In a world carved by power and marked by light, Solas was born not under celebration, but in secrecy—concealed by love, veiled by fear.
Minerva Oveer remembered every second of that night. The pain of childbirth dulled only by the torment in her heart. A hidden room in the outskirts of Eldwynd Village. A single candle flickering as though reluctant to bear witness. Rain battered the wooden walls like the storm in her chest. She screamed, cried, and pushed, but what brought her the most pain was not labor—it was knowing who the child belonged to.
Aldrich Ames.
The name alone stirred both love and regret inside her. The heir to the most powerful of the Twelve World Don Families. The next in line to lead the Ames Group, rulers of land, sky, and sea, where gold flowed like water and the poor were ghosts in the corner of their empire. She hadn't meant to fall for him—yet it had happened. What they had was real. No arrangement. No manipulation. Just two people who saw one another, away from the titles, the expectations, the chains.
But Aldrich left. Not because he stopped loving her—Minerva knew that much. He left because he was chosen. Duty devoured him, and she had no place in that world.
So she was left with a child. A child with his fire.
Solas.
Minerva held her baby tightly that night, whispering lullabies through cracked lips. But when she unwrapped the cloth and saw the symbol glowing on his tiny hand, her breath caught in her throat.
It wasn't just a mark. It was a Radiant Mark, and not one she'd ever seen before.
A giant, black silhouette of an ape curled around his hand like a cuff of living ink, pulsing with something old and feral. It didn't belong in the light. It didn't belong anywhere she had ever known.
And just as suddenly as it appeared, it faded, buried beneath the newborn's skin as if it had never been there at all.
Minerva never told a soul.
Years passed. Solas grew from a soft, wide-eyed child into a spirited young boy with untamed curls and endless questions. Eldwynd was a small village nestled between wild forests and mountains, where people lived quiet lives—trading, farming, hunting. No one knew who Solas's father was, and if they asked, Minerva would simply smile and say, "He was a traveler. A man who loved the stars more than the ground."
She ran a cloth stall in the village square, crafting vivid vanity garments and hunting gear using her Creation-class Radiant Mark: "Vanity Supply", With just a thought, she could weave brilliant thread from light and emotion, giving her creations a spark that others could feel.
Hunters came to her often.
"You're a magician, Minerva," they would say, laughing as they paid extra for the feeling of courage or warmth her clothing gave them.
But beneath her work and laughter lived the fear she carried since that rainy night. Every time Solas fell, every time he got angry, every time his skin glowed just a little too warm—her breath hitched.
What if it came back?
What if the mark returned?
What if the darkness in it consumed him?
Solas, unaware of the storm beneath his mother's smile, lived brightly. He helped with chores, played with the neighbor kids, chased goats, and asked far too many questions. He would often run up to his mother's stall and tug on her sleeve.
"Why don't I have a Radiant Mark yet?"
"Because the brightest lights come last," she'd say.
He grinned every time.
Then came the day that changed everything.
It was late spring. The trees were full, the air thick with honey wind. Minerva was stitching a hunter's vest when a shadow crossed her stall.
"I heard you're the one who can make even a coward look noble."
Minerva looked up. A man stood there, tall and rugged, a light beard dusting his jaw, and a silver scar over his right brow. His presence was oddly calming, like the still before a hunt. His eyes were sharp—but not cruel.
He held up a torn shirt. "Think you can fix this for me?"
She tilted her head. "Depends. Did you wrestle a bear in this?"
"Just a boar. And I lost."
She laughed for the first time in days.
His name was Julius Vane, a seasoned hunter with a reputation for tracking beasts across regions. He carried the Animal-class Radiant Mark "Wolf Supreme". His senses were sharper than any other man in Eldwynd. He could smell fear, read tracks others missed, and disappear in an instant.
But with Minerva, he stayed.
He visited more often. Sometimes to buy clothes. Sometimes just to talk. And eventually, to see Solas.
The boy took to Julius like a pup finding its alpha. He followed him, listened wide-eyed to tales of monster hunts, and tried mimicking his steps in the mud.
Julius didn't mind. He told him stories late into the night. Of beasts with eyes like moons. Of lands where trees could whisper. Of warriors with wings of flame.
Minerva watched from her doorway, heart quietly breaking and mending at the same time.
She hadn't meant to let him in.
But Julius didn't push. He just stayed.
And one rainy morning—seven years after the first—he asked her to marry him.
She said yes.
They married in a quiet forest ceremony. Just a few friends, a few lanterns, and the sound of rain on leaves. Solas grinned as he stood beside them. He wore a jacket his mother made from her own Mark-light, lined with the warmth of hope.
From that day forward, he was Solas Vane.
Julius became the father he never had. He taught Solas how to grip a blade, how to move silently, how to respect the wild. He showed him how to track birds by feather lines, how to follow wind currents, and how to listen to his instincts.
They trained at dawn. Fished at noon. Sparred at dusk.
Solas adored him.
Minerva saw it. And for the first time in years, she allowed herself to believe that maybe—just maybe—things could stay this way.
But as Solas neared twelve, that old fear returned. It stalked her silently, like a beast she thought long slain.
She remembered the mark.
The dark in it.
It wasn't just any Animal-class symbol. It wasn't just a gorilla or a bear. It had eyes that watched her, even now in memory.
And as Solas grew stronger, brighter, more confident—so too did the whisper inside her.
What if it awakens on his birthday? What if the Radiant Mark isn't what it seems?
But she said nothing.
Because how could she?
Solas was glowing with joy, counting down to his birthday like it was the dawn of his legend.
And so the days passed. Minerva smiled through them. Cooked, laughed, stitched.
But at night, she held his baby blanket to her chest and remembered the mark that faded once.
Would it return as something new?
Or would it return as the truth?