61.The Fractured Kingdom

Veldrith.

Once a kingdom of wisdom and power, it now stood in ruins—its greatness shattered, its people divided. As Ashen and Seren crossed the ancient bridge leading to the capital, their eyes took in the grim scene. The city's once-proud walls, built to withstand both time and war, now lay cracked and weathered. Smoke rose from different districts, evidence of recent skirmishes.

The streets bustled with life, but not the kind one would expect from a thriving kingdom. Instead of merchants and scholars, the roads were filled with mercenaries, warbands, and desperate common folk. Refugees huddled under broken archways, their gazes hollow. Armed guards bearing different faction banners patrolled aggressively, ready to enforce their ruler's will at a moment's notice.

Seren pulled her hood over her silver hair. The air was thick with tension, and she could feel the weight of unseen eyes tracking their movements.

"This place is barely holding together," she murmured.

Ashen nodded grimly. "It's worse than I imagined."

Rumors had reached them long before their arrival—tales of a kingdom torn apart after its battle with the Void, now ruled by four rival monarchs, each claiming to be the true heir. Each faction controlled a portion of Veldrith's capital, but their rule extended to the lands beyond as well, where loyal vassals and warlords continued the fight for dominance.

For Ashen and Seren, the task ahead was clear: end the conflict before Veldrith destroyed itself completely.

But in a land of fractured loyalties, where ancient secrets lay buried beneath the ruins, that would be easier said than done.

The Monarchs of Veldrith

The heart of the city, known as the Ivory Keep, had once been the seat of power for Veldrith's rulers. Now, it was divided into four separate courts, each occupied by a different monarch.

A heavily armed escort led Ashen and Seren into the keep's central hall, where a grand war table dominated the chamber. Its surface was carved with the old map of Veldrith, though now it bore deep scratches and recent markings, showing the kingdom's broken state.

The four monarchs were already waiting for them.

At the head of the table, sitting upon a high-backed iron throne, was King Darius Velcor. Tall, broad-shouldered, and battle-scarred, he radiated the presence of a hardened warlord. His faction, the Ironclad Dominion, ruled with military strength, enforcing order through force. He had the largest army and believed that only through absolute conquest could Veldrith be united again.

To his left, draped in robes of dark purple, sat Queen Lirien Vael. A powerful sorceress, her eyes gleamed with intelligence and hidden motives. As the ruler of the Arcane Sanctum, she commanded Veldrith's last remaining magical academies. She sought to restore the kingdom through the mastery of magic, but her obsession with forbidden knowledge made her a dangerous ally.

Across from her, standing rather than sitting, was Prince Kaelen Drayth, leader of the Dawn Rebellion. Young, passionate, and idealistic, he was the last surviving heir of Veldrith's original royal bloodline—or so he claimed. Unlike the others, he did not believe in war, but rather in diplomacy, justice, and reform. His faction was the weakest, but he had the people's support.

Finally, seated in the shadows at the far end of the chamber, was Lady Syra Vaelthorn, ruler of the Silent Blades, a network of assassins, spies, and underground mercenaries. Cloaked in black and silver, her sharp, calculating gaze never wavered. No one knew her true origins, but her faction controlled the city's underworld, manipulating information and striking from the shadows.

Tension filled the room as Ashen and Seren stepped forward.

King Darius was the first to speak. His deep voice echoed across the chamber. "I assume you did not come here simply to watch a kingdom tear itself apart."

Seren met his gaze without flinching. "No. We came because your war is weakening Veldrith further. If this continues, the kingdom will not have the strength to survive what comes next."

Queen Lirien smirked. "And what exactly do you claim is coming?"

Ashen's voice was firm. "The Void's influence may have been driven back, but it was never truly destroyed. Its remnants still linger beneath the surface."

The room fell into a tense silence.

Prince Kaelen was the only one who looked concerned. "You speak as if the Void still has a foothold here."

Seren nodded. "It does."

She reached into her satchel, pulling out a weathered parchment—a piece of an ancient document they had recovered in their journey. She laid it on the table, its surface etched with an old royal sigil.

"This is a record from centuries ago," she explained. "It speaks of a pact made between Veldrith's first rulers and the Void itself."

The air in the room grew colder.

Queen Lirien's expression darkened. "Impossible. Veldrith fought against the Void, not alongside it."

Seren shook her head. "History remembers what it is told. The truth is far more complicated."

She turned her gaze to the monarchs, her words deliberate.

"The first kings of Veldrith did not merely fight the Void. They bargained with it."

A sharp intake of breath. Even King Darius frowned.

Seren continued, "The Void's influence was woven into your kingdom's very foundation. And it left behind something far worse than ruins and war."

Lady Syra's voice was barely above a whisper. "A bloodline curse."

Seren nodded.

A dark inheritance that had been passed down through the generations, hidden beneath royal seals and forgotten oaths.

And if the curse was still active, that meant—

"One of us," Prince Kaelen whispered, realization dawning in his eyes, "is still bound to the Void's power."

The air in the chamber grew heavy with suspicion.

Seren knew what would happen next.

The kingdom's greatest war was no longer just for power.

It was now a hunt—for the last heir of the Void's curse.

And if they failed to find the true traitor, Veldrith would fall into darkness once more.