Published at 24th of January 2026 7:04 am

Chapter 1443: Founder’s Day

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Founder’s Day dawned over the city of Amberfall.

From the moment the sun rose, the city was already alive. Banners bearing the sigils of House Fireborne hung from balconies and spanned the streets, their crimson and gold colors catching the light.

Shopfronts were decorated, lanterns were strung in rows above streets, and every square bore signs of meticulous preparation for the grand spectacle promised that night.

Every year on Founder’s Day, the royal family of Ignisra would host a spectacular event at night.

And tonight would be no different.

The streets were packed. Families poured out of their homes, vendors called out to one another, and musicians played lively tunes that echoed between streets.

Children ran freely through the crowds, laughing and chasing one another, playing with wooden swords while wearing paper crowns, reenacting tales of the First King with boundless enthusiasm.

Guards were everywhere, far more than usual. Patrols moved in tight formations, their armors polished, eyes sharp, and presence unmistakable. Yet, even their vigilance couldn’t dampen the mood of the citizens. People greeted them with smiles and nods, trusting that the celebration would be kept safe.

Laughter, lively conversations, and the aroma of fresh street food filled the air. For a single day, all worries were set aside.

On Founder’s Day, the city remembered its beginning, not as a place of intrigue or danger, but as a shared home born from fire, unity, and resolve.

Amberfall was jubilant, and as dusk approached, anticipation for the night’s grand show only grew.

Yet, beneath the laughter and lantern lights, something dark was quietly stirring.

Before the night was over, the fate of Amberfall would change.

***

Royal Palace.

Queen Amira sat gracefully on a cushioned bench in the palace courtyard. Sunlight filtered through the flowering trees overhead. Around her, children of nobility sat cross-legged on the grass, their eyes bright with wonder and anticipation.

Nearby, Princess Hazel cradled her and Marlow’s two-year-old son in her arms, gently rocking him as he clutched at her sleeve. She listened quietly, a soft smile on her face.

Amira’s ruby eyes were filled with warmth as she began.

"Long ago," she said softly, "before Amberfall had walls or towers, this land was little more than wilderness. Orc tribes prowled the hills, and pirates ruled the nearby waters."

The children leaned closer, listening attentively.

"But the First King did not stand alone," Amira continued

"House Fireborne was joined by brave allies. House Quinn, who guarded the roads and trade routes, House Bray, whose ships challenged the pirates at sea, and many merchant families stood with them as well, lending their strength, their knowledge, and their courage."

One child raised a hand. "Did they really fight the orcs, Your Majesty?"

Amira smiled fondly. "They did. Together. And because they stood united, they prevailed."

She gestured towards the city beyond the courtyard walls, and continued:

"After the battles were won, our ancestors built something greater than any victory: a settlement where people could live safely, trade freely, and raise their families without fear. That settlement came to be known as Amberfall."

Hazel Quinn glanced down at her son and whispered softly, "This is the city you were born into."

She then inwardly added, And the city you will one day rule...

Amira concluded with a warm smile on her face. "Founder’s Day is not just about the First King. It is about unity, about what can be achieved when many stand as one."

The children smiled and murmured excitedly.

As the story came to an end, Amira rose to her feet with a smile. At her signal, attendants stepped forward carrying baskets filled with brightly wrapped parcels.

"Time for presents, little ones," the Queen said warmly.

She moved among the children herself, handing out small toys and carefully chosen books. Wooden figurines, illustrated tales of heroes and explorers, and sweets passed from her hands into eager ones.

The sound of laughter and excited chatter of children echoed in the courtyard.

Amira did this every Founder’s Day, no matter how busy the court became. To her, the gifts were not indulgences, but reminders that the kingdom was built for the next generation as much as for the present.

The children bowed and thanked her, clutching their treasures as the courtyard was filled with joy.

While Amira was surrounded by happy children, giving them gifts, Princess Hazel gestured to one of the maids to come closer.

"Yes, Your Highness?" the maid whispered.

"Where is he?" Hazel asked softly.

"His Highness is..." the maid replied awkwardly. "He’s away from the palace."

"...I see." Hazel nodded, her brown eyes flashing with conflicting emotions.

She lowered her head and dotingly glanced at her son, who was a spitting image of his father.

"It’s all right, little Marcus," she said gently. "Your father will be here soon..."

The red-haired baby curiously looked at his mother with his ruby eyes and, not understanding a thing, let out a soft giggle.

"Hazel." Queen Amira called out to her.

"Yes, Mother?" The Princess rose to her feet, carrying her boy.

Amira placed a hand on her shoulder and asked softly, "Is everything okay?"

"...Of course." Hazel forced a smile.

The Queen deeply looked at her daughter-in-law and nodded. "Very well, let us head inside."

Hazel was perplexed. "But mother... what about the night show? Aren’t we supposed to head to the main square now?"

Amira shook her head slightly, a cryptic glint in her eyes. "It’s better if we remain in the palace."

Hazel grew even more confused. She had been looking forward to the night’s grand show, yet hearing her mother-in-law’s words, she hesitated before reluctantly nodding.

"As you wish, Mother."

***

An unassuming carriage rolled slowly through the crowded streets, its plain exterior lost amid the bustle of Founder’s Day.

Inside, Prince Marlow sat across from Count Ward, the amber light of the setting sun spilling through the gap in the velvet curtains and flickering across their faces.

The Prince deeply looked at his so-called friend and asked, "Tell me, Burne... what are your plans for the future?"

The Count suppressed the cold glint in his eyes and said with an eager smile, "I’m not sure, but the future looks bright to me, My Prince!"

"Is that so?" Marlow’s lips curled into a faint smile. "Well, I hope it is."

Unbeknownst to the Prince, another person sat in the carriage.

It was an elderly Magus with long, wavy hair. His white beard was neatly trimmed, and his mustache was curled upward at the ends. He wore colorful, flamboyant attire, and a floppy beret sat on his head.

Magus Nilrem glanced first at the Prince, then at the Count. In his pale blue eyes, the geometric outline of a white lotus bloomed.

He chuckled softly to himself before turning his attention back to the book in his hand. The quill danced across the final pages of his book.

The Chapter was titled...

Epilogue.

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