The Golden Throne
The sun set behind the grand city of Eldarath, casting an amber glow over the sprawling capital. The royal palace stood proudly at the heart of the city, its towers crowned in gold, reflecting the light of the dying day. Within the throne room, the faint echo of footsteps reverberated through the vast, empty halls. The only sound was the steady breath of Prince Hiro, who sat alone on his throne, the weight of the world pressing down on him.
Hiro's fingers clenched the armrests of the throne, his golden armor gleaming dully in the dimming light. It had been a year since the gods had last spoken to him—a full year since they had promised to guide him, to raise him to the heights of divine rule. But now, those same gods were silent, leaving him to fight alone against the shadows creeping into his kingdom.
The throne beneath him felt cold, foreign, as if it no longer belonged to him. His mind was clouded with doubt, his heart heavy with the knowledge that the council of elders—his trusted advisors—had begun to turn against him. No longer did they call him the "Chosen Prince". Now, whispers followed his every step: "Too weak." "Too unpredictable." "A threat."
The weight of the crown pressed down on him, suffocating.
The grand hall suddenly grew colder, as if the air itself had been sucked from the room. Hiro felt a shiver run down his spine just before the heavy doors opened with a slow groan. The high priest Eldric entered, his dark robes trailing behind him like a shadow. At his side stood Captain Selena, her expression unreadable, a cold mask hiding the warmth Hiro once thought they shared.
Their presence in the throne room was no longer a comfort. The subtle shift in the air, the way they carried themselves—everything about them now felt… off.
"Your Highness," Eldric said, his voice smooth but carrying an unmistakable edge. "We must speak of your future."
Hiro's jaw tightened. He could feel the heaviness of this moment, the weight of what was to come, but he pushed it away. He would not show weakness. Not now.
"My future?" Hiro's voice was steady, though his heart thudded in his chest. "You have no doubt seen the vision the gods granted me. I am their chosen. The rightful heir. You… you cannot—"
"Ah, yes," Eldric interrupted, his smile thin and mocking. "The gods. The gods have seen fit to deliver you a great power, but they have also seen that you are a danger. A danger to the divine order. Your powers have exceeded what they anticipated. The council has spoken, Hiro."
Hiro's mind raced, his pulse quickening. "What do you mean? The gods would never—"
"They already have," Selena spoke for the first time, her voice cold as ice. "The council has decided. You are no longer fit to rule. The power you've unlocked is too great. You are no longer useful to us, Your Highness."
The words hit Hiro like a physical blow, each syllable cutting deeper than the last. He looked at Selena, disbelief flooding his veins.
"Betrayed," he whispered, his mind spinning, struggling to process what was happening. "I've served you. I've served the empire. I—"
"You've served the gods," Eldric cut in, his voice lowering, now venomous. "And they have turned their backs on you. You were never meant to rise this high, Hiro. You were never meant to wield this power. But now… now the gods have made their decision."
Selena stepped forward, her eyes colder than Hiro had ever seen them. "The people will not accept you as their ruler. You are too dangerous. Your powers have become a threat to the world. The gods have spoken—you will be exiled."
The words landed like daggers in Hiro's chest. Exiled. His knees weakened, but he stood tall, defiant. He had fought for this throne. He had earned his place, but it seemed none of it mattered.
"Betrayed by the ones I trusted most…" Hiro's voice cracked as his anger began to boil, but he couldn't let it show. Not yet.
The Betrayal Unleashed
Before Hiro could react, Selena moved swiftly. With a flick of her wrist, she threw a vial filled with a glowing, iridescent liquid at him. It struck his chest, and an excruciating pain shot through his body, radiating outward from the point of contact. His vision blurred, his legs gave way, and he collapsed to the floor, unable to move.
The last thing he saw was Eldric's face, grinning with cruel satisfaction. "Goodbye, Prince. Your journey ends here."
Several hours later...
When Hiro awoke, he was lying on the cold, hard earth. The pain in his chest had subsided, but a different kind of agony lingered. His head pounded with a rhythmic throb, like the beating of a distant drum. His body felt… heavy. And yet, something inside him stirred—a hunger, a gnawing sense of something unfathomable, as though the very world itself was calling to him.
He blinked several times, his vision clearing. The forest around him was dark, twisted, ancient, with towering trees that seemed to watch him with an almost sentient gaze. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the hum of power—raw, untamed power.
His hands trembled as he tried to push himself up, but they were no longer his hands. The markings across his skin—glowing, pulsating, alive—seemed to burn with the fire of a thousand stars.
"What… is this?" Hiro whispered hoarsely, staring at the strange symbols that marked his skin. They weren't just glowing. They were alive, shifting and changing as though they were connected to something greater than him.
A voice
It echoed through his mind, ancient and powerful. It wasn't a god, but something older, something far beyond what the gods could understand.
"You were always meant to awaken, Hiro," the voice said, reverberating through the very air around him. "But not as the prince. You are the Rogue Ascendant now. The gods have abandoned you, but I will guide you to power."
His heart raced. The voice was clear now, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace, but there was no comfort in it. It was a call to arms. A challenge.
Hiro clenched his fists, feeling the surge of divine energy rush through him. This was his power—the power of the Primordial Sovereign.
His mind was already racing. The gods had cast him aside, but now they would fear him. The true power of his bloodline had awoken, and no one—not even the gods—would stand in his way.
He stood up, a cold smirk creeping onto his face. His journey had just begun, and the world would kneel before him.