King

The kingdom of Aurelian had been built beside the northern Atlantic cliffs nearly eight centuries earlier, where black stone fortresses overlooked violent gray seas and merchant ships…

The village of Greyfen sat where the cliffs of the western coast met the cold Atlantic winds. Salt gathered on the rooftops. Fishing nets hung from crooked…

The hum spread deeper. Not through the air. Through the stone. Through the bones of every person standing inside the Iron Square. Some people collapsed instantly, clutching…

The cathedral of Saint Aurelius stood above the Atlantic coastline like a monument to old power. For nearly three centuries, Europe’s wealthiest dynasties had buried their dead…

Boston Common smelled like cut grass, city heat, and rain trapped somewhere beyond the skyline. Tourists crowded the brick pathways beneath old elm trees while office workers…

Nobody noticed the old man when he first entered Summit Corporate Plaza. That was the point. At seventy-two, Arthur looked completely out of place against the polished…

The chains beneath Blackthorne Palace had held for one hundred and eighty-three years. Long enough for the kingdom to forget why they existed. Long enough for royal…

Cold Atlantic wind rattles the stained-glass windows of Blackthorne Castle as the camera slowly tracks behind King Alaric walking alone through dim royal corridors lit only by…

The palace of Aethelgard had already begun mourning before the King actually died. By midnight, the western corridors smelled of candle smoke, medicine, and fear hidden beneath…