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The ember crown

Ishu_Timothy
7
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Synopsis
In the ancient kingdom of Elarion, where silver rivers carved through emerald valleys and white spires pierced the sky, there once existed a relic whispered about in both reverence and fear: the Ember Crown. Forged in an age when dragons still circled the mountains and the veil between realms was thin, the Crown was said to contain a living flame—an eternal ember gifted by celestial beings to the first monarch of Elarion. That flame did not burn with heat alone. It burned with balance. It tempered light with shadow, wrath with mercy, ambition with wisdom. As long as the Crown rested upon the rightful ruler’s brow, harmony endured across the land. Centuries ago, on a night swallowed by unnatural eclipse, the Ember Crown vanished. Some claimed it was stolen by traitors within the court. Others whispered that it chose to disappear, sensing corruption within the royal bloodline. A darker rumor insisted that the Shadowborn—ancient beings exiled beyond mortal sight—had reclaimed what they believed was stolen from them at the dawn of creation. Whatever the truth, the result was undeniable. Without the Ember Crown, the boundaries protecting Elarion weakened. Crops began to fail in distant provinces. Strange creatures were sighted along forest borders. People spoke of nightmares that felt less like dreams and more like warnings. Yet centuries passed, and memory dulled. The Crown became legend. The creeping darkness became an inconvenience rather than a terror. Until it began to grow. Aiden Vale had never cared much for legends. At twenty years old, he had spent more time with crumbling manuscripts than with living companions. As an apprentice archivist within the Grand Royal Library of Elarion, he preferred dust-covered scrolls to the clang of swords in the courtyard below. He was slender, pale from long hours indoors, with dark hair that fell into his eyes whenever he forgot to tie it back. Those eyes, sharp and thoughtful, missed little—though few ever noticed him long enough to realize it. The library was his sanctuary. Towering shelves spiraled upward in concentric rings, connected by delicate bridges of carved stone. Sunlight filtered through stained glass windows depicting heroic battles and divine miracles. Aiden’s daily routine rarely changed: catalog, restore, transcribe, research. He found comfort in patterns, in the certainty that knowledge followed rules. He did not consider himself brave. He did not aspire to greatness. But destiny rarely consults preference. It began with a misfiled manuscript. While reorganizing a neglected corner of the Restricted Wing—a section few visited unless granted special permission—Aiden discovered a thin volume tucked behind a false backing of wood. The binding was cracked, the leather brittle with age. No record of it existed in the catalog registry. That alone stirred his curiosity. He carried it to his desk beneath a hanging lantern and carefully opened it. Inside was not a story. It was a map. Drawn in fading crimson ink, the parchment depicted the kingdom of Elarion—but altered. Mountain ranges shifted. Rivers forked where none existed. At the center, marked by a symbol resembling a crown engulfed in flame, lay a location unrecognized by modern geography. Beneath it, written in an archaic dialect of Old Elaric, were three words: “Where shadow kneels.” Aiden’s pulse quickened. He spent days translating marginal notes scribbled along the map’s edges. References emerged to the Ember Crown. To rituals of sealing. To a vault hidden beyond the known borders of the kingdom. The handwriting matched that of Archivist Theron, a scholar executed two centuries prior for treason against the crown. Why would a traitor map the location of Elarion’s most sacred relic? Unless he had sought to protect it. Aiden wrestled with doubt. Bringing this discovery to the royal council might earn recognition—or accusation. The political climate in Elarion had grown tense. King Aldric IV ruled with increasing paranoi
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Chapter 1 - The ember crown

📖 Chapter One

The Boy in the Library

The Royal Library of Elarion was silent — the kind of silence that pressed against the ears and made even breathing feel disrespectful.

Tall stained-glass windows filtered golden light across endless rows of ancient books. Dust floated lazily in the air like drifting spirits. Shelves stretched upward so high they disappeared into shadow.

And at the center of it all sat Aiden Vale.

He adjusted his glasses — a nervous habit — and carefully brushed dust from a cracked leather tome older than his grandfather's grandfather.

Most people in Elarion trained with swords.

Others trained with magic.

Aiden trained with pages.

At twenty years old, he was already one of the youngest archivists ever assigned to the restricted wing of the Royal Library. His mind was sharp, precise — he could remember entire passages after reading them once.

But bravery?

That was something books couldn't teach.

From outside the open balcony doors, he could hear the distant clang of swords in the courtyard. Knights training. Laughing. Competing.

Aiden glanced toward the sound for only a moment before lowering his gaze again.

"I don't belong out there," he muttered softly.

He belonged here — among ink, parchment, and forgotten stories.

Or so he believed.

The Forbidden Section

The restricted wing was not meant for apprentices to explore freely. But tonight, something unusual had caught Aiden's attention.

A book had been misplaced.

That almost never happened.

Every manuscript had its precise location. Aiden knew them all. But this one — an old volume bound in deep crimson leather — had been tucked behind a false shelf.

His heart pounded slightly.

"Strange…"

He pulled it free.

No title.

No author.

Only a symbol burned into the cover — a crown surrounded by flames.

The moment his fingers brushed the symbol, warmth pulsed through his hand.

He almost dropped it.

The air in the room shifted.

He hesitated… then opened it.

The Ember Crown

The first page was written in ancient Elarian script — a dialect few could still read.

Fortunately for the kingdom, Aiden could.

He leaned closer, whispering as he translated.

"When shadow devours the horizon and kings fall to fear,

Seek the Crown born of living flame.

Hidden where fire meets stone,

Guarded by oath and blood.

Only the worthy shall command its power."

Aiden's throat tightened.

The Ember Crown.

It wasn't just legend?

Every child in Elarion knew the bedtime story. The artifact forged by the first Flame King. The relic that once balanced light and darkness across the realm.

But historians considered it myth.

A metaphor.

Not real.

And yet… here was documentation. Specific. Detailed.

His pulse quickened.

If this was real — if the Crown truly existed — it could explain the recent strange events across the kingdom:

Crops failing near the northern borders

Villages swallowed by unnatural mist

Creatures appearing where none had been for centuries

Darkness was rising.

And the Crown had vanished long ago.

The Hidden Compartment

As Aiden turned another page, something thin slipped from between the parchment sheets.

A folded piece of vellum.

His fingers trembled as he opened it.

A map.

Not of the kingdom as it stood today — but older. Marked with faded ink and strange symbols. At the bottom corner was the same flame-crown insignia.

One location was circled.

The Ashen Veil Mountains.

A place no one dared to enter.

A place whispered about in taverns as cursed.

Aiden swallowed hard.

This wasn't just an old legend.

This was a trail.

And somehow… it had found him.

Footsteps in the Dark

A sudden sound echoed behind him.

Footsteps.

Not light and hurried like a fellow apprentice.

Heavy.

Deliberate.

Aiden quickly folded the map and slid it inside his vest.

The crimson book followed.

He turned just as Master Corvin stepped into the lantern light.

The head archivist's silver hair shimmered like moonlight. His sharp eyes missed very little.

"Aiden," Corvin said calmly. "It is well past closing hours."

"I— I lost track of time, Master," Aiden replied, trying to steady his voice.

Corvin's gaze lingered on the empty shelf behind him.

"Indeed."

The silence stretched.

For a terrifying second, Aiden wondered if Corvin knew.

If he had been testing him.

Finally, Corvin spoke again.

"Be careful what knowledge you pursue, my boy. Some stories are buried for a reason."

Aiden's stomach tightened.

"Yes, Master."

Corvin turned and disappeared back into the darkness of the corridor.

But his words lingered in the air like smoke.

The Decision

Alone once more, Aiden's hands shook.

He pressed his back against the shelf.

This was madness.

He was an archivist. A scholar.

Not a hero.

Not a warrior.

Yet…

If the Crown was real…

If darkness was returning…

If no one else knew…

Then maybe…

Maybe this was his chance.

His chance to be more than the quiet boy in the library.

His chance to prove himself.

Aiden slowly reached into his vest and unfolded the map again.

The circled mark over the Ashen Veil Mountains seemed to glow faintly in the candlelight.

He inhaled deeply.

Then whispered the words that would change his life forever:

"I'm going."

Outside the library windows, clouds rolled across the moon.

And far beyond the kingdom walls…

Something ancient stirred.