Blanc_Dragon

In the year 2025, a curious linguist named Liam Routh discovers an ancient, untitled book hidden deep within the archives of a massive private library. Bound in leather and sealed with a forgotten symbol—a sun pierced by three arrows—the book claims to hold the true story of Kael of No-Name, a boy erased from his powerful family line over four thousand years ago.

As Liam begins to read, the air shifts. The ink glows. And suddenly, he’s not just reading the story—he’s living it.

Transported to a time of ruthless warlords, forgotten gods, and wild desert lands, Liam follows the audacious journey of Kael: a castaway prince turned rebel dreamer who escapes his tyrannical bloodline to forge a kingdom of laughter, love, and freedom in a land untouched by empire.

With a band of misfits by his side—including a drunk who thinks he’s royalty, a seductive thief, and a spear-wielding queen—Kael dares to challenge fate, conquer chaos, and rewrite history.

But kingdoms built on ideals are often the first to be tested by war.

Kingdom Of The Forgotten Sun

That's all Kael could see as they rode across the dunes—his riders kicking up a wall of golden dust, their war cries howling louder than the winds. The city of Aratek shimmered in the distance, a jewel of marble towers and iron gates surrounded by walls so tall they touched the morning haze.

Kael pulled his cloak tighter around him as they approached the first range of fire. Arrows loosed from the battlements like black rain. But his riders did not scatter.

Like a single beast, the front line lifted their bronze-forged shields overhead. The sky clattered with death.

Bresh appeared beside him, grinning like a lunatic. "You sure about this part of the plan?"

"No," Kael replied, "but it'll look incredible if it works."

As they neared the outer wall, Kael raised a flaming spear and hurled it toward the eastern tower.

Behind them, the second wave broke formation—and from it emerged the sand-sleds: fast, wheeled platforms rigged with ropes and oil-soaked tarps. The sleds caught wind from the rigged canopies and surged forward, trailing fire as they struck the base of the city walls.

The eastern gates shuddered. Flame licked up their frame.

From the cliffs, a hidden regiment of his best climbers—led by Vireya herself—descended the back wall with grappling hooks. Their movements were swift, deadly, silent. In less than a minute, a portion of the gatehouse was under Kael's control.

From above, a horn sounded—a signal to the people of Aratek. A horn that hadn't blown in a hundred years.

And the citizens of Aratek... welcomed him.

"What in the hells—?" Bresh muttered.

Kael dismounted, stunned. The Eastern Houses had fled in the night. And the people, oppressed and taxed into ruin, had risen.

An old man stepped forward, tears in his eyes. "You are Kael of the Broken Chain. The free prince. We've been waiting for you."

The man nodded. "There was a prophecy. One written in the old tongue. About a man who came from the desert not to conquer—but to unshackle."

Vireya landed beside him, blood on her blade, eyes wide. "You just won a city... without actually fighting for it."

Kael laughed, breathless. "Not entirely true. But I'll take the victory."

That night, the fires burned across Aratek—but they were celebratory. Food, wine, music. The rebels danced in the marble streets. Kael stood atop the citadel wall, overlooking his new city, his people.

He turned to Vireya. "I didn't expect this."

"No one ever expects a miracle," she said, smiling.

Then, from the far edge of the crowd, a stranger appeared. Cloaked in black and red, they didn't smile. They simply stared at Kael with eyes like twin obsidians.

Volund stood beside them, eating a fig.

"Well," he said. "This is going to get interesting."

Chapter Twenty-One – The Siege of Aratek