The wolf and the gnome

Long before Theron and Kael were born, their fathers forged a bond that would change the course of history. General Eryndor Ironshade, Theron's father, was a brilliant gnome strategist whose unmatched intellect had been the backbone of many successful campaigns. He was not just a war hero but a symbol of gnomish ingenuity, known for designing the mechas that turned the tide of battles. His closest ally and dearest friend was King Alaric Dravenheart, the lycan ruler who had led his people through the chaos of war to unite the supernatural races under one banner.

Their friendship began on the battlefield during the Great War—a time when the world was fractured and torn apart by territorial disputes among the races. While others saw only chaos, Eryndor and Alaric saw potential for a united future. The gnome's tactical brilliance and the lycan king's ferocity in battle complemented each other perfectly. Together, they orchestrated daring campaigns, leading their forces to victory after victory. Beyond the war room and battlefields, the two bonded over shared ideals—an unyielding belief that the world could achieve peace through unity and mutual respect. 

It wasn't just strategy that tied them together; it was trust. Alaric once saved Eryndor's life during an ambush, throwing himself into the fray to protect his friend. In return, Eryndor risked his reputation among the gnomes by advocating for an alliance with the lycans, a move that ultimately paved the way for the unification of all supernatural races. When the dust settled and the world found peace, Alaric and Eryndor stood side by side, hailed as heroes. 

Their bond extended to their families. Visits between the Silverfang palace and the Ironshade estate became frequent, and their children grew up together. Theron and Kael, despite their differences in race and temperament, were inseparable from the moment they met. Kael, a whirlwind of energy and mischief, often dragged Theron into his adventures, while Theron, calm and analytical, kept Kael grounded. 

Theron vividly remembered their first meeting. He was five years old, perched on a low stone bench in the Ironshade estate's sprawling garden. His small hands worked diligently on a mechanical puzzle—a gift from his father, designed to challenge his already brilliant mind. The quiet hum of nature around him was a comforting backdrop, one he often sought when engrossed in thought. 

Then, like a bolt of lightning on a serene day, chaos erupted. A blur of silver hair and boundless energy came hurtling toward him, scattering leaves and disrupting the peace. Theron barely had time to look up before the young lycan prince skidded to a halt in front of him, panting and grinning with unrestrained excitement. 

"What's that?" Kael demanded, his golden eyes fixating on the intricate puzzle in Theron's hands. 

Theron blinked, momentarily startled by the sudden intrusion. "It's a puzzle," he replied cautiously, holding it closer to his chest as if to shield it from the unpredictable newcomer. 

Without waiting for an invitation, Kael plopped down beside him, his oversized boots crunching the gravel. "Let me try!" he exclaimed, snatching the puzzle with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. 

Theron's mouth opened in protest, but the words didn't come. He watched in stunned silence as Kael twisted and turned the puzzle with fervent determination. It was clear within moments that the lycan had no idea what he was doing. Pieces shifted out of alignment, and the delicate mechanism jammed under his clumsy handling. 

"You're ruining it," Theron finally said, his tone annoyed. 

Kael looked up, his grin undeterred. "I'm fixing it," he declared, as though his words alone could make it true. 

Theron stared at him, a strange mix of frustration and fascination brewing within him. He had never met anyone so unapologetically bold, so utterly unbothered by failure. Despite Kael's fumbling, there was something infectious about his enthusiasm, something that made it impossible to look away. 

With a resigned sigh, Theron reached over and gently took the puzzle back. "You're doing it wrong," he said, his small fingers quickly realigning the pieces Kael had displaced. 

Kael leaned in, watching intently. "Show me how, then," he said, his voice a mix of curiosity and command. 

Theron hesitated. He wasn't used to sharing his space or his thoughts, but something about Kael's unwavering interest felt... different. For the first time, someone wasn't dismissing him or his quiet demeanor. Instead, Kael was looking at him like he was the most interesting thing in the world. 

"Like this," Theron murmured, guiding Kael's hands over the puzzle. Together, they worked in unsteady harmony—Kael's enthusiasm tempered by Theron's precision. 

When the final piece clicked into place, Kael let out a triumphant laugh, throwing his arm around Theron's shoulders as though they had just conquered a great beast. "See? Told you I'd fix it!" 

Theron didn't correct him. Instead, he let the small, fond smile tug at the corners of his mouth, even as he clicked his tongue in annoyance and muttered under his breath, "Complete idiot, total idiot..."

From that day on, Kael was a constant in Theron's life. A whirlwind of chaos and charisma that somehow fit perfectly with Theron's quiet order. He came to the Ironshade estate every single day, always finding ways to follow Theron around. They were opposites in every way—Kael the loud, outgoing lycan; Theron the quiet, contemplative gnome—but in that moment, an unspoken bond had formed.

Theron later came to realize that Kael had barreled into his life the same way he approached everything else—with reckless abandon and an open heart. And for all his faults, that was what made him impossible to resist.