Chapter 111: The King’s Decision
The dawn that followed the fall of the gods was a strange, fragile thing.
Soft light spread across the land, revealing a world broken yet breathing. The fires that had consumed the sky were gone, leaving smoke trailing like ghosts over the ruined battlefield. Crows circled above, their cries sharp against the silence. And at the heart of it all, Cambria stood at the edge of what was once a throne, now reduced to ash and stone.
But this story was not hers alone.
Far to the north, where the war had not yet reached, Knox’s former capital stirred with unrest. Word of the gods’ fall had traveled on the wind, carried by refugees, deserters, and whispers. The people waited, fearful, wondering who would claim the shattered empire’s crown.
And in that moment, as history hesitated between peace and another storm, he returned.
The King in Exile
Knox rode alone.
His once-gilded armor was tarnished, his cloak torn, the ember glow in his veins faded to mere memory. Every step of his horse echoed down the empty streets of the capital. Windows shuttered. Doors bolted. The city that had once cheered for his rise now cowered at his return.
He dismounted before the royal citadel a fortress of black stone that seemed to sneer at the dawn and stood for a long moment, staring at its closed gates.
The guards above wavered, unsure whether to let him pass.
And then Knox spoke.