The Cub of Espen

Long before the Red Mane flew over the ramparts of Castella, before the Dukes of the Pride ruled their domains, and before Espen bore its name, there was a soldier. A general. A lion.

His name was Cadmus, but the people would come to call him The Lion of the West.

But Cadmus’s legend does not begin on a battlefield, nor in the halls of Aladan command. It begins, as all true legends do, in blood and peril.

In the final days of the waning century, when the rule of Alada was law and dissent a whisper choked by iron, a woman named Simea lived in the barracks shadows. She was a healer and a soldier’s wife, known for her sharp tongue and sharper knife. On the night of Cadmus’s birth, Simea was alone in the reed-woven hut of her people, far beyond the gilded towers of the City-State, where the Empire’s hand reached but did not touch.

That night, three deserters from the Aladan army, broken and bitter men, crept into her home. They thought her weak. They thought her ripe for plunder. But as her child crowned, the storm broke.

With her son still tethered to her by the umbilical cord, Simea rose.

It is said the moon wept light through the thatched roof and bathed her in silver fire. With no weapon but a birthing blade and her bare hands, Simea slew all three men, her screams mingling with the newborn’s first breath. When the blood had stopped flowing, the child lay wailing in its puddle—not bathed, but anointed.

The crones who arrived later to tend to her swore the child did not cry in fear but in fury, and that his mother did not mourn but smiled, her eyes like flint catching the spark.

From that hour forth, it was said the boy bore not a soul, but a flame forged from wrath and resolve. He grew faster, stronger, and bolder than the others. In the training pits, he did not flinch. In war, he did not hesitate. And when the time came to defy the tyranny of Alada, he turned his fury against the Empire that had birthed both his glory and his grief.

He wore red not for loyalty, but for memory. And his standard bore not a crown, but a lion with a crimson mane—in honor of the mother who bled so he might roar.

Thus was born the Kingdom of Espen.

And thus came to pass the age of Cadmus the Lion, first of the Red Mane Kings.