“You must not tell anybody of this. Only our kind will be able to protect the royal family from perish.”

“Yes, father,” Ainzel noted. Raised among the royalties himself, Ainzel’s fate has been sealed the moment he was born as a Frost. The House of Frost is known to be a long-running bloodline of Dragonborn folk possessing only the power of ice, of all many elements that exist. They are known for their almost snowy-like skin cold to the touch, long, silver hair and blue eyes that pierce colder than the winter. They have dragon-like tails and stand very tall, a sign of their dragonborn bloodline. The Frost family never failed to send the firstborn son, heir to the Frost Duchy to serve as the leader of the Royal Guard in Tir Na Nog.

It is of the Frost tradition to bear the sword of the family, and to serve as the shield of the royals. Training day and night, gaining resistance to poison of all kind – the Frost family has done everything to keep their position and title. That means that little Ainzel is no stranger to these trials. 

“You must drink it, and prove that you are ready,” Ainzel’s father insisted. It is a vibrant red concoction of different potent herbs, mildy bubbling, with the cup holding it doing a very little job of keeping the liquid in place as the cup slowly disintegrates from the drink’s potency. There is no antidote in sight.

Ainzel is only 14, why must he do this?
Because it is his duty. He was born for this very moment.
All the children born from the House of Frost live long lives subjected to harsh training from within their very own house walls. It is to keep the bloodline pure and strong. Raising children with only strength and intellect without unnecessary emotions is a must to keep the House in power.

“Well, here goes nothing..”

3…
2..
1.
He drank it all in one gulp.

“I’m alive! I passed the test!” he was able to drink it with minimal effort. Years of drinking different types of poison to gain resistance was worth it. No amount of amazement was seen in his father’s eyes. It is expected of him to pass.

“Remember Ainzel, you are bound by duty. Our family exists for the sole purpose of keeping the royal family safe. Your life belongs to the kingdom, and you must only die for the kingdom. All your deeds will bear the name of our family.”

Ainzel nodded. 

“From this day forward, you are to live among the royal family in the palace. Bear our family’s arms and raise your swords to those who oppose us.”

Ainzel Glatteis de Frost is 14, standing at 6 foot 3, he is a true dragonborn through and through. He wears his hair in a low ponytail at the back, with length extending almost to his knees. The armor fits him perfectly now. The sword and long bow he need to bear all have the symbol of the Duchy proving that his life is no longer his own.  He firmly believes that his fate is to serve, like the weapon he was raised.

He will arrive to the palace and celebrate his coming of age within its walls.

“Hail, the Marquess of Frost has arrived! Welcome the heir of the Dukedom in all of its glory!”, a knight exclaimed, announcing the arrival of their new leader.

“Why do you look at your own son like that? Is it because he will replace you or is it because he is young and capable?” the King laughed at Ainzel’s father.

“He is still young and foolish, Your Grace, and I shall teach him our ways,” Ainzel’s father said.

“Please tell us your recent vision about our new Royal Knight, Cailleach,” the king requested.

The Seer Callieach have seen many great things in his life, and he oversees the fate of the kingdom within Tir Na Nog. His visions are well regarded by many. With the King’s requests, he looks into Ainzel’s eyes and started his divination.

Calleach screamed in horror.

“Your blood shall bring blood within the castle walls. Your blood will give birth to our ruin! The Dragon shall seek the Divine in the field of the mundane.”