Chapter 19 Present day- Forgotten Crown
456 Words
Twelve years had passed since the twins crossed the Veil and vanished into the portal. Time did not flow the same in the Ancient Kingdom. It moved like water caught between two tides—sometimes fast, sometimes still, always watching.
Kaelen and Lioren had grown into warriors, legends whispered through the wind-carved halls of the long-forgotten empire. Their arrival had awakened a world sealed in sleep—a land of golden towers, skybridges suspended in starlight, and dragons that slumbered beneath obsidian cliffs.
Now, the brothers stood before the Gate of Echoes, a monument older than blood.
“Are you ready?” Lioren asked, his voice calm despite the fire in his eyes.
Kaelen unsheathed his katana, a blade folded from moon-metal and bound with his soul. “If we don’t bring them back now, we never will.”
Lioren nodded, drawing his weapon of choice—a long blackbow strung with shadow-wire, arrows carved from phoenix bone. “Then let’s begin.”
They stepped onto the special route—a shimmering corridor of starlight called the Path of Return, open only to blood heirs of the empire. As their feet met the light, the sky trembled.
Behind them, a black wind screamed.
The darkness was following. Head to head. Step for step.
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As they moved deeper, visions swirled in the air—memories not their own. Battles of the First Wolves. The fall of the Crystal Citadel. The betrayal of the Thirteenth Prince.
“They’re showing us everything,” Kaelen whispered.
“They’re testing us,” Lioren corrected, nocking an arrow. “Let them try.”
The path split into three.
“Choose the correct one,” a voice boomed, ancient and low. “Only the heart remembers the way.”
Kaelen closed his eyes, letting his bond guide him.
He stepped left.
Lioren followed.
The middle path exploded in shadow.
They ran.
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Creatures emerged behind them—black hounds with white-hot eyes, dripping void from their jaws.
Lioren turned and let fly a volley. Each arrow struck like thunder, pinning beasts to air itself.
Kaelen leapt from stone to stone, slicing through a screamer that lunged too close. His blade pulsed, a wolf howling within.
The path narrowed. The gates loomed ahead—carved with their family crest: the Moonbound Sigil.
They placed their palms on the door.
It opened.
And the Ancient Kingdom greeted its heirs.
Sunlight unlike any other poured out. Mountains rose like gods in slumber. Cities in the sky blinked awake. The Empire of Vaerinth had returned.
But even in welcome, something stirred beneath the soil.
The darkness had followed.
This time, it would not wait twelve more years.
This time… it wanted the throne.
(To be continued)
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