The Kingdom of Light
In the annals of history, there existed a kingdom so magnificent that bards wept when they sang of it, and children closed their eyes to dream of walking its golden streets. Verdantia—the Crown Jewel of the Eastern Continent, the Realm Where Sorrow Never Dwelled, the Kingdom Blessed by Heaven itself.
The morning sun painted the white marble spires in hues of amber and rose, casting long shadows across cobblestone streets that had never known the stain of blood. From the highest tower of the Crystal Palace, one could see the entirety of this earthly paradise: emerald fields that stretched to the horizon, vineyards heavy with fruit that tasted of liquid sunshine, and rivers so pure that even the angels were said to drink from them.
King Aldric Verdantia stood upon his balcony, his weathered hands gripping the ornate railing as he gazed out over his domain. Once, his heart had swelled with pride at this sight. Once, he had believed himself the most blessed ruler in all the world. But now, in the pre-dawn darkness, he saw only the shadows growing longer, creeping closer to his palace walls.
"The people gather in the squares again," whispered his advisor, a thin man whose eyes held the weight of terrible knowledge. "They whisper of the failed harvests, of the merchants who have fled, of the children who cry in the night."
Aldric closed his eyes. "How did it come to this, Gareth? How did paradise become a prison?"
It had not always been so. For seven generations, the Verdantia dynasty had ruled with wisdom and grace, guided by the prophecies of the Eternal Seer—an ancient woman whose visions had never once proven false. Under her guidance, they had avoided wars before they began, prevented famines through careful planning, and turned enemies into allies with words sweeter than honey.
The kingdom had grown from a small city-state into an empire that spanned three mountain ranges and two seas. Yet they had conquered not through force of arms, but through acts of such profound kindness that neighboring realms begged to join them. It was said that in Verdantia, even the criminals wept when they were pardoned, for they could not bear the shame of disappointing such a benevolent king.
But power, even when wielded with the purest intentions, has a way of corrupting the soul. As the years passed and the dynasty strengthened, humility gave way to pride. Compassion became condescension. The later kings still ruled justly, but they had forgotten that justice without mercy is merely cruelty dressed in finer clothes.
King Aldric was not an evil man, but neither was he good. He was a man who had inherited greatness and mistaken it for his own making. When the first signs of decay had appeared in his kingdom—the subtle rise in crime, the growing disparity between rich and poor, the way his subjects' smiles no longer reached their eyes—he had ignored them. After all, the Seer had always guided them before. The Seer would guide them again.
But the Seer was dying.
"My lord," Gareth's voice trembled. "She has asked to see you. She says... she says it is time for the final prophecy."
Aldric turned from the balcony, his royal robes heavy upon his shoulders. In the distance, he could hear the sound that had haunted his dreams for months: the desperate cries of his people, begging for deliverance from a doom they could not name but could feel approaching like winter's chill.
"Then let us not keep destiny waiting," he said, though his voice betrayed the fear that gnawed at his heart.
As they walked through the palace corridors—past tapestries that depicted the golden age now fading, past portraits of kings who had never known such despair—neither man spoke of what they both knew: that some prophecies are not gifts, but curses. Some truths are too terrible to bear.
And some kingdoms, no matter how bright they shine, are destined to burn.
The throne room doors loomed before them, carved with images of salvation and redemption. Beyond those doors waited the Seer, keeper of futures both blessed and damned. Beyond those doors waited words that would either save the Kingdom of Light...
Or ensure that it would never see another dawn.