Chapter 1: ILLIAM KAEDREN

 The statue of an ancient knight stood tall over a picturesque, cold town in the northern lands. The moss covering it gave it an old, almost forgotten air, as if time itself had condemned it to silence. Beneath its feet, life carried on—children playing, merchants shouting their prices, and elders passing the time.

In front of it, a young man passed by carrying a heavy bundle with ease. His name was Illiam Kaedren—its great-grandson.

"Uff... Alright, that’s everything, right?" Illiam said, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a satisfied smile.

"Thank you so much, young Kaedren. My back can’t handle that much weight anymore!" replied an old farmer, smiling gratefully.

"Don’t mention it, it’s no problem," Illiam answered, raising a hand.

"You’ve grown a lot, you know, boy? I’m sure your father would be proud of you!"

"Sure—proud to see me carrying sacks," Illiam joked with a chuckle, though his tone was kind.

After waving goodbye, he went on his way. His black hair and honey-colored eyes made him blend in among the crowd, yet his demeanor stood out. He walked upright, with calm steps. His clothes, though simple, were well-kept and perfectly fitted. On his chest, a brooch shaped like an eagle gleamed in the sunlight—the emblem of his family.

"Hey, Illiam! How’s everything going?" shouted a boy from a nearby stall.

"Great, Ulio. And you? Is your mother feeling better?" he replied with a smile.

Illiam greeted everyone with the same natural warmth. In the market, people respected and knew him, though he saw himself as just another young man from the village.

Meanwhile, inside the hunting shop, a local whispered to the shopkeeper:

"I heard there was another attack on the western front... they say it was devastating."

"That’s right. One of the merchants told me the city of Heinysem fell. Nearly thirty thousand people died..." the shopkeeper replied, filled with anguish and sorrow.

"Hmm... and fewer goods are arriving here. No iron, no grain, nothing," sighed the local.

"They’re sending everything to the army! Soon there won’t even be a single nail left!" grumbled the shopkeeper.

"May God save us..."

"Isn’t it a bit early for war gossip? You two never rest!" interrupted Illiam with a playful tone as he entered the shop and dropped a small bag of coins on the counter.

"Oh, young Kaedren!" the shopkeeper exclaimed, brightening up. "Going hunting again with your little sister?"

"That’s right. We’ve got to eat somehow!" Illiam replied enthusiastically.

"Well, Illiam, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you here," said the local curiously. "Tell me, how’s your older brother? There’s been a lot of talk about the front lately."

"The letters have been slow to arrive," Illiam replied with a shrug, "but knowing Kael, he’s probably arguing with some captain again, as always." He laughed.

"Young Kaelith is a formidable warrior! Anyone would fear facing his fury," the shopkeeper said proudly.

"Sure, sure… but you should’ve seen him when we were kids, falling into the water trying to catch a fish! Hahaha!" Illiam laughed, and they joined in.

"I know my brother’s fine. He’s the strongest person I know," he added with a proud smile.

After buying some arrows, Illiam left the shop with a word of thanks.

In the square, a little girl with skin white as snow waited for him, sitting on the edge of a fountain full of small golden fish. She swung her feet impatiently, making the water splash.

She was around nine years old, with long, well-kept hair, and wore a fine little dress that stood out against the worn-out surroundings.

"You took so, so, so long!" she complained adorably when she saw him.

"Hahaha! Calm down, Eira. I brought you an apple," Illiam replied, tossing it to her.

She caught it clumsily, nearly dropping it.

"Alright, ready? I’ve got everything we need."

"Of course! I was born ready!" Eira replied with a confident smile and shining eyes.

Later, a cold and silent forest spread at the foot of the massive green mountains. Pines swayed gently in the wind, letting small drops of dew fall. Through the mist, Illiam watched a deer grazing in the distance, his gaze fixed, body still.

"Alright… keep your breathing soft and draw the bow slowly," he whispered quietly.

Next to him, Eira held the bow with both hands. Her face showed a mix of innocence and determination.

"Okay," she replied, concentrating, closing one eye as she aimed.

"You only have one shot," Illiam said calmly. "Stay still, remember what I taught you... on my signal."

The silence of the forest was so deep they could hear their own heartbeats.

"Now... shoot."

The bowstring snapped with a whistle. The arrow flew—cutting through the air—and missed by just a few inches.

"Nooo!" Eira pouted.

"Damn... that was close," Illiam said with patience, smiling as the deer ran off.

"Don’t worry. You’ll get it next time. I missed plenty too."

"Even you missed?" she asked in a small, disappointed voice.

"That’s right. But a knight always gets up and keeps trying. That’s the only way to protect the people he loves," he said sincerely.

"Oooh!" Eira looked at him in awe. "Brother, will you be a knight one day too?"

"I will. When Kael returns, I’ll finish my training."

"Then when he comes back, I’ll become a lady knight too!" she said, raising her fist adorably.

Illiam laughed, and she joined in.

Their laughter faded among the trees... until silence fell over the forest.

Illiam stopped smiling. Something moved. A cold instinct ran down his spine. The air had changed.

"What’s wrong, brother?" Eira asked, lowering her bow.

"The deer..." Illiam murmured, looking around. "It didn’t run because of the arrow. Something else scared it."

Eira’s eyes widened, uneasy. Then—a sharp crack echoed from the bushes. Another. Closer.

Before Illiam could react, a black panther burst from the foliage, baring its fangs, eyes blazing with rage.

"EIRA!" he shouted, throwing himself over her.

The roar thundered through the forest. They rolled across the ground as the beast landed where they’d been seconds before.

Illiam got up fast, positioning himself between the creature and his sister.

The beast circled him, hissing, its sharp fangs gleaming.

"Illiam… I’m scared," Eira said, trembling.

"Don’t worry..." he whispered, eyes fixed on the animal. "I’ve got this."

The panther lunged. Illiam barely managed to grab his bow, jamming it into the beast’s open jaws. The wood cracked as it struggled, pushing him back with brute strength.

Illiam gritted his teeth, resisting. Its claws grazed his arm, tearing his sleeve.

"Ahhh!" Eira screamed, frozen.

"Eira, run!" Illiam ordered, backing away, but she stood paralyzed.

The panther slammed him against a tree, growling ferociously. Illiam dropped the bow, rolled aside, and grabbed a broken branch. He swung it like a sword, striking the beast’s side. It roared, turning toward him.

Another attack—faster this time.

Illiam raised his arm, the claws slicing through his skin, leaving a red line. Pain surged through him, but he didn’t back down.

"Illiam!" Eira cried, tears streaming.

The panther lunged again. Illiam ducked, grabbed a stone, and smashed it into its snout. The beast staggered, enraged.

Taking the chance, Illiam kicked it with all his strength. The impact echoed. The panther flew back, slammed against a tree, and fled into the underbrush with a pained roar.

Silence returned to the forest.

Panting, Illiam turned to Eira.

"It’s alright... it’s over," he said, opening his arms.

Eira ran to him, hugging tightly. He had small cuts and torn clothes, but he smiled.

"I was... I was so scared," she sobbed. "I thought you’d die and leave me alone."

"That won’t happen, little sister," Illiam said softly, stroking her hair. "Let’s go home."

As they walked back, the sun was setting behind the mountains, painting the sky in orange and pink hues. Illiam teased Eira, ruffling her hair as she pretended to be mad. From the road, they could see the harbor below—the sea reflecting the fiery dusk and, far away, a great fleet of ships cutting through the waters.

"Look, the ships!" Eira said excitedly, running toward the port. "Hey, don’t run!" Illiam called after her, smiling.

The sunset bathed the scene in melancholy beauty… yet under that calm, something unsettling lingered. Those ships were no ordinary vessels—they were colossal machines of steel, powered by smoke vents, giant gears, and boilers breathing steam. Their hulls were clad in metal plates and retractable cannons. On their decks, cranes and propellers roared against the wind. They were true dieselpunk monsters—majestic and terrifying—a shocking contrast to the quiet coastal village.

"They’re heading to the continent," said a fisherman, eyes fixed on the horizon. "Reinforcements for the war."

"They’ll probably come back empty," replied another grimly. "We’ve lost too many already."

Illiam and Eira listened silently. She, not fully understanding, tugged at his sleeve.

"Do you think Kael is on one of those ships?" she asked innocently.

"Haha... I don’t think so, little one. He’s much farther away—on the battlefield," Illiam replied, smiling faintly.

"Illiam..." Eira hesitated. "Will you go to war one day too?"

Illiam looked at her quietly. His eyes were warm, yet sad. "Maybe... when the time comes. But don’t worry about that. The war is far from us."

"Then don’t ever go," she said, squeezing his hand. He didn’t answer, only smiled as the sea breeze ruffled their hair.

The ships slowly vanished into the distance, swallowed by the horizon.

By evening, the siblings reached their home—a large manor surrounded by withered gardens and rusted fences that spoke of better days. Yet it retained a quiet beauty, a nostalgic charm. “The Kaedren House,” read the plaque at the gate. It stood tall with three stone floors and old windows reflecting the last light of day.

In front, a dark metal car waited silently, covered in valves, pipes, and amber lights that hissed steam. Beside it stood two men in long coats, their posture impeccable.

"Who are they, brother?" Eira asked, stopping.

"Army officers..." Illiam answered, his expression hardening.

"Go inside, Eira," he said firmly.

She nodded, lowering her head, and ran to the main door, where the butler and caretaker received her. Eira hugged the woman tightly, while the butler looked at Illiam with concern.

"Sir... they arrived a few hours ago. They’ve been waiting," he said nervously.

"Thank you, Markus. Don’t worry," Illiam replied calmly, approaching the men.

"Are you Mr. Illiam Kaedren?" asked one of the officers beside the car. His uniform was spotless, his shoulder insignia gleaming under the fading light. Next to him, a taller man with a flowing cape stepped forward.

"I am," Illiam said steadily. "How can I help you?"

The man met his gaze. His voice was deep, restrained… almost reverent.

"Mr. Kaedren," he said, the air growing heavy. "We came in person to inform you that..."

A brief, cold silence fell.

"Your brother, Sir Kaelith Kaedren, has died in battle."

The wind carried the echo of those words away.