Arcana

The Empire of Estel, a powerful nation on the northern continent, had long prospered with its wealth and military might. However, the empire's northernmost border was always unstable. Beyond the snowy mountains and coniferous forests lay the enemy Kingdom of Caldia, and the two nations had been engaged in border disputes, large and small, for decades.

Among the families guarding that border, the most famous was the Von Bailen Margraviate. A prestigious noble family that even the royal family treated with respect, they were like a shield protecting the northern front lines. The people of the Bailen family had lived for generations amidst swords, warhorses, blood, and responsibility. The eldest son would make his first sortie at sixteen, and the children grew up learning about war, glory, and sacrifice from a young age.

But even in such a family, the youngest, Arcana, was an exception.

Arcana was born late. He was the last child, born with difficulty to his sickly mother after his older brothers and sisters were nearly adults. Because his mother suffered greatly immediately after childbirth, the entire family doted on him to an excessive degree. His father, in particular, who had witnessed the deaths of many family members on the battlefield, did not want to pass on a blood-soaked life to his youngest son.

Thus, Arcana grew up in an unusually warm environment. The mansion's staff would smile when they saw him, and even the knights would bow and lower themselves to his eye level when the young master passed by. His brothers brought him gifts whenever they were on leave, and his sisters had new clothes made for him each season. His favorite dessert was always placed before him at the dining table. He was accustomed to being loved and grew up believing that the world was fundamentally a kind place.

However, the northern winter could not be completely hidden, even within the warm mansion. Wars repeated every year, and the mansion was always frequented by the wounded and messengers. Cries could be heard from the end of the corridor, and the servants would whisper the names of the fallen at dawn. Young Arcana didn't understand the meaning at first, but as he grew, he gradually realized. While he was smiling by the warm fireplace, someone was dying in the snow-covered fields.

Especially after the year all three of his older brothers went to war, he changed rapidly. Every time a letter arrived, the family would hold their breath, and his mother would cry in the prayer room every night. His father spoke less and less. Arcana began to feel guilty for the first time about being "protected." He felt like he was hiding in a safe place while everyone else was bleeding.

He secretly learned first aid from the medical orderlies and loitered around the training grounds with the soldiers. His family dismissed it as the naive curiosity of their young son, but Arcana was serious. He wanted to help someone. He wanted to be someone useful to his family, not just someone who received love.

Finally, one winter dawn, he slipped out of the mansion, wearing the military cloak his brother had left behind. He believed that going to the battlefield himself would change something.

But the reality of the battlefield was nothing like the heroic tales. Amidst the smell of blood and screams, Arcana realized for the first time how fragile he was.