Crown Prince Eros Aeloria

For more than four thousand years, Aeloria—the Kingdom of Eternal Boughs—had stood as the oldest and most magnificent realm in Elaris. Hidden beyond forests blessed by Yggalara, the World Tree, its gleaming cities rose among colossal silver-barked trees whose branches stretched toward the heavens. Crystal rivers shimmered with living magic, flowers bloomed through frost and summer alike, and the air carried the faint, ever-present hum of Aether. Aeloria was home to the Seven Great Houses of the High Elves. Forest Elves cultivated cities among ancient boughs. Frost Elves guarded the northern mountains from palaces carved into glaciers. Shadow Elves watched from twilight forests and hidden caverns, while Tide Elves commanded the western seas. Stone Elves raised mountain citadels, Bloom Elves tended sacred gardens, and Sun Elves preserved the laws of light, honor, and justice. Though their bloodlines differed in appearance, magic, and tradition, they remained one people beneath the Crown. At the center of their kingdom stood the royal House of Aeloria. The royal family belonged to no single elven bloodline. For generations, its rulers had married among the Seven Great Houses, carrying traces of every ancestral blessing within their blood. Their luminous skin, white-gold hair, and brilliant emerald or molten-gold eyes made them unmistakable, but it was their bond with the Heartwood that made them sacred. The monarchs of Aeloria were more than rulers. They were the Keepers of the Heartwood, the ancient source of living magic at the center of Yggalara. Through the royal bloodline, the Heartwood nourished the forests, kept the rivers pure, and sustained the Emerald Veil surrounding the kingdom. The Veil was not merely a wall of magic. It was alive. It sensed hostility, concealed roads, altered paths, and turned the forests themselves against those who entered with violence in their hearts. As long as the royal bloodline endured, Aeloria remained protected. Should that bloodline fail, the Heartwood would weaken. The Veil would fade. And the oldest kingdom in Elaris would stand exposed. Not everyone wished for Aeloria’s prosperity. Beyond the Emerald Veil, among the barren cliffs of the Iron Peaks, the Troll Clans had warred against the High Elves for centuries. The trolls were not mindless beasts, as many elven histories claimed, but the remnants of an ancient civilization whose lands had slowly withered. Their shamans taught that the elves had drawn the world’s magic into Yggalara, leaving the Iron Peaks barren so that Aeloria might flourish. To the elves, the trolls were invaders. To the trolls, they were reclaiming what had been stolen. Their oldest prophecy promised that balance would return only when the elven royal line was destroyed. “When the final branch of the royal tree is severed, the forest shall wither, and stone shall inherit the earth.” Twenty-five years ago, they nearly fulfilled it. During the Midwinter Solstice, while lanterns floated above the city and the people of Aeloria celebrated the return of light, troll assassins passed through the Emerald Veil and infiltrated Sunspire Palace. Their target was not the king. Nor the queen. It was their infant son. The attack claimed dozens of Royal Wardens, servants, mages, and members of the palace household before the assassins were finally slain. By the narrowest of margins, Crown Prince Eros survived. The kingdom rejoiced. His parents did not recover. From that night onward, the young prince disappeared from public view. To the people of Aeloria, Eros became little more than a name spoken during ceremonies and royal proclamations. Some claimed he had been hidden within Sunspire Palace. Others believed he had been sent away under the protection of ancient spirits. A few whispered that he had died during the attack and that the Crown concealed the truth to prevent unrest among the Seven Houses. Only King Aldren, Queen Elyria, and a trusted circle of tutors, servants, mages, and Royal Wardens knew the truth. Eros had never left Sunspire Palace. His parents transformed the palace into both sanctuary and prison. Every lesson, meal, and walk through its gardens unfolded beneath careful watch. No stranger was permitted near him, and even members of the Great Houses required royal approval before entering his presence. He was educated by the finest minds in Aeloria. Dawn began with swordsmanship, archery, mounted combat, and military strategy. The rest of his days were devoted to governance, economics, history, philosophy, diplomacy, languages, and the seven disciplines of elven magic. He studied the customs of every Great House and memorized the laws of distant human kingdoms he had never seen. Court etiquette became instinctive until every gesture was graceful, every word measured, and every decision weighed against centuries of tradition. He was raised to become the perfect king. Yet perfection came at a price. Beyond books and painted maps, the outside world existed only through stories. Bustling marketplaces, harvest celebrations, crowded taverns, village dances, and children laughing in city streets were things Eros had never experienced. He knew how many kingdoms humanity had built. He knew their laws, alliances, customs, and lifespans. He had never spoken to a human. Believing their son finally prepared to step into the world he would one day rule, King Aldren and Queen Elyria revived a tradition untouched for centuries. The Grand Masquerade of Blossoms. Long before Aeloria was united beneath one crown, the kingdom’s first rulers were said to have met beneath Yggalara while wearing simple festival masks. They fell in love before either knew the other’s name, House, or station. According to legend, the Forest Mother blessed their union with these words: “Let no crown decide the heart. Let no title outweigh the soul. For the truest kingdom is built not by ambition, but by love freely chosen.” From that day onward, the heir to Aeloria was expected to choose a spouse not only for duty, but for genuine affection. The royal marriage renewed the covenant between the Crown and the Heartwood, strengthening the Emerald Veil and preserving the unity of the Seven Houses. Held only once in a generation, the Grand Masquerade became the most sacred courtship tradition in the kingdom. Invitations were carried across Elaris to princes, princesses, nobles, scholars, knights, and honored allies. Each guest would conceal their identity beneath an elaborate mask. Names, titles, bloodlines, family crests, and homelands were forbidden until the final bell at midnight. For one enchanted evening, every soul would stand as an equal. Officially, the masquerade celebrated peace among the kingdoms. In truth, everyone understood its purpose. Crown Prince Eros would choose the woman who might become Queen of Aeloria. Yet even on this sacred night, the King and Queen trusted no one completely. Several young nobles matching the prince’s height and build were dressed in near-identical garments and sent into the ballroom as decoys. Hidden among the musicians, servants, and masked dancers were members of the Royal Wardens, sworn to surrender their lives before allowing another assassin near the heir. For the first time in his life, Eros would stand among strangers. Behind his mask, he would not be the Crown Prince. He would simply be a young man witnessing the world beyond his books for the first time. His parents prayed he would find a queen. Eros quietly hoped he might also discover who he was when no one else knew his name.

更新於 September 23, 2026