Thorns of the Moonlit Throne
Volume 2 — Chapter 3: The Sunfall Decree
Writer: Sabbir Ahmed
Dawn broke under a sky of burning gold as the Sunfall Dominion crossed into Arvandor.
From the eastern walls, Lyriana watched banners rise—white cloth blazing with the symbol of the radiant sun. Three legions marched in flawless order, armor polished to a blinding sheen. At their center rode a lone figure cloaked in ceremonial firelight.
"Their High Inquisitor," Aryn said beside her. "Caelum Virex."
The gates remained sealed as the emissary approached alone, his footsteps echoing across the stone bridge. He carried no weapon—only a scroll bound in sacred chains.
"I come in the name of divine order," Caelum proclaimed, his voice amplified by magic. "Hear the decree of Sunfall."
Aryn's hand hovered near his sword. Lyriana raised her palm.
"Read it," she said.
The scroll unfurled itself midair, glowing with runes.
"By judgment of the Radiant Synod," Caelum intoned, "Arvandor stands accused of embracing corruption. Shadow magic is hereby declared an abomination. Queen Lyriana Vael is commanded to dissolve the Balanced Crown, surrender the Shadowmarked, and submit to purification."
Silence followed.
Lyriana stepped forward, her cloak brushing the stone. "And if I refuse?"
Caelum's eyes burned. "Then your kingdom will be cleansed by flame."
Behind him, Sunfall priests raised their staffs. The air shimmered with contained power.
Eryon emerged beside Lyriana, shadows coiling defensively. "You speak of purity," he said softly. "Yet you march with armies."
Caelum smiled thinly. "Light must burn to protect itself."
Lyriana felt the crown pulse sharply—warning her, testing her restraint. She met Caelum's gaze without flinching.
"You call balance corruption because it cannot be controlled," she said. "Arvandor will not surrender its people to satisfy your fear."
Caelum rolled the scroll shut. "Then this is war."
Before he turned away, Lyriana spoke once more.
"Remember this day, Inquisitor. You chose fire over understanding."
Caelum paused. "History remembers the victors, Your Majesty."
He mounted his steed and rode back to the waiting legions.
As the gates closed, Aryn exhaled slowly. "They'll strike soon."
Lyriana nodded. "No. First, they'll try to break us from within."
She looked toward the crown, its glow dimmer now—burdened.
War was coming.
But the true battlefield would be belief.