"Father, you called?"
The voice belonged to Robert Linton Lionheart, the third prince of the Lionheart Kingdom. At just ten years old, he carried the weight of being the crown prince, thrust into the role after both the first and second princes chose to follow their own paths. He was energetic, almost hyper, with striking golden hair that caught the light of the palace windows and piercing blue eyes that seemed to carry both curiosity and mischief in equal measure.
King Richard's stern expression softened at the sight of his son. There was pride in the lines of his face. Unlike his other children, Robert displayed a sense of responsibility beyond his years. "Son," Richard began, his voice calm but laced with authority, "in a few days, we will attend Count Astley's estate. The youngest daughter of House Astley will be having her Awakening ceremony. You are to meet her and make her acquaintance."
Robert's eyes narrowed, a playful frown forming on his small face. "Father… is this one of those arranged marriage meetings? Because if it is, I don't want to marry some brat."
Richard exhaled through his nose with a sound halfway between exasperation and disbelief. "No, it is not, at least not yet. The purpose is to observe… and to meet her. What I have heard is extraordinary. The little girl can already wield magic."
Robert blinked, momentarily impressed, then shrugged nonchalantly. "Father, being able to use magic before awakening is rare but not unheard of. My first brother could do the same, if you remember."
Richard's blue eyes flashed with restrained anger. "Do not speak of that unfilial brat. He has caused nothing but trouble."
Robert sighed, flopping into a chair with a dramatic slump. "Fine, father. I will obey. But let me make one thing perfectly clear: I will not marry this little brat. That is final."
Richard's lips curved in a faint smile. "I understand, my son. I do not intend to force you into anything against your will. That is why I trust you to act responsibly."
"Tell my sister the news as well. She will accompany us." Richard added, his tone measured.
"Understood," Robert replied, standing at attention, trying to mask his excitement with dignity.
In the capital city of Luminous, another seat of power watched the unfolding events: the main branch of the Church of Light. Revered across the Southern Continent—known to its inhabitants as the Continent of Light—the Church of Light was a bastion of healing, faith, and political influence. Its authority stretched even beyond the continent, producing most of the world's renowned healers.
Cardinal Jorge, head of the main branch, sat in a high-backed chair carved from pale oak. His long white hair and beard framed a face marked by both age and serenity. He read the latest reports regarding the affairs of Astley County, nodding slowly. "So, the girl can wield magic before even reaching the age of five," he murmured. "No doubt about it… she is a genius."
An assistant bowed respectfully beside him. "Yes, Your Eminence. What is most astonishing is her ability to wield healing magic at such an age. Her control over Light Magic is remarkable, and her kindness toward the masses indicates a character truly worth nurturing. She is a prime candidate for a future Saint."
Jorge's gaze hardened slightly. "Indeed. Send a bishop to oversee her awakening ceremony. Do not coerce her in any way; observe only. Word of this event will reach the King of Lionheart, and we must respect the Astleys' wishes. Any forceful intervention would be unwise."
"Understood, Your Eminence. I will follow the proper protocol."
Far from the Lionheart Kingdom, in the Duchy of Ross of the Emerald Empire, political tensions stirred. Duke Ross, the current head of the duchy, read a secret letter with a furrowed brow. The letter, delivered by a spy from Astley County, contained sensitive information: the youngest daughter of Count Astley possessed extraordinary magical talent.
The Duchy of Ross and Astley County were long-time rivals, separated only by the vast Great Beast Forest. Competition over maritime commerce often escalated into minor conflicts, but Count Astley's reputation as a Level Eight Water Mage gave him an unassailable advantage in these disputes. Now, with his daughter showing prodigious talent, the potential for Ross to gain leverage shrank to near zero.
"Call Jerry," the Duke barked to his butler.
"Yes, your grace," the servant replied, hurrying to obey.
After two hours, Jerry, the Duke's son, finally stumbled into the room, his movements unsteady and his words slurred from drink. "Father… what now? You ruined my playtime," he mumbled.
"Shut up and stand properly!" the Duke thundered. He had little patience for his son's frivolities. Spoiled by his mother, Jerry had grown lazy and irresponsible, the only male heir in a family of daughters.
Jerry's golden eyes lit up at the mention of Count Astley's daughter. "Father… really? Then I will attend! I heard the Count's wife is beautiful, so his daughter must be as well. I shall make my appearance and impress her!"
The Duke restrained a sigh. Of course, Jerry was thinking of appearances and marriage prospects—just as he, the Duke, would in a political sense. Count Astley would understand the benefits of a union between his daughter and the heir of Ross: protection, influence, and perhaps even a formidable mage as a future ally. This could move the Duchy one step closer to becoming a Grand Duchy.
Meanwhile, across the vast seas on the Dark Continent, a land as far removed from the Lionheart Kingdom as light is from shadow, discussions of Astley's young daughter stirred dread. The Dark Continent was not merely unlit—it was a wound upon the world. The sky was a bruise-purple twilight, the air thick with brimstone and decay. Twisted, breathing land stretched for miles, and a ceaseless, corrosive rain fell from phosphorescent clouds. The inhabitants were creatures of malevolent cunning, ancient and cruel, their intelligence matched only by their hatred of light and order.
In a shadowed chamber, a group of rough, demonic figures convened. Their voices were low and harsh, rasping against the darkness. "What do you think?" one asked.
"What is there to think?" another growled. "We cannot allow her to exist."
"Right," said a third, its jagged teeth catching faint light. "Genius or not, a wielder of light must be extinguished before she grows stronger. She will be a constant threat."
"If she reaches maturity," the first spoke again, "she will bring endless trouble to our kind."
They nodded in unison, a sinister rhythm. "When shall we act?"
"Her birthday," another hissed. "Both a celebration and a reckoning. Watching them despair while honoring their child… exquisite."
"Prepare the hounds," the first commanded, voice dripping with malice. "They are perfect for this task."
A chorus of approval followed. "Let darkness embrace the world."
The group's final words echoed like a curse, carrying over the jagged hills and ash-strewn valleys of the Dark Continent: "May darkness embrace the world."
Discussions, plans, and intrigues unfolded simultaneously across the world—noble courts in the Lionheart Kingdom, the far-reaching influence of the Church of Light, rival dukes plotting in secret, and even the ancient, malevolent denizens of the Dark Continent. The youngest daughter of Count Astley had unknowingly become a pivot of global attention, her abilities casting ripples far beyond her small, bustling county.
Yet amidst all this, the child herself remained blissfully unaware of the storm swirling around her. Saphy Rosabelle Astley, radiant and kind-hearted, continued her journey of discovery, her steps guided by curiosity and compassion. Her magic, her intellect, and her extraordinary heart were already reshaping the world's perception of power and justice.
And though shadows and schemes threatened her from every direction, there was a force stronger than any plot, any envy, any darkness—her innate plot armor, the unwavering luck of her story. What fate had in store remained to be seen, but one truth was undeniable: Saphy, even at the tender age of five, was no ordinary child. She was a spark of light, a prodigy, and perhaps the most dangerous catalyst the world had yet witnessed.