Millions of years had passed.
Yet the Dragon Realm remained mighty.
Mountains rose like dust in the sky, and the roars of dragons still echoed across the world.
In their blood flowed strength — and in history, dignity.
But this era — it belonged to Kael.
Kael was only five years old.
He was still cheerful, innocent, and saw the world through the eyes of a child.
Fighting, learning, mastering power — these meant nothing to him.
He simply loved life: peaceful moments with his parents, heavenly silence, love, joy.
Most dragons were trained for battle from a very young age.
Laws demanded it.
But Kael didn't care about laws.
He just wanted to enjoy the time he had.
He would gaze at the stars in silence,
watch dewdrops glisten on leaves,
walk through the misty dragon valleys at dawn.
A world without bloodshed, without fire — it enchanted him.
But Kael's father — Emperor Zagn of the Dragons — always told him:
> "You are the Dragon Prince! You are the future Emperor. Be strong. Train. Master the art of war!"
Each time those words struck his ears, something inside Kael cracked.
He fell silent.
The weight of those words dropped on his heart like stone.
Inside him, the calm of childhood clashed with the demands of duty.
And one day, he whispered to himself:
> "Why must I always fight? Who will ever understand me? What's the point of conquering a world that refuses to understand me?"
This wasn't just a question — it was a cry from the depths of his soul.
Within Kael's heart, there lived emotions different from power — they were understanding, love, and compassion.
He never spoke those words aloud.
Only his heart screamed them.
Yet Zagn — the Dragon Emperor — stood in silence as he looked at his son.
His dragon eyes were sharp.
He sensed that his child held something different within.
But the throne respected laws, not emotions.
At last, Zagn sighed deeply and said:
> "My son, I won't tell you to become the strongest in the world.
I'll only say this: you are a prince. Carry yourself like one.
A prince cannot be weak.
If he is, how will he protect his people?"
Kael didn't answer. He sat quietly.
His eyes fixed on the sky, searching for answers.
There was no fire inside him — no, it had not yet been lit.
Perhaps it never would.
Perhaps his fire was different — not one that burns, but one that illuminates.
He loved the palace's back garden.
That place was different.
The scent after rain, wildflowers, the gentle breeze, the stars — they called to him.
There, he wasn't a prince.
There, he was simply Kael.
As he sat in that garden, questions weighed on his heart:
"Why do we always test strength with more strength?
Why do dragons glorify bloodshed?
Why is peace seen as weakness?"
The mountains in the distance remained silent.
The sky gave him no answers.
Yet every time he looked up, his heart felt lighter.
This peace didn't come from battle — it came from understanding.
One night, as Kael sat alone in the garden,
Zagn watched him from afar.
He saw the boy sitting quietly, gazing up at the stars.
There was no fear in his eyes.
No hatred either.
Only peace.
For the first time, Zagn began to doubt himself:
"Is strength alone enough to be an emperor?
Maybe Kael is meant to be a different kind of prince..."
But such thoughts didn't stay long.
The next day brought meetings, war training, and the laws again.
He simply turned his heart back to stone and kept walking forward.
Meanwhile, Kael slowly began to understand:
He wasn't just a father's son.
He wasn't just the heir of a dragon dynasty.
He was a being awakening to his own truth.
And as he began to understand himself — something within him started to awaken.
Not a power born of rage,
but a strength born of the heart.