prologue:
The Fall of House Kaelthorne
The capital of Valmyria burned with golden light as dawn broke over its towers. To the nobles, it was a morning of triumph. To me, it was the morning my world ended.
"Lord Darius Kaelthorne has fallen."
The words echoed through the marble halls like a curse. Servants wept. Guards shifted uneasily. And I… I stood frozen, my fists clenched, staring at the bloodied crest of my house.
My father, the man who carried our family against rivals and enemies alike, was gone.
Or so they claimed.
Whispers of betrayal coiled in the corridors. Cousins and uncles vied for power like carrion birds. Even before his body was cold, the Great Houses moved to strip us bare.
Beside me, Serenya's small hand trembled in mine. Her black eyes—so much like our mother's—searched my face for strength. For hope.
I gave her neither. Only silence.
That night, I stood alone beneath the high banners of Kaelthorne. The firelight danced across the steel blade in my hand, and something within me awakened.
A power that should not exist.
A voice that whispered of erasure, of silence, of void.
With a single thought, the steel edge dulled, as though its very "purpose" had been swallowed by nothingness. I had no name for it then. Only fear—and resolve.
If the High Houses wanted to devour us, then I would become the darkness that devoured them.
For Serenya.
For my father's legacy.
For myself.
The age of false emperors would end.
And from the ashes of Valmyria, the Strongest Void Emperor would rise.