The Hidden Crown

"Before the boy, there was only silence. Before the silence, there was a lie."

12 Years Ago Beneath the Royal Citadel

The night the empire celebrated its 700th year of power, one woman was locked away beneath its golden towers in the deepest cell, behind ten layers of runed iron and silence spells.

She wore no crown.

Only a torn gown of starlight silk, and on her wrists chains forged in dragonbone.

Her name was Ilyra.

Not a queen.

Not a noble.

Not even registered by name in the empire's histories.

But the emperor once called her his soul.

She had vanished from records after the prince's birth.

Rumors said she'd died.

Others said she was a traitor.

But on that cursed night she gave birth, alone in the dark.

To him.

"Aelios," she whispered, holding the child to her chest.

"You are not born of crown or court. You are born of light… and fire."

Outside the cell, a shadow listened.

The man who once loved her Vael IX, the emperor himself stood hidden, cloaked by guilt and the Veil's demands.

He had signed her imprisonment.

He had betrayed her to keep the throne.

But now he heard the cries of his second son a son whose very existence violated every law of bloodline and power.

And he turned away.

The Veil took the child that night, intending to burn him before the sun rose.

But the fire refused him.

And the ashes they found the next morning… were not his.

Present Day Ruins of the First Citadel

Aelios awoke gasping his dreams still burning with screams and stars.

The shard in his palm glowed it had shown him the past.

His origin.

His truth.

His mother.

Alive?

Somewhere in chains, perhaps. Or worse made into a weapon by the Veil.

He rose. His hands clenched.

"They buried a crown inside me," he said to the ruins.

"Now I wear it not on my head… but in my fire."

From the stone floor, glyphs began to rise floating, humming, bending to his will.

The ruins stirred.

And in the wind came voices of long-dead kings:

"We see you, lost heir.

We see your fire.

Claim your name, or die forgotten."

Meanwhile, in the Capital…

The first prince was already preparing war.

The nobles were choosing sides.

The Veil had activated the Ash Seekers hunter-mages who never failed.

But one figure moved in silence a girl with silver eyes and a blade that fed on memory.

Seren.

She was raised by the Veil to be perfect. To feel nothing.

But in her dreams… she saw the boy.

The one who had stopped time. Broken law. Saved a child.

And something inside her something long forgotten began to feel.