Crownless King: The Heir of the Forgotten Throne
Chapter 6 – Stormbound Sky
The path to Vel'Therin began enveloped in an unsettling silence.
Not the kind of silence that brings serenity, but a silence that presses against your eardrums, filling the air with an oppressive weight. It felt as if Kael had stepped into someone else's dream—one fraught with shadows and whispers. A silence so deafening that even the rhythmic pounding of his own heartbeat resonated uncomfortably, as if it had intruded upon a sacred space.
Following closely behind Seris, Kael maneuvered across a precarious leybridge—an ancient and often forgotten pathway woven from the very fabric of magic itself. This unseen road flickered ominously, stretching across the yawning void that lay between the floating sky-isles. Below them, a vast expanse of empty air bubbled restlessly, storm clouds swirling slowly in an unsettling rhythm, their dark forms streaked with the haunting red glow of the still-burning Skybrand—a celestial scar upon the firmament.
The Skybrand, once a transient mark, was still on its unsettling journey—expanding, consuming, like a massive, unhealable wound in the sky that refused to be sutured.
Peering down into the abyss below, a shiver ran through Kael's spine.
"Are you absolutely certain this bridge won't collapse beneath us?" he questioned, with a hint of anxiety coloring his voice.
Without a moment's hesitation, Seris pressed on, her pace unwavering. "No. And that's exactly why I advised you to tread lightly."
Despite his rising unease, a grin crept onto Kael's face, a reflex of humor flaring even in his apprehension. "Oh, splendid! There's nothing quite like the reassurance of 'try not to plummet into the abyss' to bolster my confidence."
With a flick of her gaze over her shoulder, Seris arched a single silver eyebrow in a silent challenge. "Should you happen to fall, I promise to inscribe some clever epitaph on your grave, just for you."
"...Would you at least manage to spell my name correctly?" he responded dryly.
"Doubtful," she replied, a smirk edging her lips.
After traversing the leybridge, they finally set foot on the next isle—a small, wild sanctuary, obscured and thriving with overgrown flora. This isle belonged to the "drifter islands"—mystical landmasses that floated aimlessly between ley lines like fragmented memories lost to the winds of time. Towering trees had claimed dominion over the remnants of ancient ruins here, their roots intertwining with stones long forgotten. As they navigated through the verdant chaos, birds erupted into the air, startled by their arrival, their vibrant colors a fleeting contrast against the rich greens and glowing fungi scattered across the ground.
Kael took a moment to pause, a thought clawing its way to the surface.
"Hey," he began, his tone taking on a more serious note. "Can I ask you something?"
Seris continued her stride but listened intently. "You already are, in fact."
"...Why are you helping me?" he pressed, feeling an urgency behind the question that hung between them.
The wind whirled softly around them, carrying only silence for what felt like an eternity.
Finally, after a pause that hung heavy in the air, Seris replied, her voice steady yet laced with unspoken weight, "Because the last person I chose to follow didn't survive. This time, I get to make the choice."
Locking eyes with her, Kael observed more than just her physical prowess or weaponry; he searched for something deeper. It became evident that her gaze was unwavering—constantly scanning their surroundings. Not born of paranoia, but rather a skillful vigilance shaped by past losses. She had learned to distrust the deceptive stillness of the world.
"...Thank you," he murmured, genuine sincerity coloring his words.
Without breaking her stride, Seris maintained her forward momentum, but Kael could have sworn her pace faltered, if only for a moment—just enough to allow him to catch up to her.
Yet, even fleeting moments of peace were elusive.
They had only ventured halfway through the remnants of the ancient ruins when the ambiance around them began to shift dramatically.
Kael halted abruptly, squinting into the shadows that now seemed to swallow the light. "Did it just… get darker?"
Seris spun, her sword an extension of her will, ready in hand.
The shadows writhed unsettlingly.
From within a dilapidated archway ahead emerged the sound of iron striking stone.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
A tall and imposing figure stepped deliberately into the clearing.
It was draped in a black cloak, the fabric expertly trimmed in crimson, its presence dominating the space with an almost suffocating intensity. Where a face should have been, there existed merely a mirror-like mask contoured to mimic a serpent's head. The very air around the being twisted and warped, bending the fabric of reality itself as if the light struggled to maintain its form, rippling like heat rising from shattered glass.
Seris's grip tightened around her blade. "Guild enforcer," she stated, her voice a mixture of steely resolve and restrained concern.
Kael felt his heartbeat surge, quickening its pace in his chest. "That's… a thing?"
"One of the worst kinds," she confirmed, a shadow of dread crossing her features.
With deliberate slowness, the figure raised one hand, the gesture commanding and absolute.
Instantly, the ground beneath them cracked, fissures snaking outward as if the very earth were responding to the enforcer's will. Sharp spires of obsidian erupted from the soil surrounding them, erecting an impenetrable cage of dark magic that sealed their path forward.
"He is marked," the enforcer intoned, its voice echoing omnidirectionally, reverberating in their bones. "The relic is bound. The sentence… is death."
Instinctively, Kael's hand shot towards the crown secured at his waist. Yet this time—rather than the expected explosion of brilliance or warm light—there was only an unsettling stillness. The crown remained cold and inert, as if it had lost its purpose.
"Why isn't it working?" he hissed, panic threading through his voice.
Positioning herself protectively in front of him, Seris interjected, her voice low yet authoritative. "It's suppressing the leyline. You can't channel energy when the flow is locked."
"Oh great," Kael muttered. "So we're definitely going to die."
"Not yet," she asserted, fierce determination igniting within her.
In an instant, Seris was in motion.
She struck first, her blade slicing through the air in radiant arcs of frost and silver, a stark contrast to the oppressive darkness surrounding them. The enforcer met her attack with a flick of its hand, a barrier of shimmering magic rippling across its form like an armor crafted from pure energy. The two combatants clashed in a flurry of strikes and parries— a speed too great for Kael's eyes to track.
Yet, despite Seris's remarkable skill and experience, it became painfully evident that it was not enough to withstand the enforcer's power.
In one fluid motion, the figure caught Seris mid-strike, forcefully slamming her down into the ground with unyielding strength. The impact reverberated through the air.
"Seris!" Kael shouted, fear thrumming through his veins as dread clawed at his heart.
The enforcer pivoted slowly, its attention now fixed upon Kael.
Every instinct within him screamed to flee, to run far from this ominous figure. But beneath that instinct, something much deeper roared with fervor:
Stand.
He tightly clenched his fists, the muscles in his arms taut with unspent energy. His gaze was fixed on the ornate crown that rested heavily in his palm, its intricate designs swirling with a deep, mesmerizing light. "Come on," he murmured, his voice barely breaking the silence that hung in the air like a thick fog. "You picked me. You wanted this. So do it—help me!" The desperation in his tone was palpable, as he sought any sign of acknowledgment from the powerful artifact he believed could save him.
Yet, the runes adorning the crown remained unresponsive, cold and silent as if they were merely symbols etched in stone, devoid of any life or magic.
But then, as if the world around him had been stirred awake, something else began to stir—a low, resonant sound vibrated through the very air around him, like the heartbeat of the earth itself thumping with an ancient rhythm.
BOOM.
Kael felt a rush of warmth coursing through his veins, igniting a fire within that felt more like a memory than pain, a flicker of power that awakened something deep within him—a distant echo of his true potential. It was a fire that thrummed with ancient energy, one he hadn't known he possessed.
The Crownless—the powerful entities tied to this mysterious crown—remained silent, their intentions still shrouded in darkness and uncertainty.
However, he could feel a shift in the atmosphere, a charge that filled him with determination. This time, it was he who broke the silence.
"I am not the one you want," he stated boldly, taking a deliberate step forward, closing the distance between himself and whatever darkness lay ahead. "I'm the one you should've killed yesterday." His words rang with conviction, a declaration that resonated through the air like a call to arms.
In response, the crown flickered to life, its gem illuminating with a slow, steady glow that expanded in rhythm with Kael's heartbeat.
And then, like a dam collapsing under the weight of an unstoppable tide, a wave of magic surged forth, enveloping him in its vibrant energy. Kael instinctively raised his hand, feeling the power crackle around him, the air bending and warping as it shattered like glass under the strain of his will.
At that moment, the enforcer—an imposing figure shrouded in shadow—lunged toward him with the ferocity of a predatory beast. But Kael was ready. He caught the impending blow not with his flesh or bone but rather with sheer determination, a protective barrier woven from threads of starlight and unyielding force.
And then, with an instinct he barely understood, he pushed back.
The enforcer was sent reeling, crashing violently backward through a thick stone wall, debris flying in all directions as the very foundations of the space trembled under their might.
An eerie silence enveloped the scene that followed, broken only by the distant sounds of settling stone and the fading echoes of the enforcer's defeat. The obsidian cage that had trapped him began to crack, fissures spider-webbing across its surface as light broke through the clouds overhead, illuminating the dark space with a hopeful glow.
Kael stood there, trembling slightly as the residual light faded from his fingertips. The gravity of what had just transpired weighed heavily on him, leaving him breathless. "Did I… just win?" he questioned aloud, disbelief coloring his voice.
From the ground, Seris groaned, her tone laced with exhaustion. "Barely," she replied, sounding both weary and impressed.
Without hesitation, Kael rushed to her side, concern etched across his face. "Are you okay?" he asked, worry creeping into his words.
Flashing him an irritated look, she brushed off dust from her shoulder with a swift motion. "I'm fine," she snapped, her voice sharper than the shards of debris littering the ground. "I've had worse." Straightening herself, she added with a wagging finger, "Next time, don't wait until I'm almost dead to awaken your inner god."
A smirk crept across Kael's features, a flicker of mischief in his exhausted state. "I was trying to build dramatic tension," he replied, leaning into the familiar banter.
Seris narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms in mock annoyance. "Try that again," she threatened, "and I'll dramatically punch you," she said with a wry grin.
With their moment of levity behind them, they pressed onward, determined to navigate the treacherous path that lay ahead toward Vel'Therin. Though the road was still long and fraught with uncertainty, Kael realized something profound that he hadn't grasped before: the crown had not merely chosen him; it was scrutinizing him, testing his resolve, his spirit.
And as he trudged forward, the weight of that realization settled deep within him, leaving him uncertain about what lay ahead and whether he was truly capable of passing the trials set before him.
Meanwhile, high above the clouds, in a majestic temple that seemed to dance at the very edge of the horizon, an enigmatic masked high priest gazed intently into the flickering flames of a scrying bowl. "The echo grows louder," he whispered with a seriousness that felt heavy with portent. "The Crownless awakens," he declared, almost to himself as he gathered the energies swirling around him.
From the depths of shadow, another voice emerged, low and sinister, echoing through the sacred halls. "Then let the stars burn again," it said, hinting at an unfolding destiny that would intertwine the fates of Kael, the Crownless, and the dark forces lurking just beyond the veil of the known world.
To be continued...