Every throne is built from the bones of the last dreamer who believed it could change the world.
The sky had closed. The palace of bone had vanished. But the fire had not.
Vaelryn stood at the edge of the floating platform, eyes glowing like twin suns beneath a storm-choked sky. The void trembled around her, no longer a place of gods, but of judgment.
Kael knelt behind her, catching his breath. His sword was shattered—broken not by steel, but by choice.
"Where now?" he asked, voice hoarse.
"To the thrones," Vaelryn said.
"There are more?"
"Always." She turned slowly. "Thrones multiply like rot. And every one demands blood."
**_The Map of the Dead_**
The air shifted. A parchment formed from ash spiraled from the wind and landed in her hand. Ancient, scorched at the edges, the Map of the Dead.
Each throne was marked not by a crown—but by a symbol of betrayal:
A chained heart
A shattered halo
A dragon devouring its tail
A sword dipped in ink
Kael moved beside her. "These aren't kingdoms. They're prisons."
Vaelryn nodded. "The gods never ruled. They caged."
"Which one holds the next truth?"
"The City of Dusk."
She reached into the fire curling at her waist and pulled out a sliver of glass—the last piece of her memory shard. When it caught the wind, it pointed southeast. Toward smoke. Toward rot. Toward a city that never saw sunrise.
"That is where the throne of chains waits. And the one who wears it."
"Who?"
"My sister."
**_The Queen in Chains_**
The City of Dusk was a broken monument. Towers leaned like drunk skeletons. The sun refused to rise here. Fog clung to the bones of buildings, and the air tasted like forgotten names.
As they entered, Kael kept his hand close to his dagger—though it wouldn't help. Shadows moved differently here. Light bled sideways. And whispers clung to their backs.
At the center of the city stood a spiral tower made of rusted iron, wrapped in thorns of bone.
"Home," Vaelryn whispered. "Before it all fell."
The doors opened for her before she touched them.
Inside, seated on a throne built from her own ribs, was a woman with skin like porcelain and hair like spilled ink.
"Hello, sister," the woman said. Her voice echoed like a lullaby in a crypt.
Vaelryn did not bow. "Lilaxis."
The Queen in Chains smiled. "You're not dead anymore. That's unfortunate."
**_The Sister's Betrayal_**
Lilaxis rose. Her chains slithered behind her like pets. She circled the throne room slowly, eyes never leaving Vaelryn.
"You remember how they begged me to bind you? How they promised I'd be their Flame Heir if I turned you in?"
"You weren't chosen," Vaelryn said. "You were useful."
"And now?"
"You're in my way."
The throne room darkened.
**_FLASH—_**
Memories hit: Lilaxis weeping as she forged Vaelryn's chains. Kael watching from a distance. The gods celebrating. A crown of bone pressed onto Lilaxis's head.
**_FLASH—_**
Back in the present, Kael stood ready. But Vaelryn lifted her hand.
"This is my fire to reclaim."
**_Trial of the Sisters_**
The throne cracked as Lilaxis stepped off it. Her arms ignited—not with flame, but with chain-magic: violet coils of restraint and silence.
"You want your throne back? Prove you're not the monster they still whisper about."
"No," Vaelryn said. "I'll prove I am."
The sisters collided.
Chain met flame.
Steel met bone.
Memory met fury.
Lilaxis hissed: "You burned cities."
Vaelryn roared: "You buried them."
Kael tried to intervene—but the throne itself held him back, a ring of bone sprouting to encircle him. His only choice was to watch.
Chains wrapped Vaelryn's throat—tightening, binding—but she grinned through the blood.
"You never could hold me. Not then. Not now."
She exploded in a nova of fire, blasting Lilaxis across the throne.
"You wanted my title? Keep the ashes. I came for the truth."
**_The Secret Beneath the Throne_**
As Lilaxis fell, weakened and burned, Vaelryn approached the throne. It had been molded from her stolen bones—ribs, spine, even the plates of her skull.
She placed her hand on it.
**_BOOM._**
The throne split.
Beneath it was a pool of memory—a well of whispers and voices, echoing through time.
From it rose an image:
Kael kneeling before the gods.
Lilaxis forging the chains.
Vael, whispering from his cage.
And beneath all of it:
A symbol she had never seen before—a phoenix devouring a serpent, wrapped in a ring of starlight.
Kael whispered: "What is that?"
Vaelryn's voice trembled.
"The final throne. The first lie. The true enemy."
**_To the Next War_**
Lilaxis lay broken but alive. "You think the gods fear you? They fear what sleeps beneath the third moon. And if you keep burning thrones, it will wake."
Vaelryn turned to Kael.
"Get up. We're not done."
He rose. "What now?"
She looked at the sky.
"We climb. We burn. We expose every lie. Until even the stars tremble."
The city behind them began to collapse as they left it behind.
The Map of the Dead burned brighter.
One throne down.
Three more to go.
TO BE CONTINUED...
🔥 Chapter Hook — "Thrones of Ash, Thrones of Bone"
The past isn't buried.
It's sitting on a throne.
🌟 What power was stolen from Vaelryn's corpse?
🌈 Who forged the first betrayal?
💥 And what sleeps beneath the third moon?
📖 Next: Chapter 7 — "The Third Moon Rises"