Chapter 52: The Weight of a Crown
The return to Silverfang Keep was a somber, silent procession. There were no cheers, no triumphant horns. The victory at the Obsidian Outpost was a poisoned chalice, and its bitter dregs filled the air around them. The convoy rolled through the main gates under a sky the color of lead, the armored vehicles and bloodied warriors a stark contrast to the festive banners from the Celebration of Unity that still hung, now looking like faded relics from a more naive time.
Kael was the first to emerge from the lead vehicle. He moved with a stiff, deliberate grace, the freshly sealed wounds on his flank pulling with every step. He had donned a clean, dark tunic, but nothing could mask the air of raw, unspoken turmoil that clung to him. He was a king returning to his throne with the crown of his heritage feeling like a cage of thorns.
