The air in the throne room continued to vibrate with the resonances of dominance. Regis sensed it—the weight of something enormous pressing down on his mind, as if the world itself had noticed him, holding its breath at his pleasure.
He closed his eyes, trying to still his mind. Authority. That was the source of his power. Not magic, not brute strength—it was control over the stuff of his world. The fortress, the land it stood on, and perhaps more—anything could be shaped to his will.
But how much could he actually control?
"You seem disturbed, my lord."
Regis awoke to the sight of Elyndra looking at him with a warm smile. The sorceress possessed an uncanny ability to read the currents of power, sensing the rise and fall of his emotions as if they were ink on parchment.
"Not upset," Regis corrected. "Inquisitive. If my power is rooted in dominion, then there are limits—rules that govern its use.".
Elyndra's mouth twisted. "There are always boundaries, my lord. But the question is—are they stepping stones? Or barriers?"
Regis settled back into his throne, considering her words. Power had always been something with boundaries—boundaries one could not breach. But here, in this world, with this power, could such boundaries ever exist for him?
"Then let us find out," he whispered.
His fingers tightened against the cold armrest of his throne, and he extended a hand, not his hands, but his mind.
The Ashen Dominion replied.
There was a low hum in the air, the walls themselves exhaling in rhythm with his desire. The throne room expanded, space opening up imperceptibly, as if in acknowledgment of his presence. The pillars, which bore the sigils of victory, glowed softly, resonating with his will.
It was subtle, but it was real.
"Interesting," Elyndra whispered.
Regis exhaled slowly, releasing his grip. The energy in the room settled, the temporary warp resolving.
It was not full control—not yet. But the foundation was laid. He could mold the realm, alter the space about him, warp reality ever so subtly.
He would have to push himself further.
But first, he had other matters to attend to.
The Lords of the Dominion
The next day, Regis gathered his council again.
Kaelen, Elyndra, Drenvar, and Varian stood before him, their faces calm but expectant. They had sworn their allegiance to him, but Regis knew that allegiance alone would not do. They needed purpose.
"The Ashen Dominion is wide, but hollow," Regis began, his gaze sweeping over them. "We have power, but no sway. If we are to rule, we must establish order."
Kaelen, the gentleman that he was, bowed his head. "What do you bid us, my lord?"
Regis looked at them seriously. All of them possessed an ability—a role to play in his empire's ascension.
He turned to Kaelen first. "You will lead the formation of an elite guard. Men and women who will be the sword and the shield of the Dominion. Take the finest—our strength must be unbreakable."
Kaelen bowed his head respectfully.
Then Regis turned to the warlord Drenvar. "Our troops are there, but they are unorganized. They are scattered remnants of an old time, leaderless. You will take them and mold them into a conqueror's army."
The bright eyes under Drenvar's dark helmet glowed with approval. "It shall be done.".
Then, Elyndra. "I have seen the things that magic can do here. I must study its principles, its foundation. Summon our scholars—those who hold wisdom of the previous ways. I want to discover everything there is to know concerning this world's arcane energies."
Elyndra grinned. "Information is power, indeed. Leave it to us, my lord.".
Finally, Varian, the spymaster. "Rumors are our most potent weapon. I would know what happens in the lands beyond our kingdom—whose rule they are subject to, which houses hold power within them, and where they are weak. I trust you can uncover what we need?"
Varian grinned his sly grin, placing a hand over his heart in feigned deference. "Oh, my Sovereign, you do me too great a compliment. I would not be worthy of my position were I to disappoint you."
Regis nodded curtly. "Then go at once. We don't have an instant to waste."
As his servants departed, each to complete the task allotted to him, Regis sank back in his throne, inhaling slowly.
His empire was still in its infancy. But now the chess pieces were moved.
And presently, the world would feel the weight of his dominion.
The Awakening of Power
That night, Regis stood on the highest balcony of the Ashen Dominion, looking down upon the world below.
A vast, empty world stretched out before him—shattered landscapes, ruined civilizations, remnants of lost empires. And beyond them, far away, faint lights flickered in the darkness. Other kingdoms. Other kings.
His fingers gripped the stone railing more firmly.
This world had been broken. Left to decay.
But he would not let it remain so.
He would shape it again.
Closing his eyes, he reached out once more.
The Dominion responded—not just the fortress, but the world itself. He sensed it, a echo of the larger. The fabric of reality bending, waiting on his will.
"The Will of Dominion…"
He was greater than a king. Greater than a ruler.
He was the Sovereign.
A cutting wind swept by him, but Regis remained unmoving.
For in that instant, he knew:
This was only the beginning.