Chapter 3 – The Sky That Burned
The wind sliced through the air like a shard of ice, biting at Kael and Seris as they sprinted across the unstable, crumbling skybridge that arched precariously over the abyss. With each hurried step, the bridge creaked ominously beneath their weight, a terrifying reminder of its precarious state.
Beneath them, the endless void seemed to yawn open—a swirling whirlpool of dark, tumultuous clouds and ethereal blue mist that danced restlessly, teeming with swirling energies. Amidst this chaotic panorama, the glowing cores of distant, floating isles illuminated the horizon, flickering like distant stars in the night. Above them, the sky itself rumbled ominously, the low growls of thunder echoing like the warning growls of an unseen beast. Somewhere far behind them, the ancient temple they had narrowly escaped finally succumbed to its inevitable fate, collapsing in a cataclysmic crash that shattered the stillness of the air.
The ruins were gone, obliterated by time and chaos. The past had been buried beneath the weight of history and destruction.
But the crown was awake—alive with a power that seemed to pulse with a mind of its own.
Kael gripped the crown tightly, feeling the metal radiate warmth against his fingers, a strange sensation that was both reassuring and troubling. It pulsated rhythmically like a heartbeat, as though it were sentient, aware of its bearer. The surface, once marred and dull, now shimmered with an otherworldly luminescence, threads of gold and starlight weaving through the darkness, drawing his gaze. He couldn't shake the nagging uncertainty that gnawed at him: Did this change signify that the crown trusted him? Or was it preparing to unleash its wrath, seeking to consume him from within?
As they reached the edge of the isle, Kael's heartbeat quickened in tandem with the fraying crystal lift that hovered precariously before them. The once-majestic artifact hung more like a flickering ghost than a functional mechanism—its light sputtering fitfully and its structure barely holding together under the weight of years. Seris approached the lift with a steely determination, tapping it once with the hilt of her blade. It sputtered, crackled, and then miraculously lit up faintly, releasing a low hum that reverberated in the air around them.
"It'll hold us for one ride," she remarked nonchalantly, her focus unwavering as her gaze remained focused on the unstable lift. "Maybe."
Kael raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his features. "And if it doesn't?"
She finally turned to him, her silver hair snapping around her like a wild curtain in the wind, fierce and untamed.
"Then I hope you know how to fall gracefully," she replied, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.
"...Great," he muttered, his optimism wavering under the strain of their dire situation.
As the lift jolted awkwardly, beginning its descent into the open air, Kael perched at the edge, his heart pounding in rhythm with the escalating tension around them. He looked out across the breathtaking landscape unfolding below, his eyes widening in awe.
He had never seen the world from this vantage point—the Skylands transformed into a mesmerizing mosaic that appeared to be broken shards of glass floating in a sea of blue. Enormous continents drifted lazily through the firmament, tethered together by streams of vibrant leyline currents that surged with hidden power. Streaks of brilliant lightning danced between the larger islands, illuminating the air with erratic flashes of life. Flocks of sky-beasts wheeled and soared amidst the storm belts in the distance, their calls echoing like distant songs sung by the wind. And far, far beyond, an incomprehensibly massive silhouette loomed—the entirety of a fortress-city floating gracefully atop an impossibly high crystal foundation.
It appeared otherworldly, an imposing edifice that seemed to defy the laws of nature itself, casting an aura of dominance and majesty that resonated with the air around it.
"That's Vel'Therin," Seris's voice came softly from behind him, breaking the reverie.
He turned to face her. "The floating citadel?" he asked, piecing together her words.
She nodded, her expression serious. "Guild capital. Home to twelve archmages and three thousand mercenaries. They control half the leyline routes in this region, distributing and hoarding power as they see fit."
"And let me guess…" Kael ventured, his voice dripping with sardonic humor, "they're going to want this thing?" He held up the crown, the very object that had drawn them into this chaotic dance of fate.
Seris's gaze flickered to the crown in his hands. Her expression remained guarded, yet her tone grew somber. "They'll kill for it. That much I can guarantee."
An uneasy silence enveloped them, heavy and foreboding.
Kael's gaze once more fell upon the relic that had irrevocably intertwined their fates. Despite everything that had transpired, a part of him still struggled to comprehend it all, to process the enormity of the crown's implications.
"…Why me?" he murmured, the question escaping his lips almost involuntarily. "Why did it choose me?"
Seris did not respond immediately. Instead, she sat beside him, grounding herself in the stillness, her sword resting across her lap—a silent guardian in the face of uncertainty.
"I don't know," she eventually replied, her voice measured and serious. "But I know what happens next," she added, her gaze unwavering and directed toward the horizon.
He turned his attention to where she pointed—toward the eastern horizon, where deep streaks of red fire shimmered ominously beneath the gathering storm clouds.
"The old kings called it the Skybrand," she spoke softly, her voice carrying the weight of legends as she described the phenomenon. "A mark that appears only when the blood of the Starborn stirs again."
Kael raised an inquiring eyebrow, struggling to process the implications of her words. "You're saying that red lightning thing is… some sort of magical graffiti?"
"It's prophecy," she affirmed with unwavering conviction. "The sky is marking you. And every warlord, bounty hunter, and scavenger across the Skylands is going to see it by dawn. They will know it as a sign."
Just then, the lift jolted violently, sending a tremor coursing through the platform below them. They landed at a lower isle—an overgrown platform, wild with nature's reclaiming touch, vines cascading down crumbling towers surrounded by the remnants of ancient technology long rusted and forgotten by time.
Kael stepped off the platform cautiously, bracing himself against the feeling that hung in the air—the wind had gone still, too still, a deceptive calm that set his nerves alight.
Turning to Seris, his eyes searched for answers. "You said I might be a king…"
"I said the crown might think you are," she replied cryptically.
He paused, considering her words, weighing their implications. "So what do you think?"
Seris studied him intently for a moment, gauging his resolve and the weight of his burdens. Then, without breaking eye contact, she stepped past him into the ruins, sword drawn and poised for action.
"I think," she stated firmly, "that if you don't learn how to fight, you'll die long before you find out what kind of king you could be."
As the storm clouds began to gather once again, swirling ominously above, they were drawn together by the awakening power of the Crownless King. Somewhere in the shadows cast by the shattered sky, hunters were already moving, unaware of the tempest poised to arrive with the dawn, with Kael at the center of it all.
To be continued...