The Realm of Kings

Fire and Ash

Axel's toes burn as though walking over hot coals. His feet were barely carrying him forward. Fire burns through the wood in the fire pit. Beside it, a small wooden shack with smoke billowing from its chimney. He shuffles towards it, stumbling to the door and pushing it open with his shoulder. Heat rushes in to greet him, providing some relief, but he worries as numbness creep up his fingers. A whimper comes from behind him and turning around, he spots a young child and an older woman cowering together under a table.Axel nervously glances around the room and clears his throat."I mean no harm," he says, raising both of his hands in demonstration. The woman eyes him suspiciously and lifts her chin.
"You have frostbite," she said matter-of-factually. Axel follows her gaze to the tips of his fingers, which were bright red. He could only imagine what condition his feet were in. He slowly drags a chair over to the table, causing the child to jump in surprise.

He's reluctant but lifts his bare feet to lie on his knee, revealing his toes are a pale white due. "That's a nasty burn," the woman muttered sympathetically. "I can aid you."
The woman rushes over to the fireplace to prepare pots of warm water before returning to Axel's side. She kneels down beside him and guides his wounds into the warmth of the water before moving onto treating his hands.
Axel watches as the woman's fingers moves quickly over a metal padlock, deftly unlocking it with a click. She opens the box to reveal a thick fur coat and tall leather boots, followed by a pair of gloves and a hat.
"These should protect you," she says, looking up at him. "Where are you headed?"
Axel feels his chest flutter as he smiles slightly. "Graydon."
The woman's lips part as if to give more advice, but before she could speak, shouting outside the shack interrupts her. A man stumbles through the door with urgency and scoops his family into an embrace. He then turns his gaze towards Axel, his face tight with suspicion.
"Who are you?" he asks in a low voice, pushing the women and child behind him.
Axel straightened his spine. "I'm Axel," he say's steadily, hoping to prevent any misunderstanding. "I mean no harm to your family-I just saw the fire."
"Helena," the man scolds without taking his eyes off Axel, "you know not to let strangers in. What if he was one of them?"
Helena furrowed her eyebrows and put her hands on her hips. "He's only a boy. I wasn't going to leave him with those injuries."
The man grumbles something under his breath and stands next to the door. "We are leaving," he says before turning back to Axel. "After your aid, you should too."
Helena shoots her husband an icy stare. Axel shoulders hunch as he stares at his right hand, searching for the right words. He steps away from the pool of water near his feet and manages a small smile. "I appreciate your help and the clothes, but I must be going."
Helena shakes her head but doesn't intervene with his decision. "At least let me wrap your wounds. You're still in shock and need medical attention," she says firmly, grabbing a bondage from the box.
Axel nods in agreement, feeling the gentle touch as she carefully covers his feet before tending to his hands. He tilts his head downwards, bringing his chin to his chest. The disappointment in Helena expression made his chest tighten.
"I appreciate your help and the clothes," Axel says with a smile, "but I must be going."
I'm glad to have helped. I apologies for my husbands behaviour, he is a great man." Helena lifts up the young child into her arms. "It was a pleasure meeting you, we will be heading off now. Safe travels, Axel," she says, firmly closing the door behind her, caster him into the dim ambiance of the fireplace.
Axel collapse onto the chair, gazing up at the ceiling.
This isn't a dream.
Axel reaches into his pocket to bring out the stone. It brought him here. It's the only explanation. He shakes it, no reaction. His grandfather told him to explore his destiny and true legacy, whatever that meant.

His eyes widen as he straightens. If his grandfather's stories are true, there's a war happening. Did he encounter any creatures? The forest people with the magic tunnels - who were they, exactly?

Putting on his gear, his fingers become rigid and uncooperative. He leans on the table in front of him using it as support to regain his balance, but the throbbing pain persists. The once-flaming trees now stand as skeletal silhouettes, their branches stripped bare, adorned only with burnt twigs and ash. Axel carefully traces the footsteps etched into the icy landscape, a silent prayer escaping his lips, hoping not to catch up with family who left them, but rather to be guided to safety.
With each step, the cold seeps through his fur coat, urging him to quicken his pace. The wind undergoes a subtle change, now carrying a warmer sway. Axel's boots glide effortless over the pristine snow, his determination mirroring in the rhythmic crunch beneath his feet. As he presses forward, a colossal stone wall emerges on the horizon. Stopping in his tracks, the footprints veer in another direction as the snow slowly erases the trail. Thoughts swirl in his mind, wondering if the family can lead him to safety, yet hope sparks within him as he considers finding guidance beyond the barrier.
When approaching, the walls loom larger and higher until all that is left is an expanse of cold, unyielding stone. He instinctively reaches out, his hand meeting the the textured surface before he leans heavily against it. Gazing down the sheer sides of the imposing structure, exhaustion overwhelms him. His fists collide with the wall, leaving trails of blood as a testament to his desperation. Axel rest his head in his bloodied hands to release a deep exhale.
"Axel," a voice interjects cautiously.
Turning swiftly, Axel's eyes meet Jube's, and a surge of hope washes over him, bestowing a much-needed sense of ease. "Jube, am I glad to see you."
"Likewise. I thought you didn't make it through the tunnels, so I came searching for you," Jube explains.
Axel reflects on the perilous journey. "The tunnel became unstable."
"When not accompanied, the tunnels close," Jube states.
Axel, his attention momentarily diverted, notices Jube's seemingly unaffected disposition and glances over his choice of clothing. "You're not cold?"
A moment of silence from Jube precedes a question, "Where are you from really?"
The words hang in the air as he contemplates the strangeness of his reality. "I thought I was dreaming," Axel pauses, the weight of his words sinking in, "But it turns out I woke up in another world."
Surprisingly, Jube remains unfazed by Axel's revelation, his excitement palpable. "The story is true."
Axel, wide-eyed and now grappling with the unknown, queries, "What story?"
"As a guide, I'm forbidden to provide details," Jube replies, his voice carrying a hint of secrecy, "but if you're willing to place trust in me, I can lead you where you need to go but I can't leave my people."
Without another word, Jube forcefully grasps the intricate, horned necklace that rests against his chest. He hold it out to Axel, the horned talisman swinging like a pendulum. "When the path ahead grows treacherous and you are in need, summon me. Sound the horn."
Axel secures the necklace around his neck, the cool metal resting against his skin. His gaze sweeps over the stone walls one last time, an unspoken question lingering in his eyes. "Can you guide me through?" he ventures to ask.
"With ease," comes the reply, confident and reassuring.
Jube reaches out, his palm making contact with the wall. In an instant, a passage materializes, breaking the monotonous expanse of stone. The wall gives way to a verdant field, dotted with structures mere yards away. The azure vault of the sky stretches above, a radiant sun casting a warm, familiar glow over the land.
"Again, thank you, Axel utters, stepping into the vibrant world beyond.
"But tread carefully," Jube warns, "you're entering Fenrir's territory now."
Before Axel can voice his doubts, the portal seals shut. His hand tightens around the horn, instinctively, before he releases it with a resigned sigh. Summoning Jube for a question doesn't feel worth the effort.
Sweat pearls form on his forehead. The back of his hand serves as a hasty towel, swiping away the evidence of his discomfort. He strips off his coat and hat, letting them drop unceremoniously to the ground. The wind, as though sympathetic to his plight, sends a refreshing cool breeze his way.
His fingertips skim over the wheat grass, a tantalizing texture he can't fully appreciate through his bindings. A sound, strangely familiar yet alien, pulls his attention. His eyes meet a herd of cows, but these creatures are different - larger, with broader heads.
Deciding against any potential conflict, Axel chooses to give the herd a wide berth, opting for a longer detour.
As Axel navigates through the town, he begins to form impressions about the 'King' ruling this land. The townsfolk are unkempt and grimy, their appearances a stark reflection of their harsh living conditions. A man, unbothered by the public eye, undresses in the middle of the path, bathing himself with bucket water teeming with grass trimmings.
A woman, her child clutched close, pleads beside a mound of garbage. Her desperation is palpable as she requests for any spare change, even going as far as asking Axel for his clothes. Touched by her situation, he informs her about the fur coat he'd abandoned at the right-hand border. He had never witnessed someone move with as much urgency as she did then.
The town, with its poverty and despair, leaves a bitter taste in Axel's mouth. The urge to leave builds within him, but he continues eastward, where he stumbles upon a large crowd. The atmosphere is a mix of shouts and silence, all eyes riveted to a horrifying scene.
A man is on his knees, his identity hidden under a sack. The arrival of a henchman sparks applause from the crowd. Axel's jaw slackens as the henchman thrusts the kneeling man's head into a bucket of water. The sight grips Axel's heart, his breath lodging in his throat. Unable to bear witness to the potential end of a life, he wrenches his gaze away.
"Behold Uilliam., son of Casmir, Heir to the dragon throne," a voice, as deep and resonating as a drum, announces. "Your execution is long overdue."
A king, his head adorned with a golden crown and his body clad in armor, unsheathes his sword. His eyes, a fierce blend of orange and red, glides over the crowd, drinking in their adulation. He yanks off the sack, revealing a boy barely on the cusp of manhood. In the boy's blue eyes,, Axel sees a mirror of himself, but with a crucial difference.
Uilliam spits in the king's face, a defiant laugh escaping his lips. "You didn't think I'd come here willingly, did you?"
The sound of water returns, this time with a wrathful intensity. A gust of wind, as mighty as a dragon's roar, sweeps Axel off his feet. Landing on his knees, he raises his eyes the the spectacle above - a formation of dragons circling the sky, their scales glistening in the sun, casting a formidable shadow over the town below.