Title: The Last King of Ashara
In the forgotten land of Ashara, where the sky burned crimson at dusk and ancient ruins whispered of lost empires, a boy named Arin lived as a servant in the royal stables.
He had no family. No past. Only a strange birthmark on his chest — shaped like a crown.
Every night, he dreamed of fire… and a throne surrounded by bones.
One evening, as a storm raged across the capital, the old stable master grabbed Arin's arm.
"Run," the man whispered, eyes filled with terror. "They have found you."
Before Arin could ask anything, the palace gates exploded inward.
Creatures made of shadow poured into the courtyard — tall, faceless beings with burning red eyes.
The soldiers' swords passed through them like smoke.
People screamed.
The king fell.
And the world changed.
Arin ran blindly into the forest until his legs gave out. When he woke, dawn light filtered through the trees… and someone was standing over him.
An old warrior woman, her armor cracked but her gaze sharp as steel.
"So," she said, studying his birthmark, "the bloodline survives."
"Who… who are you?" Arin asked.
"Your last chance to live," she replied. "Or die like the rest of your family."
Her name was Kaela — once the commander of Ashara's royal guard.
She told him a truth no one had dared speak for twenty years.
Arin was not a servant.
He was the lost prince.
The rightful king.
And the shadow creatures were not monsters…
They were hunters sent by the Void Emperor, the being who destroyed Ashara's ancient dynasty.
"You survived because your mother hid you," Kaela said. "But now the magic protecting you is gone."
Arin's hands trembled. "I'm not a king. I don't even know how to fight."
Kaela drew a sword and thrust it into the ground before him.
"Then learn. Because the world will burn if you don't."
Years passed.
Under Kaela's brutal training, Arin became something else — faster, stronger, sharper than any knight.
But power came with nightmares.
Every time he touched fire, it bent toward him.
Every time he was angry, the air trembled.
"Your blood carries the Flame of Ashara," Kaela warned. "The same power that once ruled the world… and destroyed it."
One winter night, the sky split open.
A massive tear of darkness appeared above the mountains.
From it descended a towering figure cloaked in void — tall as a fortress, eyes like dying stars.
The Void Emperor had come himself.
Cities fell in hours.
Armies vanished.
Hope died.
Arin stood on a cliff overlooking the burning land that was once his home.
"I'm afraid," he admitted.
Kaela rested a hand on his shoulder. "Good. Only fools feel no fear."
"What if I lose?"
She smiled faintly. "Then lose as a king."
The battlefield was silent when Arin arrived.
The Void Emperor's voice echoed across the sky.
"Another human comes to die."
Arin stepped forward, flames igniting around his body like a living crown.
"I am not just human," he said quietly.
"I am the last king of Ashara."
The ground shattered as power erupted.
Fire met darkness.
Light clashed with void.
Mountains crumbled.
The sky itself screamed.
In the final moment, as the Emperor's shadow engulfed him, Arin remembered the faces of everyone who had died… everyone who had believed in him.
And he chose not fear.
But sacrifice.
With a roar that shook the heavens, he released every drop of his power.
A sun was born on the battlefield.
When the light faded, the Void Emperor was gone.
So was Arin.
Only ashes remained… glowing faintly like embers.
From those ashes, a small flame flickered.
Then another.
And another.
Far away, in a quiet village, a child was born that same night — with a crown-shaped mark on his chest.
The legend had not ended.
It had begun again.