Written by Aelyzabeth von Thors.
When the years of youth gave way to the age of twelve,the boy Zyon Cornelius Thorsius shed the shadowed name of the palace halls,and was reborn beneath the golden banners of Romulius—not as a mere child of sin,but as a Knight Apprentice under the royal command of King Sillius Magnus Augustus II,his sovereign, his father, and the hand that would temper his destiny in flame and trial.
Beneath the sigil of the golden lion of Romulius,Zyon learned the art of steel from generals whose lifetimes spanned centuries.He first grasped a sword at dawn, when the mists still veiled the training fields,and when the sun fell beyond the western mountains,his hands remained bloodied with labor and the calluses of perseverance.The clash of steel became the hymn of his purpose—a song that sang only of endurance, will, and fate.
Soon, his brilliance could no longer be hidden.In the great war between the Empire of Romulius and the realm of Heraclius—that proud dominion of the northeast—Zyon, the boy of twelve born from shadow, rode beside the King himself.The drums of war thundered like the heart of the earth,and the sky was shrouded in the smoke of burning cities.
Amidst the chaos of battle, Zyon did not cower behind another's shield.He unsheathed his blade and charged into the front lines,leading young knights through the breach in Heraclius's stone wallwith daring and precision beyond his years.When the armies of Romulius faltered under a flanking assault,Zyon conceived a stratagem no commander had foreseen—to turn the sun itself into his ally.He ordered the soldiers to angle their golden shields,and the reflected blaze blinded the enemy ranks.Then, with a single command, he drove his company forward,and the tide of war turned.
That day was forever inscribed in the royal annals:"The boy in silver armor who brought the dawn to the King."When King Sillius beheld the youth, his face streaked with sweat and blood,he saw not frailty, but the stillness of wisdom,and in those emerald eyes glimmered something divine—a light not born of mortals, but of the heavens themselves.
When peace returned, the King's heart found no rest.Whispers haunted the marble corridors:that the elder prince, heir by law,was no true son of Sillius,but born of the Queen and her secret paramour.Thus, to preserve the sanctity of the throne,the King declared Zyon—at the tender age of twelve—a Knight of the King's Own.The title was but ceremonial to others,yet its meaning was far weightier:an unspoken acknowledgment of blood and right.
One year passed.At thirteen, Zyon's name was bound by royal decree:"Zyon Cornelius Thorsius shall stand as rightful heirshould the House of Romulius lack a legitimate successor."
The proclamation fell like thunder in the Great Hall.Nobles who swore fealty to the Queen trembled in silence.The elder prince, five years Zyon's senior,now looked upon him not as a brother, but as a curse—envy giving birth to fear, and fear to wrath.
In the cold of winter, beneath a sky heavy with falling snow,the prophecy of betrayal came to pass.Assassins garbed in black crept into Zyon's chamber as the moon hid behind the clouds.Their blades flashed in the darkness—and the steel of treachery found his heart.Crimson blood spilled across the white sheets,and the silence that followed was deeper than death.
Yet fate would not claim him.By sheer will—by the fire that burned within his mortal flesh—Zyon rose.He tore the dagger from his chestand drove it into the throat of his assailant with unerring precision.His emerald eyes did not waver,and for a moment, he seemed no longer human,but an incarnation of the god of war himself.
At dawn, the guards found him slumped against the frozen wall,his body drenched in blood, yet his breath unbroken.When the King beheld him, tears fell upon the boy's still hand.And before the entire court, Sillius Magnus Augustus II declared:
"This child is not merely my son—he is the living will of Romulius itself."
From that day forth, the name Zyon Cornelius Thorsiuswas written into the eternal chronicles as The Knight of the Dawning Sun—the one who walked through death and was reborn in flame.And thus began the legend of the prince who defied destiny itself.
"He who was slain yet lives—is he whom Heaven refuses to let perish."— The Chronicles of the Romulian Wars, Vol. XIV.
Thus ends Chapter B-II.