Chapter 1: The Forgotten Son

The sound of steel clashing echoed through the sprawling courtyard of the Valen estate, where sunlight gleamed off the polished armor of the guards training in disciplined formation. Warriors practiced their drills, swinging swords with precision, honing their skills to protect one of the most powerful noble families in the Empire of Lysoria.

Beyond the courtyard, in the shadows of a crumbling, forgotten corner of the estate, a figure darted between low-hanging trees, blending seamlessly into the darkness. His movements were fluid, almost like a ghost, making no sound as he darted from tree to tree, avoiding the line of sight of the guards.

This was Cassian Valen, the youngest son of Duke Valen.

At sixteen, Cassian was nothing like his elder brothers—Arlen, the famed knight, and Varian, the brilliant tactician. Both were paragons of strength, celebrated across the empire for their valor and leadership in war. Cassian, on the other hand, was regarded as little more than a fragile ghost who wandered the estate, overlooked by his father and mocked by the servants. His thin frame and sickly appearance earned him no praise, no glory—only the pitiful gazes of the maids and the dismissive sneers of his brothers.

But that did not matter to Cassian.

As he knelt silently beneath the shadow of a large oak tree, his hand went instinctively to the hidden blade strapped to his waist. The cool steel felt familiar, comforting even, as if it were a part of him. He took a deep breath, feeling the wind shift as the branches above him swayed. In the distance, the guards continued their loud, clumsy training, oblivious to his presence.

Fools, he thought. Strength is not in broad strokes and loud grunts. It’s in the silence, in the shadows.

He had long ago accepted his place in the family—out of sight, out of mind. But while the Valens celebrated their strength and glory in battle, Cassian had learned a different set of skills—the skills of an assassin. For years, he had trained in secret, honing the arts of stealth, subterfuge, and deadly precision under the tutelage of a man who understood the value of silence far better than the knights and soldiers who paraded through the estate.

His mentor, Seren, had been the Duke’s shadow—an elite assassin who carried out missions in the name of the family without anyone ever knowing he existed. It was Seren who had first found Cassian wandering the estate late at night, watching the soldiers train from the shadows, his eyes filled with something far more dangerous than envy—desperation. Seren had seen in him a hunger, a desire to be more than the "weakling son" who would be forgotten by history. And so, the assassin had taken him under his wing, teaching him the arts of stealth and killing.

Cassian learned quickly. Quicker than anyone Seren had trained before.

He had to.

Tonight would be the first true test of his abilities.

Midnight approached, and the estate had fallen into silence, save for the soft rustle of leaves and the occasional distant patrol of a sleepy guard. Cassian, dressed in black from head to toe, crouched behind a low wall, his sharp eyes scanning the landscape. His target was a merchant named Morrick, a treacherous man who had recently betrayed his father in a business deal. The Duke, for all his power, would never lower himself to deal with such matters personally.

But Cassian would.

"This is different from the training," Seren had warned him earlier in the day, his voice low and cold. "There will be no second chances, no practice. If you’re caught, if you hesitate… you die."

"I won’t hesitate," Cassian had replied, the steel in his voice surprising even Seren.

Now, crouched in the shadows, Cassian’s heart raced—not out of fear, but out of anticipation. He had been waiting for this moment for years, to prove to himself that he was more than the "forgotten son."

He crept forward, moving like a shadow across the stone pathway that led to Morrick’s chambers. The estate was large, but Cassian had memorized every route, every guard’s patrol pattern, and every possible escape route. It was as if the night itself had bent to his will, enveloping him in its protective embrace.

Focus. Breathe. Keep calm.

He reached the outer door to the chambers, his hand gently touching the hilt of the dagger at his waist. With a soft click, he produced a small lockpick from his belt and worked the lock in silence. The door gave way with a barely audible creak.

Inside, the merchant was alone, seated at his desk, scribbling notes by candlelight. He was oblivious to the danger creeping ever closer.

Cassian moved swiftly, each step precise, each breath controlled. His eyes never left his target.

As he approached, his mind raced through Seren’s teachings: Strike from behind. Cut the artery in the neck. Silence them before they can make a sound. Quick, clean, precise.

He was mere feet away now. Morrick’s hunched figure was within reach. Cassian’s grip tightened around the dagger’s hilt, and in one swift motion, he lunged forward, pulling the man’s head back and slicing his blade across Morrick’s throat.

The merchant gasped—a choked, wet sound that quickly faded as his body slumped forward onto the desk, blood pooling across the parchment. The candlelight flickered, casting a macabre shadow across the room.

Cassian stood there for a moment, breathing heavily, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. His heart pounded in his chest, but his hands were steady. He wiped the blade clean and stepped back, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of disturbance.

No witnesses. No mistakes.

He sheathed the dagger and disappeared into the shadows as swiftly as he had come.

Hours later, back in his chambers, Cassian sat by the window, staring out into the night. His mind was calm, his body relaxed, but something gnawed at him from deep within.

Was this truly who he was? A shadow? A killer?

He had avenged his family’s honor, but the act left him feeling hollow, not empowered. And there was something deeper—something darker—that he couldn’t yet understand.

As dawn broke over the estate, Cassian closed his eyes, feeling the weight of a new burden settling on his shoulders. He had passed his first test, but he knew this was only the beginning. His journey had just started, and the shadows he walked in would soon grow deeper and darker than he ever could have imagined.

This is just the first step.