On the morning of Iltier's Imperial Journey, months after she turned 22 - and years before she would go back in time - Gattara, her mother and first in command in Ashtaria, entered her room.

Clothes, essential items, currency, and assorted belongings were strewn across the princess's bed in her bedroom. Iltier, despite the assistance of her attendants, was still in the process of getting dressed. She wrestled with her hair, deliberating whether to wear it up or down.

Gattara Ehrath, Ashtaria's ruler and Iltier's mother, was, with the exception of Iltier's birthmark discoloration on her right eye - making even her eyebrows and eyelashes white - the perfect older version of her daughter in appearance.

She was tall, imposing, and loved to wear light colors to contrast with her dark skin. Her clothes, to say the least, were elegant, but they lacked femininity, as she felt bothered by their discomfort. It was not about being feminine or not; to be honest, the issue lay in the way women's clothes were made, and she hated every part of it to the brim.

Granted, most of it was not even designed by women themselves, as it showed a lack of logic and no attention at all to the female anatomy. In weird cases, even things like pockets were there only for decoration and couldn't be used at all. Gattara was tired of trying to understand why women wouldn't prioritize functionality over appearances. The answer she came up with was the stereotyped idea that men had about women, assuming they only wanted to look good.

For starters, why were clothes strongly defined by gender? And why were those intended for women so uncomfortable? She once wondered in clear disgust.

For that particular morning, Gattara was dressed in a light green shirt and pants, complemented by a robe of light fabric. While green happened to be one of Iltier's favorite colors, the fact that her mother wore the same color on the first day of the princess's Imperial Journey had nothing to do with Iltier's preferences. Instead, it was likely the most accessible outfit in Gattara's wardrobe. In Iltier's eyes, her mother was the busiest person in the empire, and aside from the need to impose herself and her fondness for light colors, nothing else mattered about her clothing. She was, through and through, a matter-of-fact person.

"It's done." She entered Iltier's bedroom with two boxes. In her right hand, she held a large rectangular box, big enough to carry a medium-sized musical instrument or a sword. The other, small enough to fit in her left hand, resembled boxes used to carry jewels.

"Just in time!"

"But you need to choose first. Come here."

Disregarding whatever lay on Iltier’s bed, Gattara placed the two boxes above it and sat down, waiting for her daughter to do the same.

"Before you embark on your Imperial Journey, I need to give you two things. For one of them, you need to choose virtues, so that they will always accompany you and you will never forget them. It's in line with Imperial customs, you know the procedure."

Gattara opened the smaller box, revealing it to be filled to the top with cufflinks of all shapes and sizes. They varied in forms such as hearts, flowers, crosses — each one representing a virtue.

Every one of the ten individuals most suited to rule the empire had to choose virtues to carry with them on their journey. This process played a crucial role in determining the first and second in command, as well as the eight subsequent positions. The chosen virtues were not only symbolic but also influential in their journey. How they were utilized and the impact they had would be essential aspects to consider.

Every aspect of their journey was being taken into consideration, and the one who best understood what the empire needed would be chosen as its ruler.

Iltier looked curiously at the cufflinks, searching for the ones she had previously chosen. As a custom, each of the ten most suited individuals were educated in Imperial Culture, and the choice of virtues was something they deliberated in the classroom. However, the cufflinks were only handed out on the first day of the Imperial Journey, allowing them the opportunity to change their minds.

Gattara didn't have much time on her hands, but she was determined to see her daughter off, even at the expense of her husband who was covering for her. Nonetheless, Iltier was taking too long to choose the cufflinks. Ten minutes had passed, and during this time, the only thing Iltier did was move her head closer to the box.

Impatient, Gattara grabbed her daughter's chin and urged her.

“Choose now, I still have a lot of work.”

“...URRGH MOM- I mean, EMPRESS-”

Iltier, also impatient with the uncomfortable position to choose the virtues, took the box out of her mother’s hand and selected three cufflinks from it.

"A hint, it is not about which virtues you choose, but how you use them, I don't even remember the ones I got decades ago."

"...Courage, Compassion, and Serenity."

"All right." Gattara gently took her daughter’s arm and the cufflinks that were in Iltier’s hand.

“Let me put them on for you,” she said as she then placed them there. Iltier raised her wrist to see the cufflinks in place.

“...So?”

She looked back at her mother and nodded, smiling.

"Now, with this done, I need to give you the weapon the Ehraths made for your journey. People in charge should be just as good at protecting their subjects as they are at protecting themselves."

"...And dad didn't participate in that?"

"I swear I tried," she shrugged.

It was an Empire custom to forge one weapon, and only one, for the ten individuals most suited to rule. This weapon, funded by the Empire, was designed by the family of the candidate.

Another custom, which influenced the choice of the weapon, was that the inherited surname of the firstborn would be determined by a duel between the couple, and the secondborn would inherit the surname of the loser of the duel. The subsequent children would follow the order established by the duel. Although the couple could define the surname by themselves without the use of a duel, that was not the case in the princess’ choice of surname.

Iltier inherited her mother’s surname, ‘Ehrath,' and thus her weapon would be a sword, not a small-sized weapon she might have received if she had inherited her father’s ‘Silvrain’ surname.

The ten weapons of every generation were crafted to accompany the wielder throughout their life. Even the Ristaves, who fought with their fists, received some sort of Gauntlet or another piece of armor of their choice— in some cases, even necklaces filled with magical power.

These weapons were referred to as the ‘Treasures of the Generation,’ and no expense was spared in their forge. Only materials of the best quality were used, employing the finest techniques from the renowned blacksmith family of Ashtaria, the ‘Tricarda,' which dated back to the founding of the empire.

These weapons were an absolute symbol of pride for each family, inevitably leading to disputes over which family had the most treasures in each generation—a nearly amicable dispute, mind you.

Gattara placed her thumb in the box lock and paused for a moment.

“To tell you the truth, I did try to stop him from doing something to your sword, but I prefer him to worry about it. At least that way, he spends less time trying to get me pregnant to put his surname on your sister or brother... As if I had time to get pregnant. Did he stop to check on the state of the empire?????? Does he understand my age?????”

“...right?” They both sighed.

“You both should consider adopting?”

“Not now, no time whatsoever.”

“...yeah.” They sighed again. Gattara opened the box, and Iltier widened her eyes at the sight of the sword inside.

“...Wow. It’s... beautiful? And blue? Didn’t see that coming. Woah, is it sharp?”

“Ready to use!”

Before taking the sword out of the box, Iltier examined every detail. The blade was unsheathed, and the almost translucent blue blade alone was enough to make it the finest weapon of her generation. But that wasn't all. The cross-guard was shaped like wings, resembling the hawk symbol of the Ehrath family crest, and the rain guard featured the hawk’s head in a glorious bright green— one of Iltier’s favorite color. Long before she lifted the sword from the box, she knew it would be light. It was a deadly feature of the blue mineral used for the blade. The pommel resembled claws, but in a way that she found interesting and not inconvenient in the least.

Everything about the sword were perfect and balanced in Iltier’s eyes, except for the grip. It would take an experienced swordmaster to notice without even taking the sword in their hands.

“Oh? The grip is a bit thicker? That will take time to get used to.”

“Blame your father.”

Now with the sword in hand, she looked curiously at the grip which had the Silvrain family crest carved.

“Why is Silvrain’s Wolf here?”

Without time to explain, Gattara pressed some part on the grip, and something small enough to fit the grip broke free from the sword, falling into Iltier's hand.

“ahah...What’s this.”

“Your father’s work, can’t you guess?”

"A small blade...it looks like a switchblade, but how does it work... Oh?" Looking carefully, she noticed something similar to a button, but it was not meant to be pressed like how her mother did to free the switchblade. She slid the button, and a blade that fitted the body of the switchblade made its way out.

“Thank him later. Well, I have to go. Have a nice journey, see you in one year!”

“Alright! Thanks.”