The winds of Veltharion howled through the broken spires of the once-great city. The air was heavy with ash, the remnants of ancient fires that had never truly died. Deep within the crumbling ruins, in a hall where sunlight dared not enter, the Throne of Ashes stood. A monument to a forgotten age, it pulsed faintly with dark energy, casting an unnatural glow across the stone floor.
It was said that whoever claimed the Throne would hold dominion over all realms—land, sea, and sky. But the cost of such power was steep. Blood had soaked the stones of Veltharion for centuries, kings and queens rising and falling, each believing they could tame the darkness. None had succeeded.
At the heart of this darkness resided a voice. It whispered through the cracks in the throne’s surface, soft as a lover’s caress, yet cold enough to freeze the soul.
“Closer…” the voice beckoned.
From the shadows, a figure approached. Cloaked and hooded, they moved with purpose, their footsteps echoing in the vast, empty chamber. Their hands trembled—not with fear, but with anticipation.
“You come seeking power,” the voice whispered, its tone both mocking and inviting. “Do you truly believe you are worthy?”
The figure knelt before the throne, their head bowed. “I do not seek worthiness. I seek vengeance.”
The voice chuckled, a sound that sent a ripple through the very foundations of the hall. “Vengeance is the sweetest fruit of all… but it comes with a price.”
“I will pay it,” the figure replied, their voice steady.
The shadows surged, coiling like serpents around the figure. The air grew colder, the faint light dimming until only the throne’s glow remained.
“Very well,” the voice hissed. “The pact is sealed.”
The figure rose, their eyes now glowing with an eerie red light. The shadows clung to their form, seeping into their veins, their very essence. Power coursed through them—unrelenting, intoxicating, and terrible.
Far beyond the ruins, in the icy halls of Winterhold, Selyne Valenvar awoke with a start. The air in her chamber was frigid, her breath visible in the dim light of dawn. She clutched the edge of her blanket, her heart racing.
A voice echoed in her mind, faint but unmistakable.
“They are coming for you.”
And in that moment, she knew. The balance of the realms had shifted. Darkness had found its champion, and the storm was only beginning.
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Comments
Khabib Firman Syah Roni
Impressive storyline!
2025-01-11
0