For many years, the King and Queen of Alderan had no child.
They ruled a rich and peaceful land. The people loved them. The sun always shone over their castle. But in the deepest part of the palace, the halls were too quiet. There was no child's laughter. No heir to the throne.
Queen Elyra cried in secret.
King Kael prayed at night.
They asked the Flame Stone a great ancient power for a child. It was not a god, but the land's oldest force. People feared it, but the royal family served it. They gave it gold, rare herbs, even blood sacrifices. Anything it asked. And one day, it answered.
It was not the answer they expected.
That night, the sky turned dark. The stars blinked out, one by one. The moon turned red. Birds flew from the trees. Wolves howled in the distance even though no wolves had been seen near the castle in many years.
And then, the queen gave birth.
The baby was not a wolf. He had arms and legs, skin and a heart.
He looked like a boy… but something was wrong.
His eyes were glowing gold, like fire trapped in glass.
His hands had long, sharp nails, like claws.
His breath came out in steam, even in warm air.
He growled before he cried.
The midwife dropped him.
The priests ran.
The queen picked him up with shaking hands… and smiled.
"You are mine," she whispered. "You are the one I waited for."
King Kael stood in silence. He looked at the child. Then at the Flame Stone, burning in its sacred chamber. And for the first time, it spoke to him:
"You asked for a child. You were given a warning."
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The next morning, strange things happened across the land.
Rivers turned muddy and stopped flowing.
Black flowers bloomed on every road.
Wolves were heard howling in every forest.
The sun refused to rise.
People began to whisper:
"A cursed child has been born."
"He is not fully human."
"He will bring ruin."
Priests said he was a mistake.
Elders called him a danger.
Even nobles feared him.
A council was called to decide the child's fate. The priests said, "He must be killed before the curse spreads." The people agreed. "Let the land be clean again."
King Kael, though broken, said, "We will follow tradition. Let the land judge him. If he is cursed, the Flame Stone will show us."
But Queen Elyra stood in silence.
That night, while the castle slept, she wrapped the baby in warm cloth, held him close to her chest, and ran.
She left her crown behind. Her throne. Her name.
Through dark forests and wild rivers, she walked. Days turned to weeks. She crossed into forgotten lands where no one would look for a queen or a cursed child.
There, she found a cave hidden behind waterfalls, under the roots of a sleeping mountain. There, she made a home.
She named the boy Rai.
He grew fast. He was strong, even as a child. He could see in the dark. Hear things from far away. Animals feared him. Sometimes he would wake in the night with glowing eyes, his voice like a growl.
He was not fully boy. He was not fully beast.
But to Elyra, he was her son.
"You are not cursed," she would whisper.
"You are chosen. You are mine."
And in the kingdom he left behind, people tried to forget.
But they could still hear the howls at night.
Still see the flowers growing where no light touched.
Still fear the day the boy would return.
The child with wolf in his blood.
The one the Flame Stone warned of.
The one who was never meant to be.
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