Book One: Throne of Cinder and Shadow

P R O L O G U E: Ardyn

The village of Ardyn burned beneath a sky swollen with black smoke, thick and heavy as it blotted out the stars. The fire raged with a fury that seemed almost alive, twisting through thatched roofs and wrapping around cottages like serpents of flame. Sparks and embers danced in the air, casting an eerie, flickering light over the chaos below. The once peaceful hamlet, tucked at the very edge of the kingdom, had been reduced to a crumbling ruin in a single, merciless night.

Amidst the inferno, screams echoed - shrieks of fear and pain, desperate cries for help swallowed by the roar of destruction. Figures ran in every direction, their silhouettes barely visible against the blaze. In the heart of it all, Delphi stumbled through the smoke, her lungs burning with each ragged breath. The acrid air stung her eyes, but still, she pushed forward, her small frame dwarfed by the nightmarish scene unfolding around her.

She was only six. Barely old enough to understand the world beyond her village, and yet, tonight she had seen more terror than most would in a lifetime. Her home, her family, her world - it was all gone, swallowed by the flames.

She clutched the remnants of her mother's cloak, frayed at the edges and soaked with ash, pulling it tightly around her thin shoulders as if it might somehow shield her from the nightmare. In her other hand, she held a doll, its fabric face blackened from soot, its once-bright dress charred. She couldn't let it go. It was all she had left.

"Mother should be back by now," she whispered to the doll, her voice trembling as tears welled up in her eyes. The last thing her mother had said was to stay hidden. Don't move. Be brave. Then she'd kissed Delphi's forehead, whispered a promise to return, and vanished into the burning night. But that promise was now a fading memory, swept away by the chaos.

Through the shifting veil of smoke, Delphi caught sight of figures moving in the distance—dark shapes outlined against the fire. Soldiers. Their blackened armor gleamed in the firelight, and their shields bore the sigil of the crown. They weren't raiders. These were the king's men—the soldiers of King Elias, sworn to protect the people of Aralhedae. Her mother had always spoken so highly of them, of how they would keep them safe. But there was no salvation in their eyes tonight. Only death.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched them move through the village, their swords slick with blood, their movements methodical and cold. They were hunting. And they were closing in.

A shadow fell over her. Delphi froze, her breath catching in her throat. One of the soldiers stood above her, his iron helm obscuring his face, but there was no mistaking the intent behind his raised sword. The blade glinted cruelly in the firelight as he stepped forward, slow and deliberate, like a wolf stalking wounded prey.

Panic surged through Delphi's tiny body. She wanted to run, to scream, but her legs betrayed her, weak from fear and exhaustion. She collapsed into the mud, tears streaming down her face as the soldier towered over her, his sword poised to strike.

Just as the blade descended, a figure moved through the smoke—swift and silent as a shadow. Before Delphi could even comprehend what was happening, the soldier was hurled backward, his body crashing into the burning wreckage of a nearby cottage. A flash of blue light flickered in the corner of her vision, but the source of it was already hidden beneath the deep folds of a hooded cloak.

A man knelt beside her, his face partially obscured by the hood's shadow. His eyes, though, shone in the firelight, an unnatural glow of icy blue cutting through the darkness. "We must go," he said, his voice low and urgent, but calm. Too calm, given the devastation around them. Without waiting for her to respond, he scooped Delphi into his arms, his grip firm but gentle, as if he'd done this a thousand times before.

Delphi didn't protest. She had no strength left. Her head lolled against the man's chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a strange comfort amidst the chaos. Her emerald eyes fluttered shut, her lashes sticky with ash and tears. She let herself be carried, the world around her fading into a blur of fire and smoke.

The man moved swiftly, navigating the burning village with an ease that seemed almost unnatural. He wove between collapsing buildings and the chaos of fleeing villagers, dodging falling timbers and sidestepping the soldiers who still roamed the streets. His steps were sure, his movements deliberate, as though he knew every inch of this place, as though he had walked these paths before, long ago.

As they reached the outskirts of the village, Delphi opened her eyes, just for a moment. The flames had consumed almost everything, the village now a sea of fire. And in the distance, the dark shapes of soldiers continued their grim work, cutting down anyone who tried to flee. The man paused at the edge of the trees, looking back at the devastation. His lips moved, but the words were too soft for her to hear.

"Who... are you?" Delphi croaked, her voice barely a whisper, rough from smoke and fear.

The man looked down at her, his glowing eyes softening for just a moment. A faint, almost sad smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "A friend," he murmured. "For now, that's all you need to know."

Delphi didn't understand, but she was too tired to ask more. As the man carried her into the shadows of the forest, away from the burning village, she felt the weight of the night finally settle on her. Her small body ached, her heart heavy with loss. But even in her exhaustion, she sensed that this was only the beginning. The flames of Ardyn had not just destroyed her village; they had sparked something far greater—something ancient and powerful, lurking beneath the surface of the world.

Delphi would survive. But the girl she had been was gone, burned away with the village. And from the ashes, something new would rise.