Echoes of a kingdom

The morning air was thick with the scent of rain and stone. Kael stood atop the ruined steps of the citadel, gazing down at what remained of Vaelthane. The once-proud kingdom was a ghost of itself—crumbling towers, shattered roads, homes overtaken by vines and time. Yet beneath the decay, there was still something alive.

The people had gathered before him—survivors, wanderers, those who had clung to the broken city even after its fall. Their faces were etched with uncertainty, hope flickering like embers behind their eyes.

Kael took a deep breath, then spoke.

"No more waiting." His voice carried across the ruins, firm, unyielding. "No more hiding in the shadows of the past. Vaelthane will rise again. And we will build it together."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Some exchanged glances, hesitant. Others—those who had known nothing but survival—stepped forward.

"You want us to rebuild?" an elder asked. "With what?"

Kael lifted his chin. "With our hands, our strength. With stone and fire, with whatever we have. This kingdom was never just walls and towers—it was the people. And if we stand together, we can make it more than it ever was."

Silence.

Then, slowly, a voice called out. "I'll start." A young man, no older than twenty, strode forward. "I won't live in ruins anymore."

Another followed. Then another. Until, one by one, hands lifted, voices rising in agreement.

Kael felt something settle inside him—not a throne's command, but a leader's purpose.

But as the people moved, gathering tools, clearing debris, a shadowed whisper coiled in his ear.

"You think you can build, little wolf? What will you do when they come to tear it all down?"

Kael stiffened. His bond with the shadow still pulsed inside him, restless. Watching. Waiting.

And just behind him, Fenir stood silent, her silver eyes unreadable.

She knew something.