The Kingdom Stands

The air was crisp with the scent of freshly cut timber and stone dust. Vaelthane was no longer a ruin.

The streets, once empty, now pulsed with life—merchants setting up stalls, craftsmen working tirelessly, families rebuilding homes. The clang of metal from the newly restored forge rang through the air, and the scent of warm bread drifted from the first bakery to open in years.

Kael watched it all from the palace steps. This was real.

But he knew it was only the beginning.

A Kingdom Draws Attention

Word had spread. A forgotten kingdom was rising, led by a swordsman who should have vanished into legend.

People came. Not just farmers and builders, but warriors, mercenaries, scholars, and exiles—all seeking something.

Some sought refuge. Others sought power.

And then there were those who came out of curiosity.

Rhia was among the first to notice them. "More riders at the gates," she murmured, watching from a high tower. "Not enemies. But not just travelers, either."

Kael frowned. "Who?"

Fenir, standing nearby, crossed her arms. "People who want to know if the Forgotten King is worth following."

Kael said nothing. But the weight of their gazes—both his people's and those beyond the gates—settled on his shoulders.

He hadn't just rebuilt a kingdom. He had made it impossible to ignore.

The First Alliances

Kael met with the newcomers personally.

Among them were:

A merchant lord seeking to establish trade routes, eyeing Vaelthane's growing strength with interest.

A wandering swordswoman who had fought in the old wars and wished to see if this kingdom was worthy of her blade.

An emissary from a distant land, offering diplomacy… or testing the waters for something more.

Kael listened. He made no grand declarations, no false promises. But he made one thing clear—Vaelthane would not fall again.

The merchant stayed. The swordswoman swore her blade. And the emissary? He left with a message to his kingdom's ruler—Vaelthane was rising.

A Bond That Refuses to Be Ignored

That night, Kael found Fenir standing by the outer walls, watching the stars.

He almost turned away.

But before he could, she said, "You're building something great. Something worth protecting."

Kael leaned against the wall beside her. "I know."

The silence stretched between them. Heavy. Charged.

Then—that whisper again.

"Mate."

Kael's fingers curled into fists. He would not give in to this. Not now.

Fenir's breath hitched—she had heard it too.

But she said nothing. Instead, she smirked, masking whatever war raged inside her.

"Try not to get yourself killed, 'King.'"

And like that she left.