When Isfrid was five, he made his first venture out of his room and into the library. He had to ask maids and butlers along the way, but eventually, he arrived at his destination.
He had overheard conversations from his family about the library, and with Eliza confirming their words, he was more excited than ever.
This magical room filled with endless knowledge became a dream for Isfrid. However, after finally reaching it, all he gained was confusion.
He'd never seen a book before, but after learning to write his own name, he knew they held words — he just didn't understand them.
'If others can learn things from these, then if I just keep trying, eventually I will too,' he thought. With that, he decided to visit the library every day before his family woke up.
After going there every morning for an entire year, he still understood nothing. But at last, after watching the boy struggle for so long, the librarian took it upon himself to help.
The librarian was an elderly man with long white hair and deep wrinkles on his face. He wore glasses that rested gently on the bridge of his nose and always had his brows scrunched, as if the world itself annoyed him.
Although not kind, he was one of the few to acknowledge Isfrid's existence — and even that had not come easily. After about a year of the boy's quiet persistence, the librarian finally spoke to him.
The reason he broke his silence was simple: the boy was peculiar. Isfrid would walk in every day at the same time, early in the morning, with complete indifference — as if he knew he'd be ignored but couldn't care less.
The librarian would often glance to see what the boy was reading, only to stifle a laugh. He would find Isfrid holding a random book — sometimes upside down — staring at the pages like he was deciphering the world's greatest mystery.
The librarian's name was Corvin Pell. His family had served the Vaelors for as long as their records existed. He understood the patriarch's decision to neglect the boy, given the rumors that spread through the house.
Most believed Isfrid was the result of the mistress's infidelity. In that situation, simply housing the boy was considered mercy. But Corvin thought it too cruel to leave the curious child uneducated.
After deciding to teach Isfrid the basics, he realized the boy learned at a frightening pace. Isfrid mastered reading and writing in a matter of months — and only a few months later, he could read books that adults struggled with.
By the time he was, it felt as though he had already read half the books in the library. Isfrid had made tremendous strides in understanding both the world and the house he was born into.
The kingdom he was born lay within the human lands. There were three major kingdoms in total: Eldara, Valenhold, and Caelthar. Valenhold was known as the Bastion of the North, Caelthar as the Land of Sun and Sea, and Eldara — the force that ruled them both.
Eldara stood above the rest in technological advancement and military might. Its people were ambitious, its armies vast, and its noble houses powerful beyond measure. Among them were four ducal houses — including House Vaelor.
But as Isfrid continued to read, he learned that humans were far from the only race in the world.
The oldest books spoke of five primary races that shared the world of Orenfall — Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Demons, and Dragons.
Each race had its own land,customs, and its own strength.
The Elves lived deep within a vast, unending forest known as the Sylvan Veil. At its heart stood the legendary World Tree, said to be as old as time itself. The elves were beings in harmony with nature and the elements, blessed with long lives and a deep connection to magic. To them, fire, wind, water, and earth were not mere tools but living spirits to be respected and spoken with.
Separating the humans and the elves was an immense mountain range known as the Azhgar Peaks, home of the Dwarves — short, broad, and unyielding. Their lands were carved into the mountains themselves, illuminated by molten rivers of ore and the rhythmic sound of hammers striking anvils. They were the world's greatest craftsmen, creators of weapons, armor, and architecture that no human hand could ever replicate.
Beyond those peaks lay the heart of the human continent — countless kingdoms and empires, the largest being Eldara. Humanity's greatest strength was not its magic or its craftsmanship, but its numbers. Though few humans were born with exceptional gifts, their sheer population ensured that among their multitudes, prodigies were never in short supply.
Far to the west, across a lifeless ocean of black waters, was a place the records called the Duskwaste Continent — the land of Demons. It was a world stripped bare by its own inhabitants. The books said their greed and endless wars had drained the life from their soil until only ash and ruin remained.
The demons were creatures of strength and instinct, born for battle and sharpened by it. Mercy and empathy were seen as weaknesses among them, while anger, pride, and greed were their only virtues.
And finally — the Dragons.
They were the most mysterious of all. Few records spoke of them, and those that did were rarely consistent.
Some claimed they were gods; others, monsters. Some said they had vanished long ago, leaving behind only faint traces of their power within the bloodlines of men.
The Vaelors were among those who made such a claim.
They called themselves descendants of dragons, born of fire and flame. Their red hair and eyes were said to be proof of that divine lineage — a lineage that Isfrid, with his pale skin and icy gaze, did not share.
After learning his family's reason for neglecting him all his life, Isfrid felt no anger, no sadness — only ice-cold indifference.
At first, he had thought there was something wrong with him — something he could fix to be accepted.
But when he learned they despised him for something he couldn't change, something he was born with, he stopped caring altogether.
He no longer sought their approval or their understanding. The only person who had ever shown him kindness was Eliza — and for him, that was enough.
With that final thought, Isfrid closed the book in his hands and gazed toward the shelves. It was time he began learning about magic.