’t fet, she’s just a girl.”

  Evelyn froze, her wild eyes narrowing as she processed the words. “She’s just a girl,” she murmured, her tone softening. Slowly, she vinced herself: She’s only a girl. My grandson will always challenge for the throne.

  Little did she know, time would reveal the truth: strength ainy are not bound by tradition.