The Night Vigo was born, the sky above the Zakar Palace was not gentle. it was a violent, trembling ash gray - the color of an omen and fear.
High above the towering palace, the stars were shining at the brightest — but one particular star shone the brightest then started to flicker like a dying flame. Not once in recorded history had it trembled. But tonight, it shook as though something monstrous had touched it.
And deep inside the birthing chamber, Queen screamed.
Her voice echoed through the marble halls, Handmaidens rushed about with hot towels, bowls of water, herbs, anything to ease her pain. But nothing eased it. The queen's bones felt as if they were splitting from the inside, her vision blurring into whirls of red and violet.
The palace healers surrounded her.
"Your Majesty, hold on-"
"Breathe-"
"Push-push now!"
Queen Nana was having hard time because of her pain.
The queen pushed one last time, a cry that tore her throat raw.
Then- silence.
fragile cryy broke the air.
A newborn boy, wrapped in dark-violet light, opened his eyes.
Outside, priests screamed, "A star is dying, A star is dying!"
But the queen only started at the baby.
He was warm. His skin glowed and on his tiny chest shimmered a Dark Crest.
Everyone were in shock as their kingdom never had seen this Crest before.
"A child of the sun...."the Queen Maria whispered, trembling. "Or a curse born of the Shadow?"
The baby opened his eyes.
Ringed like swirling black-tiny eclipses, turning slowly. The Queen breath hitched.
Then- The tower windows shattered with a loud thunder.
A bow of pure black and gold flickered into existence above the baby, suspended in air. It was not solid-just a glowing outline, like a future waiting to be chosen. A single arrow spiraled into shaped.
The moment he touched it. It vanished and reappeared as a symbol on boy forearm as bow and arrow.
"He summoned a weapon?"
One priest fainted.
The King Arrives in the chamber with a sad face after hearing about the dark crest.
He glanced at the baby and asked, "Why does he carry Dark Crest. Only light and sun crest are ever born in our kingdom?
No. "We must not let anyone know about this, We must get rid of this child."
King: "Guards kill the housemaidens and all priest in the chamber. No one Should escape."
He turned to the queen, with a cold look he said.
"and you my queen, before dawn.... remove this baby from my kingdom. If I see him after that, I will personally end his life. This is the only mercy I can grant you. My orders are absolute—this child will bring Bad Omen upon us."
The queen clutched the baby tighter, trembling with fear.
And so, before dawn, she placed her newborn inside a metal-lined cradle and carried him up the mountain peak. Her tears vanished into the cold wind.
"Forgive me, my son."
She began to chant a spell, summoning an Eagle spirit With a shaking voice, she commanded it to carry her child to another kingdom—somewhere safe.
The eagle spirit bowed to her will, lifted the cradle, and soared into the sky with the baby.
On the other side of the kingdom, a humble blacksmith named Joran and his wife Lyra were delivering swords to the nobles. As they walked, a massive cradle suddenly dropped from the sky and crashed onto Joran's head.
Joran: "OUCH!! What was that?!"
Lyra burst into laughter.
Lyra: "Hahaha! Guess you needed that smack for your thick, stubborn skull, you monkey!"
Their laughter faded as they looked down to see what had fallen.
Lyra: "Hey… Joran, look! A baby…"
Joran: "How did a baby fall from the sky?!"
Lyra: "Who throws a baby like that? Wait he has a Dark Crest. Does he belong to the Tilas Kingdom?"
Joran: "Who cares about kingdoms right now? First, we need to decide what to do with this baby, Is he still alive!"
Lyra: "Of course, Can't u see.. Let's adopt him. It's a miracle he survived that fall. Whoever threw him wanted him dead… Let's give him another chance, dear."
Joran stared at his hands the same hands that had forged countless weapons.
Joran: "You're right. These hands have created tools that take lives… but now, for once, I can save one. Maybe this is fate. Let's accept him."
Joran lifted the baby carefully from the shattered cradle, brushing away shards of metal and dust. The child blinked up at him calm, almost curious as if falling from the sky was nothing more than an afternoon nap.
Lyra touched the tiny Dark Crest glowing on the boy's chest.
Lyra: "He's special… cursed or blessed, I don't know. But he survived the heavens dropping him on your head, so that must mean something."
Joran scowled.
Joran: "Are you saying the gods aimed at me on purpose?"
Lyra smirked.
Lyra: "With your attitude? Maybe."
Lyra smiled wide.
Lyra: "Then let's give him a strong name. A name that suits him."
Joran thought for a moment, then declared:
Joran: "He got a big Vigor surviving all that, So lets name him Vigo"
Lyra: "As you wish my Dear."