Crownless King: The Heir of the Forgotten Throne
Chapter 2 – The Blade and the Brand
Kael remained utterly still, his body frozen in place, but not out of courage or valiance. No, the reason for his immobility was far more dire: the glinting edge of a woman's blade was pressed coldly against his throat, the metal biting into the skin in a way that left no doubt about her intentions.
It was a strange sight—the weapon shimmered faintly with a frost-like sheen, thin tendrils of icy mist spiraling gracefully from its sharp edge. Distant torchlight reflected in her striking silver eyes—those eyes that were both captivating and terrifying. They were predatory, sharp yet inscrutable, scrutinizing him as if he were a curious blend of prey and an intricate riddle waiting to be solved.
"She's going to kill me."
The realization sank in as he swallowed hard, the sound echoing in the tense silence. His hands still clutched the broken crown, a relic of lost power, its weight felt almost unnatural, as if it had melded with his very being. No matter how desperately he attempted to release it, his fingers refused to obey, as if driven by an unseen force.
"Who are you?" he managed to ask, swallowing again, doing his best to mask the tremor in his voice that threatened to betray his mounting fear.
The woman offered no response, only narrowing her eyes with an unsettling intensity. With an unsettling calm that sent a shiver up his spine, she struck downward with devastating precision.
Kael's reflexes kicked in just in time; he ducked his head sharply, narrowly avoiding the lethal arc of the blade as it sliced through the stone behind him. The sound of ice shattering and rubble scattering filled the air like a cacophonous warning. He rolled to the side and scrambled back, putting critical distance between them.
"Okay!" he gasped, his breath coming in ragged bursts. "So… talking's definitely off the table."
The woman moved with a speed so fierce that it seemed unnatural; she was a blur, a force of nature. But there was something about her speed that he could match—at least for the moment.
With a sudden surge of desperate courage, he thrust his outstretched hand forward.
The crown ignited with a fierce, brilliant light.
For just a fleeting instant, time slowed to a crawl.
His heart raced as ancient runes sprang to life across his arm, glowing with a pulse that felt both foreign and primal—a connection awakened without warning.
In that heartbeat, the woman froze mid-strike, her deadly sword suspended mere inches from his chest, halted by an invisible barrier radiating from his form. Sparks erupted violently where her blade met the unseen force, a vivid interplay of light and energy. She hissed in pain, her movements instinctive, as she leapt back and landed with uncanny grace on a broken pillar.
Her gaze shifted now; the contempt that had been there moments before was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating scrutiny.
"…You activated it," she said, her voice low and laced with an edge of disbelief.
Kael's chest heaved as he clutched his glowing arm, confusion flooding his thoughts. "I don't know what 'it' is!"
"That crown is a relic," she explained, her tone urgent yet commanding. "And if you've bonded with it, then…" Her expression darkened, a mixture of concern and doubt washing over her features. "You're not merely a thief. You've become a significant threat."
"Gee, thanks," Kael muttered under his breath, sarcasm bubbling to the surface. "That's the kind of compliment everyone loves to hear."
The two adversaries faced each other in the desolate, crumbling chamber, a palpable tension hanging in the air between them.
Outside, the wind howled mournfully through the ancient arches, whispering secrets of a forgotten time. In the distance, an old bell tolled—a somber warning that reverberated through the landscape, foretelling an influx of magical energy. He sensed it; a storm was brewing, and they would not be alone for long.
Slowly, the woman lowered her sword ever so slightly, her demeanor shifting as if reconsidering her approach.
"My name is Seris Vel'Ara," she stated firmly, her voice steady. "And you've just set off a chain reaction by triggering the single most perilous artifact throughout the Skylands."
Kael blinked, the reality of her words washing over him. "Is that… bad?"
"That entirely depends on you," she replied, taking a cautious step forward, her blade still poised for any sudden movement. "Are you the rightful heir of the Starblood lineage?"
He glanced down at the crown clasped tightly in his hands, feeling a growing sense of dread. Then his gaze flickered back up to meet hers.
"…What's a Starblood?"
Seris closed her eyes for a brief moment, a look of profound pain crossing her features.
"He does not truly know."
"That complicates matters immensely."
Before Kael could voice another question or plead for further clarity, a deep tremor shook the very foundations of the temple, reverberating through the walls.
Magic pulsed vividly and violently, the stone itself becoming alive with energy. The veins of magic that had awakened at Kael's touch began to throb with urgency, a powerful presence stirring in the depths of the ancient place. Something was coming back to life—something very old.
"He has awakened the Vault."
"The boy is marked."
"The Guild will soon arrive."
Seris gritted her teeth, urgency overtaking her expression. "We need to move. Now."
Kael took a cautious step back, uncertainty flooding his thoughts. "Wait, we?"
She turned to him, her demeanor deadly serious, her silver eyes piercing through his uncertainty.
"You have no idea of the gravity of your actions. The crown does not choose its host lightly, and if you have been chosen…" Her gaze sharpened. "Then you stand as either a king or a corpse, entirely at the mercy of the forces you have just unwittingly unleashed."
Kael hesitated, battling his thoughts. He understood the implications just enough to feel the weight of panic settling in.
Still, he glanced again at the spot where he had discovered the crown, the ruins around it glowing faintly now, like the remnants of a dying heartbeat.
Deep within him, he felt something stir—something restless and whispering.
"Claim the sky. Or be forgotten by it."
Turning to Seris, he made a decision that would inevitably change his fate. "Alright… I'll go with you."
Seris nodded, relief briefly flickering in her eyes. "Just don't make me regret my choice."
As they hastily fled into the encroaching darkness of night, the temple behind them began to fracture and collapse, revealing a massive seal far below—a sigil intricately carved with the ominous mark of the Crownless.
And in the suffocating shadows, unseen and ominous, something stirred and opened its eyes, awakening from an age-old slumber.
To be continued...