The rejected crown

Prologe

In the 15th century

The throne was cold and empty, draped in the shadows of a past that felt like a distant memory. King Alaric lay buried beneath the earth, and with his passing, the kingdom had begun to unravel. His final act—a declaration that his daughter, Princess Giovanna, would be his heir—echoed through the halls like a death knell. No woman had ever ruled this realm, and whispers of dissent filled the air, undermining the very foundation of her claim.

As Giovanna stood in the great hall, the weight of her father's legacy pressed heavily upon her shoulders. She could feel the eyes of the courtiers upon her, cold and calculating, each gaze a reminder of the skepticism that surrounded her. The lords who had once bowed before her father now conspired in hushed tones, their loyalty wavering like the flickering candles that lined the walls. In their minds, she was not the rightful heir but a fragile girl unfit to bear the crown.

Far from the eyes of the court, hidden within the crooked alleys of a small, forgotten village, Jane lived as a shadow. Branded a witch, she had fled from the wrath of the crown and found refuge only by hiding in plain sight. With her mother at her side, Jane sold quiet spells and charms to desperate villagers, each secret exchange earning her enough gold to survive another day. But no hiding place was ever truly safe. She knew the hunters would come eventually, and when they did, there would be no mercy.

One hunter in particular had made it his mission. Ser Edweyn was a knight bound by honor and duty, sworn to rid the realm of witches. His sword had struck down many, fueled by an unwavering belief that magic brought only chaos. He moved through the land like a shadow, relentless and unforgiving, with no room for questions or mercy. To him, the world was black and white—witches were enemies, and enemies must be vanquished. But as he hunted, whispers of doubt began to creep into his heart, challenging the very foundation of his resolve. Were they all as wicked as he had been led to believe?

And then, Ezra arrived—a stranger out of time, carrying the weight of knowledge that did not belong to this world. He came with warnings, fragments of the future etched into his mind. If they did not heed him, the realm would burn. He had seen it: war swallowing the land, the throne stained with blood, and choices that would shape not just this age but all those to come. Yet Ezra knew that changing the future required more than mere words. The pieces were already in motion—Giovanna's claim, Jane's fury, and Edweyn's oath—and if even one of them faltered, the future he feared would become inevitable.