The Kingdom of Reality
Chapter 1 — The Crying Child
Wind howled across the frozen plains.
The smell of blood and rotting flesh covered the land.
After a merciless victory by the Kingdom of Klatar, one of the six great nations, the king and his soldiers walked among the bodies of the fallen people of the Elven Dominion of Vareth, homeland of the dark elves—searching for anything of value to take back with them.
The king stood as tall as a full-grown bear, wearing a suit of pure gold armor. His long hair was covered in blood, and his eyes did not dare to blink as he and his soldiers continued walking and searching.
They found nothing.
But they heard something.
They stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening.
The sound was familiar—something neither had heard for a long time.
A cry.
Not a battle cry.
But the cry of a child.
The king dropped his blood-covered sword and immediately went toward the crying child.
Beside the child lay two dark elves, both with their heads cut off, showing how they had used their own bodies to shield the child from the dangers of war.
The child had white hair.
The king gently picked him up.
One soldier stood beside the king and asked,
“Sire… what shall we do with it?”
The king held the crying child close and let out a small sigh of relief. His voice showed signs of exhaustion, relief, and sadness as he finally spoke.
“From this day forth, you shall be named…”
The king and his soldiers returned from Vareth after exterminating all except the white-haired elven child.
Once they returned, they were welcomed with wild celebrations and cheers from the people of Klatar. None of the king’s soldiers were wounded.
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They had all returned in perfect health.
Making their way toward the king’s castle, the loud cheers of the people woke the child from his sleep.
The elven child began crying loudly.
The townspeople suddenly went quiet.
When the child finally stopped crying, one bold man stepped forward and shouted,
“Why is that thing still alive?!”
The townspeople’s cheers quickly turned into angry boos as they demanded the child be killed.
But the king and his soldiers ignored them and continued walking toward the castle.
They soon arrived.
The king hurried inside the castle with the child in his arms.
Standing before him was a tall, elegant woman with golden hair, welcoming him with open arms.
Before she could speak, the king embraced her in a hug that clearly meant:
I missed you dearly.
The woman was Helen Klatar Dragonblood, the third Queen of the Kingdom of Klatar.
The king was Kael Klatar, ruler of the kingdom.
After a moment, the king finally let go of his queen.
Before he could say anything, the child suddenly sneezed.
The queen looked down at the child.
Her eyes widened—not in shock, but in amazement.
Slowly she said,
“That child… is it possible that it is what I think it is?”
The king looked at the child.
“Yes. It is.”
The queen hesitated.
“W… why have you brought that thing here?”
The king looked directly into her eyes before answering.
“I went to war in order to win, not to kill a child.”
The queen looked at the king, then back at the child.
“I assume he has a name… yes?”
“No,” the king replied.
“Then how—”
“I have given him one.”
The queen looked slightly irritated.
“And what is it?”
The king answered calmly.
“Azrael.”
The queen’s expression grew serious.
“You know what naming this child means… don’t you?”
“Yes,” the king replied. “I am well aware.”
The queen sighed.
“Well, since you have already made up your mind, there is nothing I can do to stop you.”
She paused.
“There is something you seem to have forgotten. I will remind you after the meeting.”
“Meeting?” the king asked.
“Yes. Your meeting with the rulers of the other great kingdoms.”
She continued,
“King Askellad of the Northern Realm of Skarvald.”
“Emperor Mallory of the Empire of Solkar.”
“And lastly, King Neptune of the Isles of Myrath.”
“Unfortunately, he could not attend in person, so he sent his eldest daughter, Mergadon Myrath, to represent him and his kingdom.”
“They are here to discuss the issue of the… slaughter of the Elven Dominion of Vareth.”
The king nodded.
“Very well. I should not keep them waiting.”
The queen gently took the child from his arms.
“I will take the little one to sleep,” she said. “You might want to discuss him in the meeting.”
The king nodded once more before walking toward the meeting chamber to greet the rulers of the other great nations.
Meanwhile, the queen carried the child into a quiet room and carefully placed him on a bed.
She looked down at him and softly spoke to herself.
“Oh… I didn’t ask for your name, little one.”
She studied the child’s features.
“You look rather unique. Dark elves usually have brown hair and black eyes… but you have white hair and crimson-red eyes.”
She smiled faintly.
“I wonder what your mother looked like.”
She gently adjusted the blanket.
“I will call you Jacob until I learn your new name.”
“My name is Helen Klatar Dragonblood.”
“And I will be your mother from now on, little one.”
She then looked toward another small child sleeping beside him.
“And this little one next to you is Armediel Klatar, the prince of the Klatar Kingdom.”
“I hope the two of you grow up together… like brothers.”
