The palace halls of Vaelor had never been so quiet.
Prince Kaelen strode through the marble
corridors, past towering pillars and stained-glass windows depicting the glories of kings before him. Warriors, heroes, rulers—each of them had worn the Ashen Crown. Each of them had proven themselves worthy.
But Kaelen had not.He clenched his fists as he neared the king's chambers. Two royal guards stood outside, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. They glanced at him, then stepped aside, pushing the great oak doors open.Inside, the air was thick with the scent of herbs and burning incense. His father, King Alden, lay upon the great bed of their ancestors, his skin as pale as the sheets draped over him. Once, Alden had been a man of iron—his sword had carved peace into the bones of Vaelor's enemies. Now, he was fading.Kaelen swallowed hard. He had never been good at speaking of sorrow.
"Father." His voice was hoarse.
King Alden's eyelids flickered, and for a moment, he seemed to stir from whatever restless dreams had taken hold of him. His gaze, clouded with age, found his son. A faint smile touched his lips.
"Kaelen." The king's voice was barely a whisper. "Have they… have they forced you to wear the crown yet?"Kaelen tensed. They had not. And that was the problem.
The Ashen Crown, the symbol of Vaelor's rule, could not simply be placed on a ruler's head. It had to be claimed. Chosen. The land itself would decide if one was worthy. Without it, Kaelen's claim to the throne was nothing more than a hopeful wish.And if he failed to retrieve it, the nobles would turn to Vaelin.
His father saw the hesitation in his eyes and let out a soft, tired breath. "You must go, Kaelen."Kaelen knew it, too. If he did not claim the crown, his cousin Lord Vaelin would take the throne instead. Vaelin—his father's brother's son—had been circling like a wolf since the king had fallen ill. Vaelin had fought in wars. He had the support of half the noble houses. And he had always made it clear that he considered Kaelen too soft to rule.
Kaelen clenched his jaw. "If I fail—""You won't."His father's faith should have given him comfort. Instead, it felt like a weight on his shoulders.Kaelen knelt beside the bed. "What if the land does not choose me?"
His father did not answer right away. When he finally spoke, his voice was little more than a whisper."Then you were never meant to rule."
Kaelen bowed his head. His father was right. The land had chosen every ruler of Vaelor since the first king. If he was not chosen, it would mean that the kingdom itself had rejected him.But he had no choice but to try.
"I will return with the crown," Kaelen swore.
His father's eyes flickered closed again. "Then I will hold on until you do."
Kaelen left the chamber with his decision made. Tomorrow, he would set out for the Ashen Crown.
The Road to the CrownThe journey would not be easy. The Ashen Crown rested atop the Obsidian Spire, a ruin hidden deep within the Veilwood, a cursed forest where magic still ran wild. Few who entered the Veilwood ever returned.Kaelen did not intend to fail.But he would not go alone.
That night, as the castle halls grew dark, Kaelen found himself in a shadowed alcove near the training grounds. There, waiting beneath a stone archway, stood a figure in a dark cloak."You're late," the man muttered.
Kaelen crossed his arms. "I was saying farewell to my father."
The man—Lorien—snorted. "A waste of time. If you don't return with the crown, he'll be dead soon anyway."
Kaelen tensed but did not rise to the bait. He had known Lorien long enough to understand that he was not unkind, only practical.
Lorien had been a mage of the royal court once. That had ended the day the king's advisors discovered he dabbled in magic that should not have been touched. Magic that bound itself to blood and shadows. They had nearly executed him, but Kaelen had spoken in his defense. Now, he owed Kaelen his life.
"You're certain you want to do this?" Kaelen asked.Lorien scoffed. "I don't want to do anything. But I owe you. And besides—this will be entertaining."
Kaelen sighed. He had little love for Lorien's sharp tongue, but he knew he would need him. The Veilwood was filled with magic, and Kaelen was no mage.
"Then we leave at dawn," Kaelen said.
Lorien smirked. "Try not to die before then, Prince."
The Shadows of Vaelin
Kaelen made his way back toward his chambers, but he did not make it far before he heard voices. Low, quiet—the kind that did not wish to be heard.
He slowed his steps. He was near the council chamber, a room where the noble houses met in times of crisis. The door was slightly open.
Kaelen stepped closer.Inside, seated at the long stone table, was Lord Vaelin. Surrounded by nobles.
Kaelen's fingers curled into fists. He had no love for his cousin. Vaelin was too smooth, too polished, his every word a blade hidden beneath silk. And yet, the nobles listened to him."We cannot afford to wait," Vaelin was saying. His voice was calm and reasonable. Dangerous. "The king grows weaker every day. And his son?" He let out a low chuckle. "He rides to his death tomorrow."
Kaelen's pulse pounded."We must be ready," Vaelin continued. "When Kaelen fails, the kingdom will turn to me. We will not wait for the land to be chosen. We will act. Valor cannot afford to be leaderless."
A noble hesitated. "If Kaelen returns with the crown—"Vaelin smiled. "He won't."
Kaelen had heard enough.
He stepped away from the door, his heart hammering. This was not just ambition. This was treason.Vaelin had already decided the outcome. And if Kaelen failed, he would take the throne by force.
Kaelen exhaled slowly, steadying himself. He had always known that Vaelin coveted the crown. Now, he knew that his cousin would stop at nothing to claim it.
Then I will not fail, Kaelen thought. I will not give him that chance.
Tomorrow, he would ride for the Ashen Crown. He would face the trials of the Veilwood, the storms of the Obsidian Spire.
And he would return as king.