The Hall of Vidrium lay in silence.
Where once sacred torches burned eternally over the throne of the kings of Norgalia, now only cold embers and scattered ashes remained. Dried blood covered the floor mosaics, and the royal tapestries had been burned or ripped from their pillars.
The monarchy was dead.
The last spark of the Shastakan line had vanished… or so they believed.
The Seven Pillars, who had been the country's eternal guardians, were now the new architects of order. News of the royal family's execution spread like wildfire in the wind. There was no trial, no explanation. Only a phrase repeated throughout Fortis, throughout Heart of the Dawn:
"The lineage was weak. It was time for a change."
The people—worn down by centuries of blind obedience, sunk into poverty by poor resource management, and numbed by generations of fear—did not protest. Many even celebrated. For the Pillars, for the first time, presented themselves to the people not as gods… but as leaders.
And with a manipulated, symbolic vote, the Republic of Norgalia was born.
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Year 900 – Seal of the Republican Foundation
Julian Verrak, a politician who had once been a minor official in Dinaria, was named the first president of the new era. A man of slender stature, sharp features, a convincing voice, and a calculating gaze. But above all, an efficient puppet.
Gabriel whispered the laws to him.
Marcus controlled the information.
Julius commanded the military.
And the rest… watched from the shadows.
Julian was president in name only. The republic was an illusion.
"The people do not need kings," Julian said during his inauguration speech, surrounded by a crowd that applauded without knowing what they were celebrating. "Norgalia will now govern itself! Long live the will of the people!"
But there was no will. Nor were there people deciding.
There was only fear.
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The Shadow of Years
In the following years, presidents came and went like seasons. Each one weaker than the last. Some attempted to rebel against the Pillars' influence. Others made deals out of ambition. All ended up forgotten or destroyed.
Seraphine Dorne, the second president, tried to open trade channels. Marcus silenced her when she opposed sharing information with Cintekis.
Hendrik Voss publicly denounced corruption in Fortis. His family disappeared that same night.
Leona Kessler, a popular military leader, rose to power in 920 and unleashed a civil war between states like Agrobia and Laboris. The conflict was exploited by Julius to militarize the entire country.
History repeated itself. There was no empire, but there was also no freedom. Only another kind of crown, forged from lies, technology, and surveillance.
The Pillars, now without limits or royalty to restrain them, divided the country like chess pieces.
And the people… the people learned to be silent.
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The Last Whisper of the Throne
By 956, the country was a decadent mixture of technological control and human misery. Wealthy cities like Cintekis and Comertion lived in false luxury, while places like Gray City and Agrobia barely survived on supplies.
Soren Vale, the last president, no longer governed. He lived locked in the Tower of Information at Comunicaré, fearing his own shadow. The army was divided, Laboris' factories collapsed, and rumors spread.
They said that somewhere… a new Shastakan had been born.
A descendant.
A survivor.
A spark of the eternal flame that had founded Norgalia, hidden in oblivion.
The Pillars ignored the signs. They laughed at the legends of a woman fleeing the Palace with a child in her arms. They thought royalty was a dead myth. But what they did not know was that in a distant region, hidden among ancient ruins and erased maps… a young man named Pablo walked among the rubble of a forgotten empire, restoring, rebuilding… remembering.
And once again, history was about to begin.
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