As far as the eye could see, an endless desert stretched into the horizon.
In the middle of the sea of dunes, where the sand danced with the wind, a great city could be seen from afar.
Buildings made of adobe bricks and clay were home to hundreds of thousands of citizens.
A palace stood above everything else, marking its sovereignty.
Walking through its imposing corridors, a boy advanced with determined steps and ordered the enormous doors at the end of the hall to be opened.
On the other side, the main chamber was revealed.
Soldiers positioned themselves in two long rows on both sides. There were hundreds on each side.
When the boy crossed the path between them, every single one, without exception, knelt.
He looked young, but at that moment he was a soldier like all of them. The light armor he wore proved it.
At the end of that ceremony, a man in majestic robes awaited him. At his side, a dignified but downcast woman kept her gaze lowered.
A little further back, a young woman dressed the same way as her peers looked at him with concern, her lips pressed tight.
When he reached the man, the latter embraced him—something improper—but in that situation, no one seemed to care.
After the greeting, the boy knelt, giving way to the man's words.
"Zerat, my son, as emperor and as your father, you are my pride."
The echo of his voice traveled through the entire hall.
His gaze was serious.
"The threat that invades us has destroyed a great part of our army, forcing us to hold our ground within these walls."
His gestures were more for the rest of those present than for Zerat.
"Therefore, I order you to go to the battlefield. You are the salvation of the Empire."
Zerat listened to the orders while resting on one knee. From the corner of his eye, he looked at the soldiers present.
There were emotions he had always seen.
Respect.
Adoration.
Fear.
But this time he noticed something more.
Hope.
Then he raised his gaze toward his father.
He had also felt that sometimes this powerful man feared him, though he had never shown it directly.
Instead, he had taken him away from the battlefields and made him study in the palace under the excuse that he needed to become more cultured.
And now that there were no options left…
He would use him again as a weapon.
But he did not protest for a single moment. He was fine with it. He had the power to do it.
When the emperor finished, Zerat stood up and continued toward the exit of that imposing place.
He barely gave a glance to the empress. He had nothing to speak about with her.
But a hand grabbed his arm.
"Zerat."
"Sister..."
The worry in her eyes softened his cold expression.
"Please," she whispered, "come back alive. Do not lose yourself in vengeance."
He did not know what to say.
If anyone had ever looked at him as more than just a weapon or a prince, it had been her and his brother.
But now only she remained.
That was why he had to play his role.
"I will return. I promise."
It was the responsibility of someone strong.
Otherwise, what was this power and lineage for?
That was the conclusion he had reached at twelve years old.
Stepping out into the palace's main courtyard, Zerat searched for the correct direction. A nearby guard pointed it out.
With his objective clear, the boy closed his eyes.
Everyone moved away to a prudent distance. They knew what was about to happen.
His concentration reached its peak. He gathered a small portion of his energy and activated his blessing.
The moment he opened his eyes, a gust of wind exploded beneath the prince, lifting him several meters into the air. But it did not end there. He did it again and again until he reached a considerable height.
Immediately, he moved his hands. Energy roared around his body and beyond it. A current made of pure power allowed him to glide for a long time.
The people of the city shouted his name as they saw him pass like a bird. To them, Zerat was not human. He was a symbol of might, almost like a god.
Using his ability, he traveled until the kingdom was barely visible in the distance.
He landed on a large rock rising from the sea of sand.
Focusing his sight, he located the black dot slowly approaching.
That was his objective.
Stretching out his hands, even greater energy flowed in and out of his body, covering more and more ground. This time he did not close his eyes. They were wide open, staring at the distant point.
After some time, the identity of that stain was revealed: a large group of soldiers dressed in brown armor.
An army advancing at a steady pace.
They were the enemies seeking to deliver the final blow to his father and take control of the Empire.
But that prince would not allow that to happen.
The wind stirred throughout the entire area. Kilometers were affected. Slowly, its speed increased, along with its force.
The soldiers raised their heads upon noticing the strange behavior of the wind. Some with deeper knowledge understood that this phenomenon was not natural.
But it was already too late.
Pushing his limits, Zerat gathered the energy of several kilometers into only two points.
Massive tornadoes appeared on each side of the enemy. They were enormous and did not stop growing as they closed in on the opposing army.
Thousands of soldiers ran in terror. Some were dragged toward those beasts while the rest tried to reach safer ground.
Watching the situation, Zerat slowly began bringing his hands together.
When his palms met, the tornadoes did the same.
A mega-tornado formed in the middle of the shattered army.
Soldiers were thrown from one side to another, certain death for most of them.
When he noticed that all the survivors had reached safe areas from that disaster, Zerat explosively separated his hands. In the same way, the tornado dissolved, transforming into a sandstorm that obscured visibility for several kilometers.
This time, he personally joined the assault.
He jumped toward a large group and, with a simple movement, an extremely powerful gust swept them away.
He repeated the action several times until all the large groups were gone.
In just a little over three hours, an army of tens of thousands of men had been almost entirely annihilated.
Sitting once again on the same rock as before, Zerat looked at the destruction he had caused.
He was not satisfied.
Searching with his senses, he looked for his objective.
Where did he go?
Just as he was about to relax control over his ability—
A voice came from behind him.
"Well now, that was quite the spectacle."
Zerat attacked on instinct.
Without even turning around, a gust struck the entire rock.
From his new position, Zerat looked back.
He had not sensed anyone behind him, even while analyzing almost the entire area with his divine energy.
"HAHAHA, you really are temperamental."
Emerging as if nothing had happened from the lingering gusts, a man brushed the sand off his clothes. He wore an amused smile as he slowly walked toward Zerat.
He was dressed in armor similar to the other enemy soldiers, but with certain golden finishes and accessories of the same material.
His features were ordinary—tan skin and black hair. There was nothing particularly notable about him besides his attitude.
"You must be the one they call the Prince of the Wind, right? I don't believe much in rumors, but it seems this one is true. How interesting."
The man kept talking, completely ignoring the incredible amount of energy gathering and flowing out of Zerat.
He was relaxed.
Walking out unscathed after an attack of that magnitude was not something Zerat had seen before.
But none of that mattered.
"So you're the damned bastard!"
The man tilted his head in confusion and pointed at himself while still smiling mischievously.
"Me?"
Zerat's eyes were fierce as he faced him.
"Did you think I wouldn't recognize the person who killed my brother?"
He matched the description all the witnesses had given. With his abilities, the prince was certain.
Placing a hand on his chin as if thinking, the man snapped his fingers after a moment.
"Was your brother that weakling I killed on the Kelix Plains?"
With those few words, the air in the surrounding meters moved as one. The sand stirred like rain in a storm.
The prince looked at that man.
He was very angry.