The Sovereign's Curse

Xander sat down heavily on a simple but sturdy chair near the table in the center of the room. The interior was just as he'd expected—unadorned but functional. The faint smell of freshly cut wood lingered in the air, and beams of sunlight filtered through the small windows, casting warm patterns on the floor. For all its simplicity, the place felt new, almost too new, as if it had been constructed in haste.

"So," Xander began after a moment of silence, "are you going to explain why I'm here? Or are you planning to keep me in the dark about that, too?"

Aeternis, still wearing Athena's face and form, leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "You're here because you were sent here," she said, her voice calm, almost casual.

"Obviously," he said, rolling his eyes. "But why this world? Why drop me in the middle of nowhere without warning? And where were you earlier when I was wandering through that forest? I could've used some guidance."

She smirked. "Guidance is overrated. Sometimes, you need to figure things out for yourself."

"You're impossible," he muttered.

"And you're impatient," she shot back, stepping closer. "Do you think this world is some kind of accident? Do you think I'd let you stumble in without a purpose?"

Xander frowned, leaning forward. "So there is a purpose? Care to enlighten me?"

Aeternis paused, studying him carefully. "This world has its flaws, Xander. It's fractured, inefficient, and blind to its potential. Sound familiar?"

He blinked. "You're saying it's like me?"

"I'm saying," she said, her tone softening slightly, "that this world might teach you something—if you let it."

"Teach me what?"

"That's for you to discover."

Xander sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Fantastic. More riddles. You could've just said you don't know."

Aeternis smiled faintly. "Oh, I know more than you think. But let's not rush. You've barely scratched the surface of what this place has to offer."

---

The conversation was interrupted by a faint knock at the door. Aeternis—Athena—straightened immediately, her demeanor shifting to one of composed authority.

"Stay here," she said, her tone firm.

Before Xander could protest, she opened the door, revealing a young boy holding a bundle of papers. "Lady Athena," the boy stammered, bowing quickly. "The elders request your presence at the council hall."

Aeternis nodded gracefully. "Thank you, Tomas. Tell them I'll be there shortly."

The boy hesitated, his eyes flicking briefly to Xander before scurrying off.

As Aeternis closed the door, Xander raised an eyebrow. "'Lady Athena'? Seriously? You're on the council now, too?"

She shrugged. "Borrowed faces come with borrowed responsibilities. Stay out of trouble while I'm gone."

"Wait—where are you going?" he asked, standing up.

"To handle matters that don't concern you." She gave him a pointed look. "Not yet, anyway."

Before he could press her further, she stepped out, leaving him alone in the unfamiliar room.

---

As the door clicked shut, Xander ran a hand through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. Alone once again, he glanced around the room. The walls were plain, the furnishings minimal, yet there was an odd sense of comfort here. But comfort wasn't what he needed right now. He needed answers.

He paced the room, trying to piece together the fragments of his situation. Aeternis had always been cryptic, but this? This was on another level. And this world... it wasn't just different—it was alive in ways he couldn't quite understand yet.

Eventually, he stopped by the window, staring out at the village. People moved about, carrying goods, tending to animals, and chatting in small clusters. It was a peaceful scene, yet there was something beneath the surface, something he couldn't quite place.

"I need to figure this out," he muttered to himself.

He didn't know what awaited him in this strange world, but one thing was certain—he wasn't going to sit around waiting for answers to fall into his lap.

The Mystic Warden's chamber was unlike any other place in the kingdom. A sanctum nestled deep beneath the king's citadel, it pulsed with an ethereal energy. The air shimmered faintly, as though alive, and the room was filled with intricate carvings—symbols and ancient runes spiraling across the stone walls. A low hum resonated, neither sound nor silence, but a presence that clung to the skin like mist.

The Warden, an ageless man with stark white hair and eyes that glowed faintly with an amber hue, stood at the center of a circular altar. His robes were embroidered with gold and obsidian threads, an ode to Elarion's dual nature—creation and destruction. He clutched a long staff, its head shaped like an open eye that faintly pulsed with light.

Suddenly, the eye flared.

The Warden's head jerked upward. His voice echoed, both within the chamber and beyond, carried by an invisible current.

"Summon the king," he commanded.

Moments later, the doors to the chamber creaked open. The king of Virelia entered, his armored boots clinking against the stone floor. He was a tall man with sharp, angular features and piercing gray eyes. His presence commanded respect, a weight born not just of his crown but his reputation as a ruler who had weathered countless storms.

"Warden," the king said, his voice steady. "What is so urgent that you call me from council?"

The Mystic Warden did not bow, nor did he exchange pleasantries. He pointed his staff toward the glowing runes at the center of the altar. The symbols flickered, rearranging themselves into what looked like a constellation.

"There has been a shift," the Warden said, his voice reverberating. "A presence—foreign, unfamiliar—has entered Valeria."

The king frowned. "Foreigners pass through our lands from time to time. What makes this one special?"

The Warden stepped forward, his glowing eyes narrowing. "This is no mere traveler, Your Majesty. This presence is... different. I cannot see its origin, nor its intent. It feels like a disruption—an anomaly. Elarion's threads ripple around it."

The king's expression darkened. "Do you believe this presence to be a threat?"

"I cannot say for certain," the Warden replied. "But when the threads ripple, storms often follow."

The king turned away, his cloak swirling behind him. "I will double the patrols in the area. If this presence is a threat, we will root it out and crush it before it has a chance to spread."

The Warden's gaze lingered on the constellation-like runes, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Pray it is not something beyond your soldiers' reach."

---

The council chamber was a grand hall lined with pillars carved from black marble, their surfaces inlaid with shimmering silver veins. At the center of the room, a long table stood, its polished surface reflecting the faces of those seated around it. Lords and officials from every corner of the kingdom argued in low murmurs, their voices a symphony of tension and discontent.

Aeternis, still in the guise of Athena, stood near the doorway, observing. She radiated an aura of quiet authority, her sharp green eyes surveying the room. Her long auburn hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the finely crafted armor she wore glimmered faintly in the firelight.

Her presence drew immediate attention as she stepped into the chamber. The voices hushed, and heads turned.

"Lady Athena," one of the council members said, bowing slightly. "We were not expecting you."

Aeternis smiled faintly. "Nor should you have. But circumstances have brought me back sooner than planned."

The king entered moments later, silencing the room entirely. He glanced briefly at Aeternis, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but his expression remained unreadable.

"Proceed," the king commanded, taking his seat at the head of the table.

The discussion began with mundane matters—trade agreements, skirmishes along the borders, and disputes among the nobles. Aeternis listened intently, gathering what she could about the world's inner workings.

Then, one of the lords spoke up.

"Your Majesty," he said, his voice trembling slightly, "there have been... whispers among the villagers near the southern riverbank. They speak of a stranger—someone unlike any they have seen before."

The king leaned forward. "A stranger?"

"Yes, my lord. A man with strange mannerisms and an air of... unfamiliarity. The villagers are uneasy. They believe he may be connected to—"

The king raised a hand, silencing the lord. He turned to Aeternis. "Lady Athena, you were in that region recently. Did you encounter this stranger?"

Aeternis hesitated for only a fraction of a second before answering. "I did. He appeared lost and disoriented, a common traveler who likely wandered too far from his caravan. I spoke with him briefly and ensured he would be taken care of."

The king's gaze bore into her, searching for any hint of deceit. Finally, he nodded. "Very well. Keep an eye on him, and report back if you discover anything unusual."

Aeternis inclined her head. "Of course, Your Majesty."

After a few minutes of minor trade disputes, one of the younger lords rose from his seat. His voice was measured but carried an undercurrent of fear.

"Your Majesty, there is another matter—one that cannot be ignored."

The room fell silent. All eyes turned to him.

"It concerns the alien horde," the young lord continued, his hands tightening on the table. "Our scouts have not seen them, but whispers grow louder. They say their ships have been spotted circling the outer regions of Elarion's Veil."

A murmur rippled through the chamber.

"Rumors," another council member scoffed. "The horde would not linger so long without striking. If they were a threat, we would have seen evidence by now."

"Evidence or not," the king said, his voice calm but firm, "we cannot dismiss the possibility. The horde has been quiet for too long. Their silence concerns me more than their presence ever did."

An older general leaned forward, his weathered face grim. "If they strike during the Festival of Awakening, it could cripple us. The capital will be vulnerable with so many citizens gathered in one place."

"The Rite of Awakening is sacred," another councilor countered. "To postpone it would be seen as a sign of fear. The people would lose faith in the crown."

Aeternis spoke for the first time in a while, her voice smooth and authoritative.

"Fear does not weaken a kingdom; complacency does."

The room quieted again as all eyes turned to her. The king regarded her carefully. "What would you suggest, Lady Athena?"

"Fortify the capital during the festival," Aeternis replied. "Let the people celebrate without worry, but do not lower your guard. If the horde intends to move, it will likely be during a moment of distraction."

The king nodded, considering her words. "Make the arrangements," he ordered the general. "Double the patrols in the outer regions, and quietly increase the guard in the capital. We will not let fear disrupt the festival, but we will not be caught unprepared."

The council murmured in agreement, though tension still lingered in the air.