The council chamber was cold, the air thick with the heavy scent of old wood and incense. Aleron stood at the far end of the room, his fingers wrapped around the edges of the oak doors. He could hear the low murmur of voices beyond, the councilors whispering amongst themselves as they awaited his arrival. His presence here was inevitable, but it did nothing to ease the knot in his stomach.
He had never liked the court. The veiled looks, the hidden motives, the constant scheming beneath the surface—it was a world of shadows and false smiles, a place where trust was a rarity. He had spent years avoiding it, spending most of his time away from the capital, content to remain a shadow of the crown. But that time was over now.
Aleron took a steadying breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. His mother was dead, and with her, the last thread of stability in the kingdom seemed to have snapped. The Void had returned—whispers of its power were spreading through the courts—and no one knew what it truly was, or what it could do. The realm was on the brink of something far darker than any enemy it had ever faced.
He pushed open the doors.
The room fell silent at his entrance. Seated around the long stone table were the kingdom's most powerful figures: Lord Marius, the head of the council and his mother's most trusted advisor; Lady Serin, the fiery and ambitious daughter of one of the greatest noble houses; and several others whose names Aleron could not remember but whose faces were forever etched in the palace's intricate tapestries of power.
Lord Marius, a tall man with graying hair and a face lined with years of political maneuvering, stood first. He was the first to bow, his posture rigid but respectful. "Your Majesty," he said, his voice carrying the authority of someone who had long held power.
The others followed suit, though the respect in their eyes felt like a formality rather than genuine allegiance. Aleron could feel their eyes on him, weighing him, judging him. It was not the first time he had felt out of place among royalty, but now it was different. Now, he was no longer an observer—he was the king. And that realization hit him harder than any sword ever could.
He moved toward the empty seat at the head of the table, the chair carved with intricate designs of dragons and phoenixes—symbols of his family's strength. The chair that had once belonged to his mother, the queen, who had sat there with the authority of centuries behind her. He could feel the ghosts of his ancestors in the wood, their silent judgment on his every move.
"Thank you for gathering, my lords and ladies," Aleron said, his voice firmer than he felt. "I know this is a time of uncertainty, but we must work together to ensure the future of Varyath."
Lord Marius took his seat, his sharp eyes never leaving Aleron. "Indeed, Your Majesty. The kingdom is in mourning, and the people are unsettled. But we cannot afford to let grief cloud our judgment. There are matters of great importance that require our immediate attention."
Aleron met Marius's gaze, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "I understand," he replied, sitting down at the throne-like chair. "What is the first order of business?"
Lady Serin, a striking woman with dark hair and an aura of quiet ambition, spoke up. "The council has received troubling reports from the southern borders. There are rumors of increasing raids from the eastern tribes, and there are whispers of strange happenings in the north. The Void, Your Majesty. It is said to have returned, though no one knows exactly what it means. I believe we must take action before panic spreads further."
Aleron's breath caught in his throat at the mention of the Void. The shadows of his mother's words echoed in his mind—the prophecy, the prophecy that had haunted his family for generations. "The Void," he murmured, half to himself. "What does it want?"
"We do not know," Lady Serin continued, her voice steady but with a tinge of fear. "But the signs are undeniable. The land itself is changing. Crops are failing. Animals are dying. And worse, the people are beginning to lose faith in the crown."
Aleron leaned back in his chair, his fingers pressing against the cool wood of the table. His mind raced. The Void. It had been nothing more than an old tale whispered by the oldest of the royal scholars, a legend of an ancient darkness that threatened to devour the world. But now, it seemed to be more than that. It was real. And it was coming.
"We must gather information," Lord Marius said, his voice calm, though there was a glimmer of concern in his eyes. "Send scouts to the north, investigate the southern raids, and secure the borders. We cannot allow this threat to reach the heart of Varyath."
Aleron nodded, though he could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on him. This was his kingdom now, and the lives of his people rested in his hands. The Void, the unrest, the raids—they were just the beginning. The real challenge would be deciding how to act, whom to trust, and what price he would have to pay for the throne.
"We will act swiftly," Aleron said, his voice more certain now. "I will not let the kingdom fall into darkness. We will face the Void and its minions head-on."
There was a murmur of agreement around the table, though Aleron could sense the uncertainty in the room. His decision had been made, but he was not sure whether he was ready to face the coming storm.
Still, there was no turning back. The crown was his. And with it came the burden of a king's duty.