The Weight of a Throne
Kaelen sat upon the Throne of Shadows, his body rigid, his mind drowning in the endless whispers of those who had ruled before him. The throne was alive, not merely a seat of power but a conduit—one that connected him to the very soul of the empire.
The moment he had sat down, something within him had shifted.
He could feel the empire, its ruins breathing with old magic, its forgotten legions waiting in the depths of time. The weight of an entire civilization pressed upon him, demanding a ruler, a conqueror, someone to reignite the flame of dominion.
But it wasn't just power that surged through him.
It was responsibility.
Kaelen's fingers gripped the armrests of the throne as knowledge poured into him—secrets buried for centuries, lost wars, betrayals, the true history of the Black Sun Empire. And most terrifying of all…
Visions of the future.
The Black Sun Rises Once More
The air within the throne room shifted as the golden inscriptions on the throne flared with blinding light. The ancient chamber groaned in protest, as if awakening after centuries of slumber.
And then—
A deep, resonating boom echoed through the palace.
Lirien staggered backward. "What the hell was that?"
Kaelen's pulse quickened. He could feel it now—something beyond the throne, beyond the palace itself, stirring in the ruins.
The empire was responding to his ascension.
From the broken walls of the palace, black mist began to seep in, forming shifting figures—knights clad in ancient armor, their helmets adorned with the insignia of the Black Sun. Their bodies were not flesh, but shadows given form, wielding weapons forged in an age long past.
The Legion of the Forgotten.
Kaelen clenched his jaw. The army of the Black Sun still lived, bound to the throne's will.
They knelt before him, swords planted in the stone floor.
A deep, unseen voice echoed in his mind.
"You have claimed the Throne of Shadows. The empire is yours to rebuild… or to destroy."
Lirien's Warning
Lirien's voice cut through the silence.
"Kaelen, step away from that throne. Now."
Kaelen turned his gaze toward her. There was something in her eyes he had never seen before. Not just concern.
Fear.
She pointed toward his hands. He looked down.
His fingers… were darkening.
Black veins pulsed beneath his skin, the same markings that had covered the Fallen King before his demise.
Kaelen exhaled sharply. The throne was changing him.
Lirien took a step forward, her daggers still drawn. "You don't have to do this. We came here to end the empire's curse, not replace it with another ruler."
Kaelen could feel the power surging through him, whispering temptations into his mind. The throne's voice was soft, persuasive.
"She does not understand. The world needs order. Strength. A ruler who does not fear war."
He clenched his fists.
He had sought power to destroy tyrants, not become one.
But could he truly walk away now?
A Ruler's Choice
The chamber trembled as Kaelen slowly stood from the throne. The Legion of the Forgotten remained kneeling, waiting for his command.
The empire was his now.
He could rebuild it, forge a new kingdom from the ashes, command an army unlike any that had ever existed. He could end wars before they even began.
Or…
He could walk away, destroy the throne, and let the Black Sun fade into history.
Lirien's voice was quieter now. "Kaelen, please."
The High Magus stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "Whatever you decide… it will change the world."
Kaelen closed his eyes.
The Black Sun hung above them, waiting.
And he had to choose.
---
A King's Burden
The Silence Before the Storm
The weight of the Legion of the Forgotten's kneeling forms pressed into the chamber like an unspoken command. The air was thick with expectation. The Black Sun still hung in the void above, pulsing with unseen energy, its dark radiance illuminating the shattered palace.
Kaelen's mind was a battlefield.
The throne had given him power—power beyond his imagination—but at a cost he had not foreseen. His veins were darkening, his soul brushing against the same abyss that had consumed the Fallen King before him.
But he could still feel the potential.
With this throne, with this army, he could change everything.
And yet, Lirien's voice anchored him in reality.
"Kaelen," she whispered, standing just beyond the reach of the throne's shadow. "Please, step away from it."
Her eyes searched his, pleading, desperate. But beneath the concern, he saw something else.
Doubt.
Did she already believe he was lost?
Kaelen exhaled, lifting his gaze back to the kneeling warriors.
They were waiting.
The Black Sun's Whisper
A voice—not his own, yet somehow familiar—echoed in his mind.
"Command us, and we shall move."
Kaelen felt the words rather than heard them, reverberating in the depths of his soul.
He glanced at the High Magus, who stood silently by the entrance, his gaze calculating, unreadable. The old mage had known this was a possibility. Had he always planned for Kaelen to reach this throne?
Kaelen's fingers twitched. He could feel it…
The vast power humming beneath the throne, waiting to be wielded.
With a single word, he could command the Legion of the Forgotten to march. He could reshape the world in his image. No more warlords, no more corrupt kings, no more suffering for the innocent.
He could end the cycle of chaos that had plagued this land for centuries.
But at what cost?
How many rulers had thought the same before him?
Lirien took a step closer, her hands trembling at her sides. "Kaelen… whatever this is, whatever it's offering you—it's a lie. Power like this doesn't come without chains."
Kaelen tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.
She was right.
But he had come too far to turn back.
A Throne Claimed
He lifted his hand.
The Legion of the Forgotten rose in unison, their eyes glowing with spectral light.
The High Magus murmured something under his breath, but his expression remained neutral.
Kaelen felt his heartbeat slow, his body aligning with something far older than himself. The throne was not just an object—it was an extension of the empire itself.
He could feel the remnants of the once-great capital, the ruined streets, the echoes of soldiers who had died fighting for a cause long forgotten.
And now, the throne recognized him.
The final seal broke.
A wave of dark energy rippled through the palace, and outside, the ruins shifted.
Ancient gates creaked open, unseen towers stirred, and in the distance, the first warhorn in centuries sounded.
The empire was waking.
Kaelen turned his gaze back to Lirien. She looked at him not as a friend, but as someone she barely recognized.
"Kaelen," she whispered. "Tell me you're still in there."
He opened his mouth.
But before he could speak—
The Black Sun pulsed.
A new presence rose from the depths.
And everything changed.