Chapter Text
Year: 7556
Age:
Notch: 5
Stephan: 3
Heronas: 0
The birth of the third child of King Hollin and Queen Coretta was a long awaited one. The two sons they already had - Crown Prince Notch and Prince Stephan (though he insisted in a very three-year-old fashion that he was called Steve) - were familiar sights among the carpeted castle hallways and busy streets, and the people were sure that Prince Notch would grow to be a good King, and Prince Steve would be a more than worthy replacement should the worst happen to the Crown Prince. Many of the civilians silently wished for a princess to be born to the family, though many agreed that any princess born would be likely to turn out just as boisterous as her older brother. Prince Notch, of course, was always very calm.
But when a third boy was born to the royal family, everyone agreed that it was perfect. The boy arrived into the world screaming his lungs out and kicking at anyone who touched him, which meant that he was a very healthy baby indeed. Wisps of brown hair already covered the top of his overly large head and after a few days, he opened up his blue eyes to see the world. The King and Queen were, of course, very proud of him, and he was named Prince Heronas Rahtil Brine, the youngest member of the royal family.
The young Prince grew rapidly in his first few years of life, his tiny feet pitter pattering across the floor and his shrill laughter echoing in the hallways as he attempted one of his frequent escapes from the watching eye of his mother, attempts which were always foiled. Often, he was found in the arms of the Crown Prince, his head on the elder’s shoulder and watching their middle brother as he trained under the careful eye an aged man with white hair and a short white beard who analysed each movement of the lavender purple magic that wafted from Steve’s hands.
Prince Steve’s magic had only made an appearance some months ago, and the King and Queen had immediately found a suitable sorcerer teacher to tutor him after he had accidentally destroyed one of the garden walls. Already, he was proving to be a strong sorcerer, walking in the footsteps of his great grandfather, though everyone agreed that his magic would no doubt be stronger.
Although he was strongly ‘advised’ against using his magic outside of training as he was inexperienced, it didn’t stop Steve from entertaining his younger brother. What started as an infrequent thing became a nightly adventure over the years as the two brothers snuck out of their rooms at night and met up in a quiet courtyard, and Steve would show Hero what he had learned.
“Hero, look, it’s easy!” Steve said, lavender magic sparking up his arms and casting off mist that shimmered into the different shapes of dogs and cats and elephants and lions, echoing some of his more recent lessons in the past months.
“Can you do people too?” Hero asked, now 9 years old after his birthday had passed the month before.
Steve scoffed. “Of course!” The lavender shapes shifted, forming two people Hero recognised as himself and his brother. He grinned and chased the two figures around as Steve watched, laughing, his fingers flicking deftly to control the shape. Several minutes of this chasing game went on until Hero fell to the floor, laughing.
It was basically a ritual by now that Steve let Hero have a try at controlling the magic. Hero was already up on his feet, holding his hands out and dancing on his toes. Steve chuckled as he held his hands on either side of his brother’s.
“Okay, now remember. Take deep breaths, that’s very important, and stay relaxed, okay? Now feel the energy in your fingers…”
(The magic that appeared in a small ball between Hero’s hands was always Steve’s lavender magic and he was always the one controlling it, and deep down, Hero knew that but it was fun to pretend for a little while.)
As always, a small ball of magic appeared between Hero’s hands and a giggle escaped him, his grin wide as he looked at the gently pulsing and swirling magic. Then the grin faded and he titled his head to the side, his eyes narrowing with curiosity.
“Why is it white, Steve?”
Steve took a step back, holding his hands away and watching the ball of soft white magic that was hovering between Hero’s hands, shedding a gentle glow. The ball disappeared the moment Steve stepped back but he quickly shook his head, regaining the space.
“No no, do it again!” he insisted, his voice trembling as his eyes shone.
Hero frowned but did what his brother had asked, taking deep breaths and relaxing and feeling the tingling in his fingers. The white ball came back into existence with a small ‘pop!’ and it hovered between his fingers. Steve stared at it for a long moment, a wide grin slowly growing on his face.
“Holy heck Hero, we gotta show Mum and Dad, come on!”
“But- But won’t they get angry at us?” Hero called, chasing after his brother who had already sprinted out of the courtyard, waving his hand for the other to follow. “We’re supposed to be asleep!”
“This is important, come on Hero!”
Young Hero had no choice but to follow his older brother through the hallways of the castle. They leapt down stairways and dashed through doorways, startling several servants on their path and nearly knocking over a few pedestals. Given that the night was still young (and that he and his brother had been sneaking out for months), Steve knew exactly where to find his parents at this hour and he sprinted headfirst directly into the door of the designated room with a bang . The collision hardly phased him and he ripped open the door, launching into the room.
“Mum, Dad, look at this!” he half-shouted.
King Hollin and Queen Coretta glanced up from their conversation, the servants in the room pausing at the sudden entrance. “Boys, what are you doing awake, you should have been asleep an hour ago!” Coretta admonished as Prince Hero dashed in after his brother, his eyes wide and his shoulders tense and puffing.
Steve wasn’t perturbed. “No Mum, look look!” He spun around to his brother. “Do it again, Hero! Deep breaths, stay relaxed.”
“Steve,” Hero mumbled, casting nervous glances at his parents whose expressions of disapproval were turning to curiosity and even concern. “I-I don’t know-”
“ Trust me , Hero, do it again! Show Mum and Dad!”
Hero gulped but did what his brother had asked. He held his hands out, palms facing each other, taking in a deep breath and letting it out, relaxing himself as best as he could with all these eyes on him. He was certain that he and Steve were going to get the scolding of a lifetime for being out of bed at this hour, but he did his best to stay calm anyway and felt the tingling in his fingers.
For the third time, a small white orb popped into the air between his hands, smaller than it had been the last times and it shimmered and wavered where it hovered before disappearing. Hero frowned and tried again, and the ball appeared for another few seconds before popping away. The boy gave a huff of frustration but Steve was ecstatic.
“See! See Mum! Dad, Dad, did you see that?!”
Hero glanced up to see his mother and father rising out of their seats and coming over to him, kneeling in front of him. “Did you do that all by yourself, Hero?” Hollin asked quietly.
“U-Um… S-Steve usually helps me, but… but his magic is always purple but it was white today, so…I-It’s always his magic...” He wasn’t sure if he was believing his own words. Steve had made small balls of magic before, but it had felt different tonight, and Hero was unreasonably tired, and he wasn’t sure whether the look in his parents’ eyes was concern or excitement.
“Give me your hands, Hero,” Coretta said gently, holding her own out.
Hero did as he was told and his mother turned his palms face up, resting her hands underneath his and the tip of her thumbs running lightly across the lines of his palm. He felt his hands and fingers tingle and as his mother’s hands glowed with a warm amber, white mist shimmered above Hero’s palms, curling and twisting into the air. Steve was nearly shivering with excitement by this point.
“W-What does that mean?” Hero asked as the white mist faded.
Coretta, with a wide grin on her face, leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto his forehead. “It means you have magic, Hero.”
Hero’s mouth dropped open, his eyes widening. “L-Like Steve?”
“Like Steve,” his mother laughed. “But instead of purple magic, you have white.”
“I-I have magic?”
Hollin now gave a laugh, ruffling his son’s hair. “We’d better see to getting you a teacher like your brother. And speaking of your brother..” He rose to his feat and turned his gaze to his second son, his gaze stern. “We need to discuss you leading your brother out of his bed after we’ve put him to bed and using your magic outside of supervision, young man.”
And so the third son of King Hollin and Queen Coretta began his own magic lessons alongside his brother. Over the months, where Steve quickly progressed and developed in his magic into more advanced studies, Hero seemed to struggle with the simplest things and often become flustered, which ended in his magic either fading completely or bursting out in an uncontrollable flash. The latter resulted in a few destroyed trees and yet another broken wall.
After one such occasion, when Hero had yet again hid himself away and had to be drawn out by his parents’ encouraging words, the King and Queen made the decision to seek out a school for him to be properly trained at rather than having a single tutor. They sought out one of the only sorcerer schools of that time and within a short month, Hero and Steve were enrolled and had their bags packed. A sorcerer in regal robes came to collect them and with final goodbyes and promises to send letters and that they’ll be back in the school holidays if not sooner, the two Princes were teleported from the castle and to their new school.