Nothing remained of the White Empire but ashes clinging to the wind…
I was there, when the throne burned, and the nobles' blood mixed with the palace dust.
I was the last to survive the final war… or so I thought.
I am no hero, and I was never born into noble families.
I witnessed the fall of a world built on lies and false purity.
They said white was a symbol of innocence… but I saw how it turned into the color of hatred when hands were stained with blood.
In those days, the White Empire was ruled with an iron fist under a golden crown.
Emperor Arthur, the king born amidst the snows, ruled with a face whose name hid an eternal winter.
Beside him was Adam, the prime minister, the craftiest man in the palace.
Ali, his servant, loyal… or so he thought.
And Gri, Adam's shadow, who never knew if he was a servant or a beast bound by the strings of obedience.
And Safi… the imperial family's dog, who betrayed them all and became the greatest traitor among them.
Five faces from the same past, childhood friends torn apart by ambition.
And I… I watched them all.
In the final war, there was no victor.
The sky was gray, and the white snow mixed with blood until everything seemed dull.
That day, I realized that nothing remained of that empire except the truth they tried to hide…
And I would be the one to tell it.
Childhood was a fleeting illusion in the White Empire.
We were five, playing between the walls of the white palace, our laughter filling the corridors as if we would never part.
But time revealed the true face of the world we grew up in.
Safi, the imperial family's dog, was not just an animal. He was my friend and theirs too, a witness to everything, yet not free.
Even he, despite his apparent loyalty, suffered, bound and forced to carry out orders his heart could not comprehend. He saw injustice pass before him and could not stop it…
Ali and Gri, the two young servants who shared our childhood, were whipped mercilessly and subjected to cruel commands beyond their endurance.
Each day was a lesson in pain, in obedience, in losing childhood before its time.
I could not understand then why fate divided us. We had the same blood, the same hearts, the same laughter… yet destiny placed us on different tiers.
Still, amid this suffering, the bond of our childhood remained, fragile but present, connecting us all, defying the darkness that sought to consume us.
Those early days taught me that power lies not in age or size, but in the ability to endure and watch everything, even when your heart is full of sorrow and anger.
I knew that the time would come when injustice would ignite… and I would be there to tell the truth…
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