From Ashes To Scales

A few days had passed since the battle with Volkos, but I was still getting used to the idea of being called "king." The island of Ephiria had been liberated, and in the aftermath, I made sure to do what any reasonable adventurer would—loot the ever-loving crap out of Volkos’s castle. The treasures he had accumulated over centuries weren’t just vast; they were overwhelming. Gold, rare magical artifacts, and most importantly—gems.

Rose practically sparkled at the sight of the gemstones. “We’re rich!” she had gasped, clutching a handful of sapphires and emeralds as if they were her own children. However I had to get her feet back on the ground and remind her that we need these funds to rebuild Ephiria.

Ephiria was free, but it was also in shambles. The people had endured 300 years of tyranny, and it was time to restore what had been lost. But as I quickly realized, defeating a necromancer was the easy part. Governing? That was an entirely different beast.

The villagers celebrated their freedom, and their gratitude was genuine. They were kind, humble people who had fought for their lives and their families. But the council—the old guard that had once served Volkos—wasn't as easily swayed. Despite everything, they still saw me as an outsider, a foreigner who had suddenly appeared, taken down their tyrant, and was now expected to rule them.

Not all of them were against me, though. But thankfully, Naja Scalesong, one of the more respected and influential council members, had backed me up. Her support had forced the others’ hands, but even so, their acceptance was begrudging at best.

I remembered her words from the first council meeting after the battle. Naja’s gaze had been sharp, appraising, like a predator sizing up prey. “You’ve proven your strength, Magnus,” she had said, “but strength alone does not make a ruler. It takes more. Let’s see what you’re truly capable of.”

She wasn’t exactly subtle with the challenge, but I appreciated it. At least she wasn’t pretending to like me. But her words echoed in my mind.

It takes more than strength to rule, huh. As a former noble I have received a fine education, but putting it in practice won't be easy.

I hate to admit it, but peace doesn't last forever. Not without some sort of system. The problem was, Volkos may have been a tyrant, but he had a system in place—corrupt, cruel, and twisted, sure, but it was still a system. Without it, Ephiria would quickly slide into chaos. I could feel the tension in the air. The people were looking to me for leadership, for direction. And while the council’s approval gave me the title, I knew that peace wouldn’t last long without a new structure to hold it all together.

But before I could even begin thinking about governance, laws, or forming a new system, there was a more immediate issue to address. I needed a base—a castle, a seat of power from which I could rule. Somewhere that embodied the new era of Ephiria.

Naturally, the council members were all too eager to offer suggestions. One by one, they approached me, each trying to convince me to build my castle in their domain. Each offer came wrapped in veiled promises of support, favor, and alliances. I could practically see them salivating at the idea of securing a position of influence through proximity to the new king.

"Magnus, my lands are rich with resources. A castle there would thrive," one of them had said.

Another chimed in, "Our city used to be the most fortified. If you build there, no enemy would dare approach."

It was a dance, a game I hadn’t expected to play so soon. But despite their honeyed words, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being pulled into their webs. Their motivations were obvious, and I wasn’t about to be some puppet king.

Eventually, after days of deliberation, I made my decision. Lydia’s village.

The council’s reactions were… mixed, to say the least. I could tell they were skeptical, if not outright baffled by my choice. Some of them were too polite to voice their objections outright, but the look on their faces said enough.

"You're serious?" Leona had asked when I announced my decision. “You want to make Lydia’s village the capital?”

“It’s not exactly... ideal, strategically speaking,” Rose pointed out. “A capital is supposed to be a symbol of strength and prosperity.”

“Not to mention, it’s a village,” Saphira added, always the pragmatic one. “The infrastructure is nowhere near suitable for a capital.”

I looked at all of them, letting their concerns hang in the air for a moment before I responded.

“It’s not about the size or the location,” I said. “It’s about trust. I fought alongside these people. They fought for their homes and their families, and they did it without hesitation. This is the only place I know well enough, the only place I feel safe. And it’s the one place where I can walk the streets without worrying about an ambush. Trust is worth more to me than the best defensive position or the richest land.”

Leona chuckled, shaking her head. “You just want to stroll around without looking over your shoulder, don’t you?”

“Exactly,” I said, grinning. “I don’t want to be that king. The one who hides behind walls and never sees his people. Besides, we’re not building just any castle.”

At this point, I could see the curiosity in their eyes. Even Saphira seemed intrigued.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked.

That’s when I told them about the tree.

Lydia’s village wasn’t just any village. At its center was something special—an enormous tree, ancient and majestic. Its roots stretched deep into the ground, and its branches reached high into the sky. It was as large as any castle, if not larger, and its presence was awe-inspiring. Especially with all the pink leaves and flowers. It reminded me of a cherry blossom and I did feel nostalgic.

I had seen something like it once before, during my time studying the ways of the elves. They didn’t build their homes from stone or brick. Instead, they lived within nature, building directly into the trees. And that’s what I wanted to do. This tree would be my castle.

Rose’s eyes went wide. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Dead serious,” I replied.

“Why build another cold, lifeless fortress when we have something alive right here? This tree… it’s connected to the land, to the spirits. We’ll build within it, around it. It’ll be a castle like no other. I mean just imagine waking up in the morning, walking up to the balcony and you see the beautiful and blissful flowers and leaves? It's better than any royal garden.”

Lydia, who had been listening quietly, stepped forward and placed a hand on the tree’s bark. “Magnus,” she began, her voice soft but full of reverence, “what you’re proposing is more than just building a castle. You’re seeking to connect with the spirits of this land, with nature itself. It’s a beautiful vision.” She smiled warmly at me. “You have my blessing. This tree will become the heart of Ephiria.”

I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride swelling in my chest. It was unconventional, sure, but that’s who I was. I wasn’t some cookie-cutter king. I wanted to create something new, something better.

“You’re really going through with this?”

Rusalka asked, still a bit skeptical, but there was a glint of excitement in her eyes.

“Of course,” I said with a smirk. “Why build a boring old stone castle when I can live in a tree?”

As the others mulled over my decision, I looked up at the towering branches above us, imagining what this place would become. A castle within nature, connected to the very essence of Ephiria. It was bold, different, and completely out of the box.

That being said… I absolutely have no clue how to build it. I said that I studied elves and I know that they build their houses in trees, but I don't know how they do it. Hopefully… I can borrow some elven workers by promising them some riches or land around this village. I’m excited… but I don't know where to start. And there's one more problem.

“So what are you going to name the new capital? My village bears no name, so it seems fitting for you to grant it one.”, said Lydia, once again looking at me with expectation.

This is great. And by great I mean really bad. Because I suck at giving names. Even when I used to play games in Japan I was often criticized by fellow online players for the weird names I would pick. But at the end of the day, it was the internet and nobody cared for too long.

A name… huh? If I had to come up with one on the spot it would be…

“Let's go with… Bloomhaven.”