CHAPTER ONE — THE THRONE OF ASHES
He did not become king by any political means…
nor by right as heir to the previous king.
He became king through the blood of his enemies —
walking the stairs made from their shattered skulls.
Only one remained.
The old king.
His father.
One of the few people he had ever truly loved.
The man who once held him as a child.
Akajaya killed him too.
Brutally.
Without pause.
Not because he wanted to…
but because the world he was building had no room for mercy,
no room for weakness,
no room for the past.
The world fell quiet — and in that quiet, I became the king.
The throne was still warm when I sat on it.
His blood hadn't dried yet.
The guards and council did not speak. They did not breathe.
No one dared meet my eyes.
Good.
A kingdom born in silence…
never forgets the sound of its last scream.
I did not speak.
I only looked around the hall —
torn banners,
cracked stone,
ash still hanging in the air.
This was Skalvorn now.
Not the one my father ruled.
Not the one the old king built.
Not the one the stories say.
Mine.
---
The Council of Thirteen
They stood beneath black banners.
Smoke clung to the air, blood still staining the stones.
Varrek Lysandor, Prime Minister —
Calm. Calculating. Unmoved by crowns.
> "The boy wields fire. I have patience. Fire burns out. Time remains."
Kaelen Dravok, Minister of War —
Grinning. Blood still on his gauntlets.
> "A true king knows: strength is the only law."
Taris Velkor, Minister of Finance —
Focused on ledgers, not thrones.
> "Blood feeds war; war feeds coin. The cycle must never break."
Selira Vondrin, Minister of Justice —
Cold as drawn steel.
> "Law bends only for the strongest hand."
Zephyra Talvane, Minister of Foreign Affairs —
Whispers hidden in a smile.
> "Every smile hides a dagger; every ally, a threat."
Morvak Thal'ren, Minister of Intelligence —
A shadow watching shadows.
> "I see all… yet trust none."
Iselara Nymith, Minister of Religion —
Praying to gods no one else dares name.
> "Fate burns bright in his veins."
Jorvin Kalsen, Minister of Trade —
Loud. Greedy. Smelling of coin.
> "Morals cost too much. Only gold matters."
Darvok Siltren, Minister of Public Works —
Stone-blooded. Unshakeable.
> "Build strong… or watch it all fall."
Lyric Saevan, Minister of Archives —
Keeper of truths. Protector of firebound scrolls.
> "Burn the past, and the future walks blind."
Branik Dorsen, Minister of Agriculture —
Earth-fed. Truth-rooted.
> "The land feeds all — kings come and go."
Kaida Renvar, Minister of the Royal Guard —
Loyal to a dead man. Waiting.
> "I serve the crown… but remember the man beneath."
Thalen Karvog, Minister of Armory —
Arms folded. Blacksmith's soul still burning.
> "A king is only as strong as the blade in his hand — and I make the blades."
---
I rose from my throne.
The weight of their gazes pressed down like iron chains.
> "Enough," I said.
Voice cold, sharp as a blade.
> "Listen closely, all of you.
What I am about to say shapes the fate of Skalvorn —
and none shall forget it."
---
Then… a sudden chill slipped through the room.
A sound.
Soft — but in the silence, it was a scream.
Footsteps. Behind the throne.
No one opened a door.
No one announced him.
No one dared.
Then — a voice.
Low. Calm. Familiar.
> "Do you remember… his will?"
---
The blood in my veins slowed.
I stood at the top of the world —
and still…
I could not stop the chill running down my spine.
Because I did remember.
He casts no shadow of blood.
He offers no hand of friendship.
He claims no throne of godhood.
And yet… the world bends beneath him.
He does not speak.
He does not demand.
He simply is.
If he willed the kingdom to crumble, it would.
If he willed rivers to boil, they would.
If he willed life to end, mine would go first.
If he willed my submission, I would kneel without thought.
If he willed my death, I would greet it as a gift.
Not from loyalty.
Not from hope.
Not from fear.
But from knowing some forces cannot be opposed.
This throne. This crown. This power…
All are illusions.
All belong to him.
All bend and break b
eneath the weight of his will.
And in that truth… I am strangely free.
Free from choice.
Free from doubt.
Free from the lie of my own strength.
He is everything.
Nothing is my will.
In this world…
everything is His Will.