Chapter 1: The Heiress of Flames

In the kingdom of Aerindor, magic was life. Power was not given lightly—it was earned, fought for, and inherited through bloodlines that defined the balance of war and peace.

Among the great houses, the Dukes were the King’s closest vassals, each family bearing a distinct legacy of power that shaped their place in the kingdom.

The 1st Duke family was known as the kingdom’s spearhead—masters of brutal combat and swordplay. Their magic was raw and overwhelming, capable of cleaving through armies like wind through leaves. Their warriors commanded beasts of terrifying strength and were feared far beyond Aerindor’s borders. With their proximity to the King’s court, their influence over politics was unrivaled.

The 2nd Duke family, by contrast, were sorcerers and strategists, wielding intricate spells and arcane knowledge that gave the kingdom unmatched tactical advantage. Their magic was elegant but deadly, manipulating the battlefield from afar with precision and control. They were advisers to kings and architects of victory.

The 4th Duke family controlled Aerindor’s wealth and commerce. While distant from the battlefield’s bloodshed, they pulled the strings of trade and finance, their power flowing through coffers and markets. Their influence was subtle but crucial—wealth was a weapon as sharp as any blade.

And then, there was the 3rd Duke family—Fera’s family—a lineage forged in fire and destruction. Their magic was the embodiment of devastation: swords that could slice through stone, beasts that tore down entire battalions, power that overwhelmed all who faced it. Theirs was a legacy of war—honored and feared.

Into this fierce world was born Fera, the only child of Duke Thario. But unlike her ancestors, Fera’s magic was not the force of direct destruction. Instead, she bore a singular, strange gift—the ability to amplify the magic of others. She could take a spark and turn it into a raging inferno, magnify a roar into a thunderclap, but she could not strike a single blow herself.

For a family that valued raw, overwhelming power, Fera’s magic was a puzzle—a support skill, a tool meant to assist, not dominate. The kingdom was stunned that the heir of the 3rd Duke line was not a warrior, but a support mage. Whispers spread through noble halls: “How can she lead a family of destroyers with such a weak gift?”

But Duke Thario did not care for gossip or court intrigue. Fera was his only child—the sole heir after years of waiting and hoping. From her first breath, she was the center of his world, and he indulged her every desire without question.

She was spoiled beyond reason. In the grand halls of their fortress, servants moved to fulfill her slightest whim. When she was a child, a shout from Fera could send whole kitchens into frantic motion. If she desired a rare magical beast, no corner of the kingdom was too distant to fetch it for her collection.

By the time she was ten, Fera was already a storm of temper and pride. She knew her father’s indulgence was absolute. If she screamed at a servant for a misstep, the punishment was swift and cruel. Nobles who mocked her “support magic” soon learned that crossing her was dangerous. Her temper was as sharp as any sword her family bore.

At sixteen, her role in the kingdom’s wars began—not as a frontline fighter, but as the deadly conductor of devastation. Fera rode atop a crystal chariot, her eyes cold and calculating. Before her marched rows of enslaved mages—commoners and nobles alike—captured through her cunning or her father’s gold.

Bound in collars enchanted to suppress their will, these slaves were weapons—living spells. Fera’s gift magnified their magic to terrifying levels. With a single command, a simple fireball became a wildfire that consumed entire battalions. A whispered curse turned into a storm that shattered walls.

She never fought directly, but through her amplification, her enemies fell in heaps, and her family’s banners flew victorious.

The court was divided. Some called her a prodigy, a new kind of power. Others whispered she was an abomination—too weak, too spoiled, a disgrace to the legacy of the 3rd Duke family.

Yet the King tolerated it, for where Fera led, victory followed. Her name was feared on the battlefield. “The Idol of Death,” they called her, though she wielded no sword herself.

But behind her cold exterior, Fera was a spoiled girl craving the love and attention only her father gave. Her stubborn pride and rudeness were shields forged from years of loneliness and indulgence.

Her power was different—supportive, amplifying, indirect. And in a kingdom where strength was measured by how fiercely one could destroy, her existence was both a shock and a mystery.

Still, Duke Thario remained her unwavering protector and admirer, spoiling her with a love that shaped her into both a fearsome force and a fragile girl beneath it all.

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