The air reeked of ash and betrayal.
Kael Draven knelt in the center of Valthorne's Grand Plaza, wrists bound by mana-forged chains that burned his skin. The crowd's roars drowned out the clanging of the royal bells—nobles in their floating citadels above, peasants below, all baying for his blood. He didn't look at them. His eyes, storm-gray and unyielding, fixed on the three figures standing before the pyre.
Lysa, his fiancée, her golden hair catching the torchlight, tears streaming down her porcelain face. Torren, his best friend since boyhood, gripping the hilt of his sword, jaw tight. And his father, Lord Gavren Draven, stone-faced, the crest of House Draven glinting on his cloak. They hadn't come to save him. They'd come to watch him burn.
"Kael Draven," the high priestess's voice boomed, amplified by divine magic. She stood atop the altar, her robes shimmering like liquid starlight. "You stand accused of treason against King Aldric, conspiring to shatter the Eternal Crest and defy the Five Gods. How do you plead?"
Kael's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Guilty of loyalty, perhaps. Nothing more."
The crowd hissed. A stone struck his cheek, drawing blood. He didn't flinch. He'd stopped flinching long ago—when Lysa's whispered promises turned to poison, when Torren's laughter became silence, when his father's pride morphed into cold ambition. The trial was a farce. He'd been the kingdom's greatest knight, the blade that carved victory in the Mana Wars, the heir who'd sworn to protect Valthorne. And yet, here he was, framed by lies he couldn't unravel.
"Enough," King Aldric said, rising from his throne at the plaza's edge. His crown gleamed, heavy with divine gems. "The gods have spoken. Kael Draven, your soul will feed the Crest, ensuring Eryndor's prosperity. Light the pyre."
Kael's gaze snapped to Lysa. "Was it worth it?" he rasped. Her sob was answer enough, but her eyes darted away. Torren stepped forward, torch in hand, and Kael's heart twisted. "You too, brother?"
Torren's voice was low, almost a whisper. "You left us no choice, Kael."
The torch fell. Flames roared to life, licking the wood at Kael's feet. The mana-infused kindling burned hotter than any mortal fire, searing his flesh before the flames even touched him. He clenched his teeth, refusing to scream. The crowd's cheers faded into a dull roar, and his vision blurred—Lysa's tears, Torren's grimace, his father's back as he turned away.
As the fire consumed him, Kael's mind clung to one thought: Why? He'd given everything—his blood, his honor, his love. And they'd taken it all. The pain crescendoed, his body crumbling to ash, his soul fraying like a thread in a storm.
Then, darkness.
A voice, ancient and vast, slithered through the void. Do you crave vengeance, child of ash?
Kael's consciousness stirred. "Who… are you?"
I am the Ashen Sovereign, forgotten by gods and men. Your soul burns with wrath. I can remake you—stronger, eternal, a flame to devour your betrayers. But it comes at a price.
"Name it," Kael growled, his voice echoing in the abyss.
Your humanity. Feed my flame with their lives, or become mine forever.
Kael saw their faces—Lysa, Torren, his father, the king, the priestess. Rage surged, hotter than the pyre. "I accept."
The void shattered. Pain flooded back, but it wasn't the fire's bite. It was power, raw and molten, coursing through veins that shouldn't exist. Kael's eyes snapped open. He lay in a wasteland, surrounded by blackened earth and twisted, skeletal trees. The air hummed with mana, thick and wild. His body felt… wrong. Stronger. Unbreakable.
He raised a hand, and sparks danced at his fingertips—crimson, alive, hungry. The ground beneath him scorched, grass curling to ash. A laugh escaped his lips, sharp and feral.
"They thought they could kill me," he whispered, rising to his feet. His cloak was gone, his armor melted away, but he felt no cold. Only fire. "They'll learn what betrayal costs."
In the distance, a beast's roar echoed through the wastes. Kael's crimson eyes glinted. Let it come. Let them all come.
The Ashen King was born.