Visions of a fallen crown

Arandor had always been known as the kingdom of calm rivers and golden fields. Songs were written about its peace. Travelers spoke of its gentle air. Children grew up without fear of raids or hunger. Queen Seraphina often said the kingdom breathed like a living thing. Slow. Steady. Warm. But peace never lasts forever. Trouble began at the eastern border. Small at first. A missing sheep. A burned field. Footprints that did not belong to the villagers. Then the attacks grew bold. Entire farms were set ablaze. Storage barns collapsed under fire. Livestock disappeared in the night. Farmers returned from the river to find their homes trampled and their grain scattered in the dust. These were no accidents. They were warnings. They were invitations to war. Every whisper pointed to one name. Lord Cassian. Ruler of the neighboring Kargath Territory. A man known for ambition and cruelty. A man who had always hated Arandor’s peace. A man who wanted more land. More power. More control. One morning a messenger arrived at the palace gates, breathless and trembling. He carried a scroll marked with Cassian’s black seal. Inside was a single message. Prepare for battle. Seraphina’s fingers had gone cold as she read it. Even before she finished the words she knew war had arrived at their door. The palace erupted into motion. Servants rushed through halls with baskets of supplies. Squires hurried to polish armor and sharpen swords. Blacksmiths worked day and night as sparks lit the courtyard like falling stars. The royal stables grew restless as war horses pawed the ground sensing tension in the air. King Eric watched everything with eyes sharpened by duty. He stood tall despite the weight on his shoulders. His commanders gathered around maps and discussed strategy late into the night. Every corner of the palace hummed with urgency. Yet in the center of all that movement Seraphina felt stillness. Heavy. Fearful. Like standing on a cliff before a storm. She found Eric in his war chamber early in the morning. The windows were open, letting in the soft glow of dawn. Eric stood beside the armor stand, his battle armor gleaming in the pale light. The chestplate bore the royal crest. The cape hung proudly behind it. He reached for one of the gauntlets and ran his thumb across the polished metal. He looked like a man ready for war. Ready to defend his people. Ready to face anything. Seraphina stood at the doorway and watched him for a long moment. She wanted to memorize him like this. Strong. Determined. Alive. Eric turned when he sensed her presence. His expression softened. He walked toward her and took her hands in his. His touch was warm but his eyes held a question. A worry. A fear that matched hers. You did not sleep Seraphina said quietly. Eric smiled in that tired way she hated. The way he smiled whenever he tried to hide how heavy the crown felt. There is work to do. Cassian has left us no choice. Seraphina shook her head. Her throat tightened. Eric listen to me. The kingdom needs you here. Let the generals lead the army. You do not have to ride with them. Eric released a soft breath and cupped her cheek. My love. I am their king. A king who hides behind palace walls while his soldiers bleed is not worthy of the throne. Her heart twisted painfully. I am not asking you to hide. I am asking you to stay alive. Kings are not meant to lead every charge. That is why you have commanders. Eric turned away and picked up his sword. The blade caught the sunlight in a cold shimmer. Cassian burns our farms and steals our people. If I stay behind he will see it as weakness. He will keep attacking. He will not stop until everything we love is ash and dust. Seraphina stepped closer. Please. Let the army go. You can guide them from here. If you fall what happens to Arandor. To me. He froze at her last words. For a heartbeat the strong king vanished and the man she loved stood in his place. The man who held her when she laughed. The man who kissed her forehead every morning. The man who dreamed of giving the kingdom an heir one day. He rested his forehead against hers. His breath trembled. Seraphina. I must do this. Tears filled her eyes. Must you truly Eric kissed her knuckles. When I return we will restore peace together. But Seraphina felt the coldness of fate wrap around her spine. Something inside her whispered that once he stepped onto that battlefield something would change forever. Still the kingdom demanded its king. As the sun climbed the sky the palace courtyard filled with knights in rows. Their armor glistened. Banners flapped high above them. Horses lined the path leading to the gates. The air buzzed with tense energy. Seraphina walked beside Eric as he approached his horse. Each step felt like a stone dragging her heart downward. Commander Rowan saluted. The troops are ready Your Majesty. Eric nodded and placed his foot in the stirrup. Seraphina grabbed his arm before he mounted. Eric. Look at me. He turned. Her voice broke. Come back to me. He brushed her tears with the back of his gloved hand. Always. He mounted his horse but Seraphina did not release his cape until the horse began to move. She watched him join the front line. She watched the gates creak open. She watched the army begin their march. The sound of boots and hooves thundered across the stone. Dust rose behind them. The banners of Arandor fluttered like phoenix wings. Eric raised his sword. For Arandor Voices roared back. For Arandor Seraphina stood tall until the last soldier disappeared beyond the hill. Only when silence returned did her body sway. Lady Miriam rushed forward to support her but Seraphina barely felt her hands. Her gaze remained fixed on the empty road. Her heart whispered the truth she feared. War had begun. And something dark was marching with it.