Wind swept through the tall towers of Elyria, a city once known for its beauty, its music, and its peace. But today, the wind carried silence—not song.
The king was dead.
Not just the king—but his entire bloodline. In a single night, a mysterious fire consumed the royal palace. The Queen. The princes. Even the youngest daughter, barely four years old. Gone. Only ashes remained.
No one knew how it started. Some said it was the gods. Others whispered of poison or dark betrayal.
But whatever the truth, one thing was certain: Elyria was without a crown.
For the first time in five hundred years, the city had no ruler, no heir, no guidance.
The Royal Council gathered in haste. Twelve figures in deep robes sat around a circular stone table as torches flickered on the walls.
"This city cannot survive without a king," said Lord Carven, slamming his fist down. "We need order."
"We need trust," replied Lady Ilaira, the eldest on the council. "No noble house has claim to the throne. We must choose someone by merit."
Murmurs followed. Choose a king? From the common people?
That had never been done before. But desperate times demanded bold decisions.
So for seven days, the city watched as names were offered. Men of war, scholars, merchants. But one name rose more than others: Darian—a young commander from the borderlands. Honest. Steady.
Not rich, not noble, but respected.
And on the eighth day, the council gave him the crown.
The people gathered in the main square to watch the coronation. Darian wore no jewels, only armor dusted from battle. He looked up at the statue of the fallen king, then down at the crown that now sat in his hands.
Some cheered. Others stayed silent.
And at the edge of the crowd, one woman turned her back.
Lady Miranna, daughter of a high nobleman, had expected the council to choose her cousin. Or anyone from the noble bloodlines. But this? A soldier with no royal blood? An insult to the city's legacy.
"He is not our king," she hissed to herself. "And I will never bow to him."
As Darian knelt to take the oath, the sun broke through the clouds. But in Lady Miranna's heart, a darker storm had already begun.