Chapter 6: The Fall of Brotherhood
Golden sunrise spilled into the awakening world of Redia. Cheers echoed through the streets as Queen Cleopatra climbed the marble steps of the palace, her silver hair catching the light like molten starlight beneath her crown. At last, the first day of her reign had come.
Behind the pillars stood Riven—brother, warrior, shadow. Pride flickered in his chest, but alongside it stirred something darker.
The queen greeted her people with grace. They already adored her—for her calm, for her strength, for the vision she painted of a brighter Redia. Riven remained in the crowd, one soldier among many, clapping alongside them.
Later that afternoon, he was summoned to the throne room.
"I want you by my side, brother," Cleopatra said. "Will you help me protect Redia?"
He looked down—he still felt the loss of what could have been. But slowly, he nodded.
"Of course."
In the weeks that followed, Riven was named General of the Knights of Redia. The kingdom buzzed with excitement. The Queen made bold decisions—cutting taxes, recruiting and training new Ki-users, and sending aid to the most neglected villages. Riven led patrols, crushed banditry, negotiated peace in rural lands.
And yet... everywhere he went, the people spoke only of Cleopatra.
Her kindness. Her beauty. Her strength.
Even his own knights looked to her first. Riven smiled through festivals and councils, but a crack had already begun to form inside him.
He didn't just want to serve. He wanted to be seen.
One stormy evening, a sealed letter found its way into his chamber—marked with the insignia of Arion.
Are you handing over the red box or not?
Those words burned.
The red box… Even the name whispered to an old hunger he'd forgotten. At first, he tried to cast the thought aside. But each passing day, Cleopatra's light grew, and his felt dimmer.
Soon after, Riven found himself on the palace balcony with his father, King Marek.
"Riven," Marek said, "what is it you seek tonight, my son?"
"Is it true? Is the red box really here in Redia? If we possess such an artifact, why aren't we using it?"
Marek's gaze darkened. "Because we can't. The red box holds a power bound by dragon blood. Only those of that lineage can awaken it. We safeguard it—but we do not use it."
"And who told you this?" Riven pressed.
"I discovered it long ago. But tell me, who spoke to you about the box?"
"After I left Redia... I met Louis VI. He spoke of it, though he never revealed what's inside."
"If that's true," Marek said gravely, "then he suspects, but does not know. It's the pact—between the Zaiden Empire and the Lands of Internal Conflict—after the Second Ancient War. It forbids him from attacking us openly. So he needs a scapegoat. Someone who can break the terms for him."
"Then… the box. Do we really have it?"
Marek looked away. "That is a truth known only to the royal bloodline. But yes. The box exists… and it's in Lysandra's keeping. No one else knows its location."
That night, sleep never came to Riven.
He visited Lysandra. Their conversation was cloaked by torchlight and stone, their whispers lost to time. Only their heavy glances, her reluctant nod, and the quiet betrayal told the story. She told him where to find it.
Riven remembered what King Louis VI had once promised him:
Bring me the red box. You will open the path to the Redia throne. Let me ascend, and you will not serve—you will rule.
The three lands had no emperor. The throne stood open. And for the first time, Riven let himself believe.
The next night, heart pounding and hands trembling, Riven took the red box from its hiding place beneath Hawk Temple.
He didn't say a word to anyone.
Before dawn, he disappeared.
The bells rang before the sun rose.
Cleopatra stormed into the Council chamber, her expression sharp.
"Where is the red box?"
King Marek's voice cut the room like a blade. "He took it. Riven. I warned Lysandra. No one else knew."
Moments later, Lysandra entered, eyes rimmed with tears, voice trembling with guilt.
"Yes," she admitted. "He took it from me. I'm sorry... Cleopatra."
Rage and heartbreak collided in the Queen's eyes. She turned to Sir Khamon, commander of the elite Special Red Forces—tasked solely with protecting the box.
"Seal the empire," she ordered. "Lock every border. Barricade the New Divine Bridge."
Then she turned to her father.
"Hold the state in my absence. I'm riding to Veloria. He'll go for the Old Divine Bridge via Veloria. The bridge that our knights not have access, from there he can go to the haven kingdom."
"She's right," Marek murmured. "If that box falls into Zaiden hands—or anyone dark touched by ancient blood—this world will not survive."
Without waiting, Cleopatra swept her cloak over her shoulders and disappeared into the storm towards Veloria.
A chase had begun.