That night brought great joy to the kingdom, for the queen of Vermorynth had given birth to a daughter.
The following year, on that very same day, a son was born into the house of the Throne Sentinels' captain. Upon his chest, a faint sigil in the shape of a sword appeared—an omen whispered of in hushed tones—though it faded soon after. The Sentinels, the king's highest order of knights, had gained an heir.
When the boy turned five, he was formally appointed as a page in training—a future knight to serve the princess. From then on, Altheron spent his mornings in drills and studies, but the rest of the day was often stolen away by the young princess. Their laughter echoed through the palace halls, a sound the maids and guards came to know well.
Eleven years passed.
The two children had grown inseparable within the palace walls, darting through marble corridors like shadows of light.
"Come faster, Althy!" the princess called, her silver voice ringing with joy.
"I'm coming, Lady Emi!" the boy panted, struggling to keep up.
She puffed her cheeks in mock annoyance, glancing back at him with wide eyes that only made her look cuter.
"How many times must I tell you? Just Emi!"
"All right… just Emi," he muttered, cheeks warming.
With a mischievous grin, she tugged him by the hand and led him into her chambers.
"Now close your eyes, Althy."
He obeyed. Soft fingers brushed against his neck; something cool rested against his skin.
"You can open them."
He blinked. A small pendant now hung around his neck, catching the light.
"Happy birthday, Althy," she said softly. "I saw how hard you train every day. You always try so hard to be strong… so I wanted you to have this. It will give you strength. And maybe… protect you, too."
Her words were innocent, but the way her fingers lingered spoke of something she herself did not yet understand.
His eyes widened. "But… it's your birthday too." He fumbled inside his pocket, pulling out a tiny bundle wrapped in cloth. His hands trembled as he offered it to her. "I-I thought… m-maybe you'd like this."
Unfolding the cloth, she found delicate butterfly-shaped hair clips. His words came out barely louder than a whisper.
Her eyes softened as she slipped them into her hair, twirling once to show him. "Thank you, Althy." Then her voice lowered, almost shy. "But… can you also make a promise with me?"
Altheron straightened, puffing his chest as he had seen the knights do. He placed a hand over his heart.
"By my name… Altheron von Kaelmourn… I swear it."
He stumbled over the long syllables, but his gaze was steady, as though he believed his words bound him in oath.
Emi giggled, stepping closer until her eyes sparkled right before his.
"Then promise me this… promise me you'll always be my gallant knight."
Before he could answer, a firm voice boomed from the courtyard below.
"Altheron!"
It was his father, Captain Kaelmourn, his tone sharp with command. Training awaited.
The boy hesitated, looking back at Emi, reluctant to leave. She only smiled, waving him off.
"Go. I'll be waiting… Sir Knight."
Clutching the pendant against his chest, Altheron ran toward the voice
At the edge of the courtyard, his father stood tall in his armor, arms crossed, his gaze sharp as steel.
"You're late."
Altheron straightened at once, bowing his head. "Forgive me, Father."
Captain Kaelmourn's eyes softened for only a fraction of a second before hardening again.
"Today's training will be different." He placed a gauntleted hand on Altheron's shoulder. "You've learned sword forms, discipline, endurance… but now, it's time you face something real."
The boy's breath caught. "Real?"
His father nodded toward the horizon, where dark mountains loomed like teeth biting into the sky.
"We march for one of the Seven Great Dungeons. Consider this your first true trial as a knight in training."
Altheron's heart hammered. The dungeons were whispered of in stories—labyrinths where ancient beasts and lost magic slept. No page, no boy his age, had ever stepped foot inside.
He swallowed hard, clutching the pendant Emi had given him. A dungeon… The word tasted equal parts fear and excitement.
His father's voice rumbled like iron striking stone.
"Do not mistake today's trial for glory, Altheron. This is but the first step. The dungeon we enter is the weakest of the seven… compared to the others, it is nothing more than a shadow."
Altheron blinked, curiosity sparking through his nerves.
"The others?"
"Six remain," his father said, his tone carrying weight. "The Dungeon of Fire, where the ground itself burns. The Dungeon of Wind, where no man can stand. The Forest, the Soul, the Death, and the last…" His eyes narrowed, as though recalling a memory too heavy to share. "The Dungeon of Time. Each one deeper, darker, and more merciless than the last."
The boy's heart pounded faster with each name. They sounded less like places and more like living nightmares. Yet his father's final words gave him no room for pride.
"Remember this—today, we enter only the first floor. Of ten."
The scene shifted in an instant. The warmth of the palace faded into a chill dampness, the air thick with the smell of moss and stone. Water dripped from the jagged ceiling, each drop echoing like a clock counting down. Shadows stretched along the rough cavern walls, swallowing every flicker of torchlight.
Altheron's boots scraped against the uneven ground as he tightened his grip on the sword. His heart hammered against his ribs, louder than the sound of water.
Then he heard them. Low grunts. Snapping teeth. The shuffle of bare feet against stone.
From the darkness ahead, five goblins emerged, their twisted faces illuminated by the faint glow of fungus clinging to the walls. Rusted daggers and crude clubs hung in their hands, and their beady eyes fixed on him with hunger.
Altheron swallowed hard, clutching the pendant against his chest. This was no practice dummy. No drill.
This was real.
The first goblin snarled, raising its jagged blade.
Altheron lifted his sword, his knuckles white.
His father's words echoed in his mind. "You will fight them alone."
The goblins charged.