Title: The Weight of Kingship
The silence in the throne hall was absolute. Dust hung in the air like mist, glowing faintly in the amber light that poured from the celestial scale suspended above Leonhart's head. The weight had settled. The flames within the balance dimmed, yet their warmth lingered — not burning, but watching.
He took a step forward.
The throne, cracked yet unmoved, awaited. Blackened stone bore the markings of forgotten rulers, and along its arms were carvings of beasts once feared in legends. Leonhart raised his eyes to meet the empty seat.
Suddenly, a voice echoed. Not loud, but it struck his soul like thunder.
"You carry the burden, not the crown. Yet."
He turned. No one. Just shadows.
"Who's there?" His voice was calm, but his hand hovered near his sword.
The air behind him shimmered. A figure emerged — not flesh, not ghost. A memory bound to the throne.
A man, cloaked in rusted gold and crowned with ash. His eyes were hollow, but his presence... overwhelming.
"You seek justice," the figure said, "but the throne does not bend for vengeance. It demands sacrifice."
Leonhart's heart pounded.
"Then show me," he whispered. "Show me what it takes."
The ghostly king extended a hand, and the room dissolved into fire.
Flashes. Screams. Betrayals. His own future — painted in blood.
And then silence again.
Leonhart dropped to one knee, gasping. The vision was gone, but the weight remained.
From above, the scale trembled. One side dipped lower.
"Test begun." The throne hall rumbled.
Stone walls cracked open, revealing a path below. Darkness beckoned, lit only by embers.
He stood, eyes burning with new resolve. Behind him, the ghost vanished. Ahead, his trial began.
He took the first step into the Trial of Kings.