Ethan's world had become a blur. The weight of his uncle's will still hung heavy on his shoulders, and the envelope Bartok had left with him was now sitting on his desk, staring back at him like an ominous reminder of the future he wasn't ready to face.
The sun had barely risen when Ethan had received his first call from the government of Veldoria. It was a strange, distant voice on the other end—one that spoke with the authority of someone who had spent their life in the corridors of power. The man introduced himself as General Eddard Vorn, a military leader from Veldoria, and he wasted no time getting to the point.
"Mr. Grayson," the voice had said, "your presence is urgently needed in Veldoria. The situation here has grown dire. The country is still recovering from the chaos left by the previous regime, and there are factions vying for power. We need you to step forward and take your place as king."
Ethan had frozen in shock, his breath caught in his throat. He had half-expected the call, knowing that someone from the government would eventually reach out to him, but hearing it was a reality he couldn't deny. He had no idea how to be a king. He barely knew how to balance his checkbook, let alone rule a country.
"I... I don't know if I can do this," he had whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm not prepared. I don't even know anything about ruling a country."
General Vorn's tone softened, though there was still a firm edge to it. "That is why you must come, Mr. Grayson. You may not be prepared, but the people of Veldoria are ready to follow you. We've waited long enough for leadership. If you refuse, we risk falling back into the hands of those who would take us backward."
The general's words echoed in Ethan's mind as he paced back and forth in his apartment. The pressure was mounting. Every second that passed felt like a ticking clock, reminding him that he couldn't ignore this for much longer.
After hanging up the phone, Ethan sat down in his armchair, staring out the window at the bustling city below. The thought of traveling to a foreign country, a place he knew nothing about, seemed impossible. He wasn't a politician or a military strategist. He was just a guy from San Francisco, trying to make ends meet.
But as much as he wanted to run away from the responsibility, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was no other choice. The people of Veldoria needed him. His uncle had left him with no other option.
Later that day, as the apartment became quieter, Ethan found himself standing in front of the mirror, examining the man staring back at him. He looked like anyone else, yet he now carried the weight of an entire nation on his shoulders. He was the heir to the throne of Veldoria, a country that had once been ruled by a brutal communist regime and was now in the process of rebuilding. It wasn't a position anyone would envy, but it was his. And whether he liked it or not, it was time to step up.
Ethan didn't know what he was supposed to do, but one thing was certain—he couldn't face this alone. He needed guidance. He needed someone who knew how to navigate the world of politics, diplomacy, and war. He needed someone like Hugo Bartok.
The advisor had been clear. He was there to help, but it would be Ethan's decision to make. The future of Veldoria depended on him, but he couldn't make those decisions without understanding what the country was facing.
Ethan grabbed his jacket and headed out the door. He had no intention of staying in San Francisco any longer. The world was calling, and he couldn't afford to ignore it.
---
The flight to Veldoria took several days, and during the long hours, Ethan's mind raced. He had read the history of the country, tried to familiarize himself with its culture, and learned about the political turmoil that had plagued the country for decades.
Veldoria was a land of contradictions. It was a country that had been forged by war, shaped by struggle, and scarred by years of brutal governance. The people had fought hard for their freedom, and now, they looked to Ethan to guide them into a new era.
As the plane descended toward the capital city, Ethan gazed out the window at the landscape below. The green mountains and sprawling forests gave way to a sprawling city that seemed a mix of old and new—a country caught between its past and its future.
The city of Taranis, the capital, was a blend of European influence and traditional Veldorian architecture. Towering glass buildings sat side by side with old stone structures, many of which had been rebuilt in the aftermath of the war. Despite the beauty of the landscape and the vibrancy of the city, there was an undeniable tension in the air. The country was still recovering from years of conflict, and the scars of the past were all too evident.
Ethan's flight landed smoothly, and as he stepped off the plane, the heat of the Veldorian sun hit him. He had no idea what to expect. The city was alive with activity, but it was also clear that the people were waiting for something—or someone.
He was escorted to a waiting car, and as they drove through the city streets, he couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. Veldoria's future rested in his hands, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for what lay ahead.
The car slowed as they approached a large, imposing building—the Royal Palace. The architecture was grand, yet the once-glorious structure now seemed weathered and faded. It stood as a symbol of both the country's turbulent history and the promise of a new future.
Ethan's heart raced as they pulled up to the entrance. He had no idea what to expect when he stepped inside, but he knew one thing for sure: everything was about to change.