A Y ? R O N

  After such a long day, it's only natural for him, the one and only Ay?ron, to be invited to such a huge feast. Unfortunately, it was impossible to enjoy the food until the King had finished his speech. So the whole gothic hall is on standby. As is custom, it's not until the speech is over that people can eat and take full advantage of the atmosphere created by the dimmed lights of the hall's grandiloquent and fmboyant mpposts. Ay?ron is annoyed, thinking that tradition will probably end up killing everyone one day. In fact, tradition is already killing people. Interrupting all his most absurd thoughts, the King seized on the silence to speak.

  "Ten! That's how many men died in battle today. The man with the ogre-like build catches his breath before continuing. But rest assured, we're winning... And we will win! It's because we're winning that these ten men are resting in peace. The colonies want freedom. They rebelled against my Kingdom and they are paying the price. The King let a silence settle, scanning the great hall with a vindictive gaze before continuing. My friends, the battle is not over; we still have the Pine des Jeux and the Galeries Rouges to take back from the revolutionary scoundrels! As for me, I think I've overestimated our adversary. They are fragile, disorganised, timid and ill-equipped. As a result, I have decided that as of tomorrow, and irrevocably and immediately, command of the repressive troops will revert to my fourth son, Prince Ay?ron."

  The King said no more. His authority is so great that the words he utters have a highly effective performative effect. Obviously, such an abrupt announcement created a hubbub. Nobody seemed to be expecting it. No-one, that is, except Ay?ron, who simply began the hostilities by grabbing a fat, well-cooked chicken leg. The nobles are asking questions, trying to understand, to guess their master's intentions. The Prince knows full well that they will not dare ask him directly, as to do so would be to call into question a decision made by the highest authority in the Kingdom.

  The one and only feels a number of eyes on him. Some were not even a little embarrassed, others preferred to cast subtle gnces, secretly, before immediately turning away. Disgust? No, fear? It's impossible for him to transte the emotions in these gnces. The fear and disgust he imagines himself feeling in their eyes is really just a pure projection stemming from the image he believes he has in the eyes of others. In the end, what he knows for sure is that it's time to enjoy the food.

  Tomorrow, Ay?ron will be at the head of a small army of 1,087 men. It will be fun, the young man thinks.

  "Are you serious? You don't even react a little bit? You're really something! excims Abigail with a more or less astonished look, hard to tell with her face.

  - Hm. Believe me, I'm very surprised! But right now, what I really want is to eat...

  - Really?! So you're not even going to react any more?

  - Abigail-

  - Forget it, bro, that girl's a lost cause, always repeating the same phrases over and over!"

  No?l's intervention was predictable. It doesn't take much for him to go after Abigail. And then, as is so often the case, the two of them began to shout loudly at each other and make fun of each other's looks. Despite the countless faults they possess, the King's fourth son considers the two of them sitting at his table to be his only tender and dear friends. Abigail has a facial deformity, her left eye is lower than the other, almost level with her nose.

  She is the only daughter of the Frost family, one of the three noblest houses, not to have received a marriage proposal. So, following a number of events, she ended up here, waging war with the men. Ay?ron thinks that Abigail's eyes are so blue that they shine at night. Not to mention her famous white hair in a ponytail, which she often boasts about.

  As for the other boy, Noel, his physical particurity lies in the fact that he has six fingers in each of his hands rather than five. Intense on the battlefield, he is shunned by his family because of his ignoble inelegance and ferocious bestiality. These two atypical 15-year-olds are friends of the youngest prince. The King's youngest son, who is the same age as them, was born blind. He is convinced that he and they have been made for each other.

  Z E R H A L

  Tonight, the King is not eating. He's not hungry, he's just drinking. In fact, he seems to be in a bad mood. At his table, his wife, his two sons and the three heads of the main Houses are all silent. And this silence annoys the King. Far from being unconscious, he knows full well that he is the instigator of this particurly awkward atmosphere. Absolutely no one understands what he has just done. And Zerhal knows it. As he had expected, his wife, Khann, was the first to speak up. To challenge. Zerhal regrets every day that he doesn't know how to be as strict and authoritative with his wife as he is with the others. She breaks the silence.

  "Varrh? Such a noble and powerful name should never have been sullied by an Eyeless. More than contempt, the Queen's tone evokes that of someone full of resentment. How could you think for one second that it was right to grant him such power? Have you forgotten Aaron? she says, looking at the eldest. Abel? she said, looking at the younger. Didn't they prove their strength on the battlefield? Do you want to confuse the troops?

  - Aaron is only the eldest because Aael is dead. The Queen looks appallingly surprised. She doesn't understand the King at all. Worse still, she looks down on him as if she found him horribly cking in intelligence. Contempt for others comes naturally to her.

  - So what? Zerhal... Zerhal, I have no idea what you're trying to say."

  The Regent of the Kingdom gets up to walk to the other side of the table. Everyone follows him in silence, anxiously awaiting his answer. Although it may seem otherwise, Zerhal is not a good man. But he's not a tyrant either. He seems to have a very specific moral code that prevents him from despising others or hating them for what they are, but doesn't prevent him from killing them without feeling guilty if he feels it's necessary. Once he's finished going round the table, he stops at his new eldest son, Aaron. Aaron is very tall for his age. At 22, he exceeds his father in height. He's not particurly muscur, but he manages on the battlefield. He's neither clever nor intelligent, and his intellect doesn't stand out from that of the others. The King pced his strong hands firmly on his son's shoulders before answering his wife's question.

  "Aael was a good son. But he died. Aaron is a good son. But he's afraid of death, he's frail, he hangs out in brothels, he never questions himself. If Aaron stood in front of me on a battlefield, I'd probably start screaming with ughter."

  Then Zerhal bursts out ughing. He has no particur desire to hurt his son, he's just sincerely saying what he thinks is the truth. He stops putting pressure on his eldest son's shoulders to come and stand just behind his youngest son, making the same gesture to come and put his hold on Abel's shoulders.

  "Abel..Hm, Abel has great potential. But that's all. On the battlefield, he stays close to me and is afraid of getting dirty. He won't be a great warrior. That's for sure. Unable to hear him out, Khann, the Queen, interrupted her husband in a loud voice.

  - Varrh! That's enough of that! What exactly are you trying to say? Get to the point! Distraught, the Queen stared at the King. As for the sons, they're in no better state.

  - What I mean is, they're good children. But you and I, Khann, I think we've conceived a monster. And this monster, although not a good child, seems to me to be a perfect heir."

  As astonishment washed over the facial expressions of everyone at the table, the Varrhs' father slowly returned to his seat beside his wife to develop his idea.

  "Ay?ron is... During the repression of the Colonies, I observed him. No... I've always watched him, but now I'm almost certain. I think he should have been aborted. It should never have been born. You're wondering... You're wondering why I gave him this bit of power at such a young age? It's quite simple. The King began to smile, almost excited by the situation he had got himself into. It's simple, I'm afraid of Ay?ron. And I want to see how well-founded my fear is."

  The princes' mother is struggling to keep up. She has absolutely no idea what her husband is talking about, and it's easy to see the ck of understanding on her face. After this long tirade, the discussions ceased and everyone was content to eat and enjoy the luxurious dishes that only nobles are allowed to taste. In the end, Zerhal didn't improve the atmosphere at all, he only made it worse.

  ------

  This is my very first story. Writing in English is difficult since I'm a French speaker, but it allows me to improve, so it's cool! This first chapter is close to my heart bcs this is where it all begins, but it's also where it will end. I really want to write a story that glorifies the love we feel for others (nothing new, yes) but it's really important to me so I couldn't see myself finding other "morals". In any case, this is just the very

  beginning! I hope it has piqued your curiosity!