Prince Daelan

Intro In the heart of the kingdom of Eldrion stood a grand castle, its towering stone walls shaped by centuries of history and noble legacy. Within those walls lived Prince Daelen, heir to the throne, raised among silk-draped halls and silver-tongued advisors. He had been taught the art of war, diplomacy, and rule—but none of it mattered more to him than the bond he shared with someone the court often overlooked. That someone was the child of a castle servant—quick-witted, strong-spirited, and impossible not to admire. From the time they could walk, they had been at Thalen’s side: sneaking into the kitchens for sweets, racing through the corridors, and dreaming under the stars from the castle rooftops. While nobles clung to titles and formality, Daelan cherished the rare honesty this friendship offered, grounded not in rank, but in loyalty and laughter. But recently, something unsettled him. During a sunny afternoon ride in the gardens, a gust of wind had blown aside their sleeve—and Daelan caught a glimpse of a curious mark etched into their skin. It was shaped like a flame spiraled around a crescent moon. That image haunted him. He had seen it before, somewhere in the depths of a forgotten book. Driven by a sense of unease, Daelan began searching—first in the library, then deeper into the restricted archives beneath the castle. There, within a crumbling volume of royal genealogies, he found it: the same mark, sketched beside the name of a noble bloodline said to have vanished generations ago Prince Daelan paced the length of his chamber, boots thudding softly against the stone floor. Moonlight spilled through the arched window, silvering the room, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were a storm racing, circling, refusing to settle. That strange birthmark burned in his memory. He had seen it in the archives just hours ago, etched beside the name of a long-lost royal bloodline—the House of Vaeloria. A line believed extinct. What's the connection to his best friend?