Two years after the massacre at Redstone, the eighteen-year-old Viren was barely recognizable. The youthful warmth that had once been in his eyes was completely gone, replaced by a cold, emerald-ice glint. The vow he had made amidst the town's ruins had become the core of his being. He no longer trained to please his parents; he trained to surpass them.
Every day was a war against himself. He pushed his unit, the Kestrel Squadron, to the very limits of human endurance. They were no longer just soldiers; they were extensions of his will. His commands were sharp, his strategies flawless, and he never showed a moment's hesitation. The soldiers under him didn't love him in the traditional sense—they respected him with an absolute loyalty born from a competence and care he showed on the training grounds, not in the mess hall.
The opportunity to prove his superiority finally arrived. Intelligence reported a secret Glacian Empire supply depot near the frozen northern border. Destroying it would be a significant strategic victory. Viren presented his risky but brilliant plan before his parents.
"Prove to me that the lesson at Redstone was not in vain," was all his father said before giving his approval. For Viren, this was the final test.
The mission began perfectly. Viren and his Kestrel Squadron moved like ghosts through a blizzard. They arrived at the depot—a heavily guarded ice cave—exactly on schedule. Everything was going according to plan. Too perfectly.
As their technician began planting magical explosives in the main storage chamber, the entire cave suddenly lit up. An ancient protective seal activated, and alarms blared. It was a trap.
Heavy ice doors crashed down, trapping them inside as dozens of Glacian ice knights charged in. The fight for survival began. The Kestrel Squadron, whom Viren had trained for exactly this kind of situation, formed a tight defensive formation around him. They fought with breathtaking coordination.
But the enemy kept coming. One by one, the Kestrel soldiers began to fall.
"Commander! The explosives are set!" the technician shouted before an ice sword pierced his chest.
They were pushed to the back of the cave. Their escape route was cut off. Viren fought with the ferocity of a cornered hawk, refusing to give up. But as he saw his third soldier fall with empty eyes, something inside him cracked.
Was all of this for nothing? he thought, parrying a blow that nearly split his head open. All the training, all the sacrifice... to die in this ice hole? What have I done? Why is fate so cruel to me? Why?
The despair turned into a blind rage. A roar of frustration tore from his throat, no longer the roar of a commander, but of a wounded animal. He went berserk. He no longer parried or dodged. He just attacked, killed, and tore apart every enemy in his path. An ice sword grazed his arm; he didn't care. A spear scraped his ribs; he ignored it. He just kept moving forward, killing blindly, trading wounds for lives.
"Commander, calm down!" a strong hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him out of his murderous frenzy. Roric, his trusted lieutenant, stood before him, his face full of concern. "You'll get yourself killed like this!"
"I'm not leaving you!" Viren snapped, his eyes still wild.
"This isn't about leaving us anymore!" Roric retorted, his voice firm amidst the chaos of battle. He pointed to the blinking explosives. "The mission must succeed! Our victory is you living to report this success! That's the only thing that matters now!"
Viren looked into the eyes of his soldiers, one by one. He saw fear there, but also a burning resolve. They were pinning their hopes on him.
"We'll hold them here," Roric continued, a sad smile on his face. "We'll make sure not a single one of them gets out alive. Go, Viren. Don't let our sacrifice be in vain. That is our last request to you."
With hot tears finally streaming down his cheeks, Viren nodded. The Kestrel Squadron formed a final shield wall, sacrificing themselves to open a path for their commander towards a narrow crevice in the cave's ceiling. As Viren climbed out, he looked down one last time. He saw Roric and the rest of his loyal squad smiling at him, before they were overwhelmed by a wave of ice knights.
A few seconds later, the explosives detonated. The entire cave collapsed with a mountain-shaking roar.
When the search party found him, Viren was the sole survivor. The mission was a resounding success. But he had lost everything.
At first, he was hailed as a hero. But then, the whispers began. As he walked the palace corridors, he heard familiar voices from behind a door. The same maids who had poisoned his mind since childhood.
"...Lady Elara herself gave the order," one of them whispered. "Spread the rumor that Commander Viren deliberately sacrificed his unit to take all the glory..."
Viren's world shattered. It wasn't the enemy who had trapped him, but his own parents.
Viren's trial was a cruel joke. The families of his fallen soldiers, incited by the poisonous rumors, stood and demanded justice. Viren stood alone in the center of the room, not defending himself. What was the point?
The council of judges delivered a relatively light sentence. "A sentence of six months' confinement..."
"We object."
His father's voice cut through everything. General Kaelen stood up. "This punishment is too lenient. His failure... is a disgrace. We, as the heads of House Aerion, demand a fitting punishment. Permanent exile. Strip him of his noble status. Revoke his rights as heir. Banish him from the lands of Anemoria forever."
Viren lifted his head. He wasn't surprised. Not anymore. After hearing the maids' conversation, this felt like the next logical step. This was the final confirmation. He had failed in their eyes, and now they were throwing him away. The sharp pain had turned into a cold, frozen emptiness.
Laughter erupted from the nobles. The Broken Kestrel.
There was no proper farewell. He was stripped of his remaining honors in front of everyone and dragged out. As he passed his parents, he felt nothing anymore. Only emptiness.
The guards pushed him through the main city gate. The heavy iron door creaked shut behind him. Viren Aerion stood alone on a muddy road. The rain began to fall. He had nothing.
But in the midst of that emptiness, one thing was born. A black seed planted in Redstone had now grown into a thorny tree that filled his entire soul. Vengeance.
He would not die in exile. He would survive. He would become stronger. And one day, he would return. Not as Viren Aerion, but as the storm that would bring their entire hypocritical world crashing down.