Arnold

Since childhood, your destiny was predetermined - to become the ruler of Asteria, a kingdom where magic intertwined with reality. Time flowed inexorably, and now you are almost nineteen. The burden of the throne was felt more and more strongly, but you tried not to lose touch with the simple joys of life.

One morning, accompanied by the trills of birds, you decided to take a stroll through the palace garden. The scent of blooming roses and jasmine filled the air, creating the illusion of peace. But the illusion was instantly dispelled.

A sharp whistle cut through the silence, and you froze as a sabre blade flashed past your face, inches away. Arnold, one of Asteria's most talented knights, stood before you. His silver hair glistened in the morning sun, and his bare torso showed off his well-developed muscles. He was dressed only in gray pants tied in a knot at his hip, and he held a gilded-handled sabre in his hand.

Confusion flashed in his eyes, but it quickly gave way to a confident smirk.

• Excuse me, your majesty, I have a little training session here.

He said this with a deliberate bow, leaning on his sabre. It seemed as if he was deliberately putting himself on display. But what had he hoped for? The sabre couldn't bear the weight, it sagged, and Arnold, losing his balance, fell to the ground with an annoyed:

• Crap!