The Wildwood thinned as the sun crested the horizon, its rays slanting through the last of the ancient trees. Beyond the forest's edge, the land opened into rolling meadows, dotted with wildflowers and the crumbling remains of old watchtowers. The air was fresher here, the sky wider, but the sense of unease lingered—like a shadow that would not lift.
Kael led the way, the ember's warmth steady against his chest. Each step away from the Wildwood felt lighter, but he could not shake the memory of the shadow-beasts or the power that had surged through him. The others walked in silence, each lost in thought.
Lira broke the quiet first. "We're close to the old king's road. If we follow it east, we'll reach Valenhold by nightfall—if we're lucky."
Thalen snorted, brushing a stray lock of hair from his eyes. "Luck hasn't exactly been our companion so far."
Lira shot him a wry smile. "Then we'll make do with skill."
The road, when they found it, was little more than a strip of broken cobblestones, half-swallowed by grass and weeds. Here and there, old milestones jutted from the earth, their inscriptions worn by time. Kael ran his fingers over one, tracing the faded sigil of a crown. It was the same symbol as his pendant, the same as the ember's mark.
He glanced at Lira. "What do you know of Valenhold?"
She hesitated, her eyes distant. "It's my home. Or it was. My mother rules there—the Queen. But the court is full of vipers. Trust is rare, and secrets are currency. If the Shadow King's influence has reached that far…" She trailed off, her jaw set.
Thalen grinned, though his eyes were wary. "Sounds delightful. Remind me to keep my head down."
Lira's lips twitched. "You'd better. Magic is forbidden in Valenhold. Even whispers of it can get you thrown in the dungeons."
Thalen's smile faded. "Noted."
They pressed on, the road winding through meadows and groves of wind-twisted oaks. As the day wore on, the land grew more cultivated—fields of barley and rye, orchards heavy with fruit, and the distant shapes of farmhouses. Yet even here, signs of unrest were everywhere: fences broken, crops left untended, and the occasional column of smoke rising from a burned-out barn.
Kael's heart tightened. "The war's touched even here."
Lira nodded, her voice low. "The Shadow King's agents sow chaos wherever they can. Bandits, mercenaries, traitors—no one knows who to trust."
A shout echoed from ahead, sharp and panicked. The trio froze, exchanging glances. Kael gripped his hammer, Lira drew her sword, and Thalen's fingers sparked with nervous magic.
They crept forward, keeping low behind a tumble of stones. In the road ahead, a merchant's wagon lay overturned, its contents scattered. Three men in ragged armor circled it, swords drawn, while a fourth—a burly figure with a cruel smile—hauled a young woman from the wreckage.
"Please!" she cried, struggling. "Let me go!"
The leader laughed, raising his blade. "Should've paid the toll, girl."
Kael felt anger flare in his chest. He looked at Lira, who nodded grimly.
They moved as one. Lira darted forward, sword flashing. Kael followed, swinging his hammer in a wide arc. Thalen hung back, muttering a spell under his breath.
The first bandit fell to Lira's blade before he could react. Kael's hammer caught the second in the chest, sending him sprawling. The third turned, raising his sword, but Thalen's magic struck him like a bolt of blue lightning, knocking him senseless.
The leader released the girl, turning to run, but Lira was faster. She tackled him, pressing her blade to his throat.
"Enough," she hissed. "Drop your weapon."
The man's sword clattered to the stones. Kael hurried to the girl's side, helping her to her feet.
"Thank you," she gasped, brushing dust from her dress. "They came out of nowhere—said they were collecting taxes for the new king."
Kael frowned. "There is no new king."
The girl's eyes darted to Lira, then to Thalen. "That's what I thought. But they had this—" She held up a scrap of black cloth, embroidered with a silver crown.
Lira's face paled. "The Shadow King's mark."
Thalen knelt, examining the cloth. "He's moving faster than we thought. If his agents are this close to Valenhold…"
Kael looked at the merchant's wagon, its goods spilled and ruined. "We should get you to safety."
The girl shook her head. "My family's farm is just over the hill. I can make it from here. Thank you, truly."
Lira nodded, her gaze hard. "Stay off the road. And warn your neighbors—the Shadow King's reach is long."
As the girl hurried away, Kael turned to his companions. "We can't let this happen. Not here. Not anywhere."
Lira sheathed her sword. "That's why we're going to Valenhold. If we can rally my mother's support, we might stand a chance."
Thalen looked east, where the sun was beginning to dip behind the hills. "Let's move. The sooner we're inside the city walls, the better."
They set off again, the road growing busier as they neared the city. Farmers, merchants, and refugees trudged along, their faces drawn and wary. Rumors buzzed in the air—of raids, of disappearances, of dark riders seen at dusk.
As the sun set, the walls of Valenhold rose before them—tall and imposing, crowned with banners of gold and crimson. The gates were crowded with travelers, and armed guards watched every movement with suspicion.
Lira pulled her hood low, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let me do the talking. And Thalen—hide your magic."
He nodded, tucking his hands into his sleeves.
They joined the line at the gate, hearts pounding. When their turn came, a guard stepped forward, his eyes sharp.
"Names. Business in the city."
Lira met his gaze, her voice calm. "Lira Valen. I'm returning home, with my companions. We seek audience with the Queen."
The guard's eyes widened, and he bowed hastily. "Your Highness. Forgive me—I did not recognize you. Please, enter. The Queen will want to see you at once."
They passed through the gates, the city unfolding before them—a maze of narrow streets, bustling markets, and towering spires. The air was thick with the scents of baking bread, roasting meat, and the ever-present tang of fear.
Kael stared in awe. He had never seen a city so grand, nor one so tense. Soldiers patrolled every corner, and whispers followed them as they made their way toward the palace.
Inside the palace gates, Lira led them through marble halls and echoing chambers. Servants bowed as she passed, and Kael felt the weight of a hundred curious eyes.
At last, they reached the throne room—a vast chamber of polished stone, lit by a hundred flickering torches. At its far end sat a woman in regal armor, her hair silvered by age but her posture proud and unyielding.
Lira stepped forward, bowing deeply. "Mother."
Queen Maelis rose, her gaze sharp. "Lira. You return at last."
Lira straightened, her voice steady. "I bring news, and allies. The Shadow King's reach grows. We must unite, or all is lost."
The Queen's eyes swept over Kael and Thalen, lingering on the ember at Kael's chest. For a moment, the room was silent.
Then, softly, the Queen spoke. "Welcome, travelers. Eldoria stands on the brink. Tell me—what hope do you bring?"
Kael met her gaze, feeling the ember's warmth surge within him. "We bring the light of the Ember Crown. And a promise—that darkness will not have the last word."
The Queen's lips curved into a faint, hopeful smile. "Then let us see if hope can still burn, even in the shadow of war."