The Phoenix King #1 Bed of Ashes

Chapter 1 Royal Promises

Űnin Jöiten, a young elvish boy descended from the giants themselves, found himself in a place he knew he wasn't supposed to be, at the heart of Jöithelm's market. The bustling market was a vibrant tapestry of life, filled with the sights, sounds, and smells of a kingdom that thrived despite its underlying tensions. Stalls lined the cobbled streets, their colorful awnings flapping in the gentle breeze, as merchants shouted to advertise their wares.

He walked through the market with an air of youthful excitement. He wore his simple underclothes—a linen tunic and trousers—making him look more like a commoner than the prince he was. This allowed him to blend in with the crowd, unnoticed by most.

As Űnin wandered through the market, the grandeur of Jöithelm unfolded around him. The city crawled up the steep slopes of Mount Jöithelm, with buildings carved directly from the mountainside. The towering citadels above cast long shadows over the bustling streets below. He marveled at the intricate stonework, etched with ancient runes of protection that gleamed softly on the walls, a reflection of the city's storied past and the giants who once ruled these lands.

Űnin's path took him past a group of guards discussing recent events. "The queen's doing her best, but without King Ulysses, our alliances feel shakier than ever," one guard said, his voice low and concerned.

Another guard nodded. "True. The treaties were his doing. Queen Ophelia is wise, but it's been near three years now, some of our allies doubt her."

Űnin paused, pretending to examine a nearby stall, his long ears twitched as he listened. The guards' conversation reminded him of the fragile peace that hung over Jöithelm. His mother, Queen Ophelia, was the only pillar left, holding the kingdom up after his father's heroic death. Yet, the allied kingdoms viewed her with suspicion, questioning her ability to lead and uphold the treaties forged by King Ulysses.

With his green eyes downcast to avoid recognition by the guards, he slinked past them, not wanting to hear more of the people's unrest. The weight of the kingdom's uncertainty pressed heavily on his young shoulders, and he yearned for a moment of respite from the burden of his lineage. The lively market offered a temporary escape, but the murmurs of doubt and the shadow of his father's legacy were never far behind.

Űnin continued through the market, strolling past a fruit stall, the vendor, a faun with a kind face, antler-like horns, and twinkling eyes, called out to him. "Fresh apples, m'lord? The juiciest in all of Jöithelm!"

Űnin brushed his rust-colored hair hung out of his eyes, tucking a strand behind his ear. At the sight of the ripe, red apples his mouth watered. He fished a silver coin out of his pocket and handed it to the woman. "Hi, miss Lyria, I'll take one, please."

Lyria, her deer-like legs gracefully moving behind the stall, handed him an apple with a warm, welcoming smile. "Enjoy, young master. You remind me of someone I used to know... a bit of a rascal, just like you."

Űnin chuckled, taking a bite of the apple. "Thank you, Lyria. Your apples are always the best," he said, savoring the sweet, crisp flavor. "And I promise to keep my mischief to a minimum."

Űnin grinned, biting into the apple and savoring its sweet, crisp flavor. "Thank you, ma'am." He continued through the market, munching on the apple and taking in the lively atmosphere around him.

Next, he approached a stall selling various trinkets and baubles. The shop owner, a middle-aged man with a bushy beard and a twinkle of mischief in his eye, noticed Űnin's interest. "Ah, a young adventurer, I see. Looking for something special?"

Űnin's eyes sparkled as he examined the items on display. "Do you have anything... magical?"

The shop owner chuckled, leaning in conspiratorially. "I might have just the thing." He reached under the counter and pulled out a small, intricately carved wooden box. Opening it, he revealed a delicate necklace with a pendant shaped like a thunderbolt.