The Kingdom of Verbon had always been a land of contradictions.
Its golden towers stood proudly against the horizon, its banners flew overcrowded markets, and its king was praised as a wise and merciful ruler. To the common people, the King was everything a ruler was supposed to be.
A protector
A father
A symbol of peace
But beneath the polished crown and royal robes lived another man. A man whose name was spoken only in whispers. Onyx the Blooded.
In the shadows beneath Verbon's streets, merchants disappeared, rival gangs were found broken, and those who betrayed the wrong people were never heard from again. Onyx controlled the criminal underworld with the same authority he used to rule his kingdom. And almost no one knew that these two men are one and the same.
Almost no one.
Far beyond the palace walls, in a small settlement hidden among the forest of Verbon, a young Orc woman held a newborn child against her chest. As the rain hammered against the wooden roof above her. She looked down at the child in her arms.
he was unlike any Orc she had ever seen; his skin carried the dark brown skin tone and deep green-gray markings that are the tone of his mother's people, but his features were different. His eyes are a bright emerald green, and there was something unsettlingly calm about him.
The woman smiled despite her exhaustion
" Fennor," she whispered.
The name had been chosen long before he was born. A name that meant " one who endures"
outside the hut, footsteps approached. upon hearing the footsteps, the woman's smile suddenly dropped because she knew those footsteps. and as the footsteps finally reached the door the door open revealing a tall figure entered, dressed in a dark cloak that concealed most of his face. Two-armed guards followed behind him, but neither spoke.
The woman lowered her eyes. " My King," she said as the man removed his hood and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the rain hitting the roof of the hut.
tap
tap
tap
tap
He looked at the child not with the warmth of a father. Not yet instead, there was calculation in his eyes. just then the child opens his eyes that action made the king freeze " those eyes, those are my eyes." the King thought to himself as a faint smile crossed his face.
" So," he murmured in a deep and calculating tone. " My son."
Hearing those words the woman tightened her arms around Fennor.
''You promised he would be safe." The Orc woman said in her rough yet smooth voice.
At hearing her words, the king looked towards her.
" He will be"
" You said he would never be treated like a slave."
" And he won't"
"Then take him away from here."
The King then stepped closer, the woman expected him to take the child but instead, her reached out and gently placed one finger against Fennor's tiny hand. The infant grabbed it with a surprising amount of strength for an infant and for the first time that night, something genuine appeared in the King's expression.
Pride
But beneath that pride was something darker.
Possibility.
The King slowly withdrew his hand.
" He will grow strong," he said
this made the woman frown " he is but a child."
" For now," the King said as he turned towards the door and before leaving, he looked over his shoulder and says, " Keep him alive Lilith" and with those words the King and his two guards disappear into the rain.
Lilith stared after him, she let out a wary sigh because she already knows what those words meant. Fennor wasn't being given a childhood. He was being given a future.
And in the kingdom of Verbon, the sons of powerful men were rarely allowed to choose what kind of men they would become. Years later, people would come to know Fennor by many names.
Some would call him a monster.
Others would call him a criminal.
A few would call him a hero.
But none of them knew the truth.
Fennor wasn't trying to become good.
He was trying to become better than the man who created him.