The Heir of Ash and Iron

Iron and Ash - Act I: The Seeds of Resentment

The kingdom stretched across fertile plains and glittering rivers, its capital city a marvel of stone and elegance, revered across the realm. In its center stood the palace, a sprawling fortress of marble and iron that housed the royal family. The king, a man of indomitable will and cold logic, ruled with an iron fist, commanding respect through his uncompromising sense of justice. His people feared him, but they also thrived under his rule. Wealth flowed, cities prospered, and the king's legacy grew stronger with each passing year.

Within the palace, the queen was the kingdom's heart, known for her kindness and gentle nature. She often moved among the people in secret, bringing aid to the sick and comforting the poor. Her grace and compassion balanced the king's stern rule, and together they were the pillars of the realm. Despite her noble duties, the queen's greatest joy was her young son, the prince.

The prince, only six years old, was a bright and sensitive child, brimming with curiosity and innocence. He was eager to please both his parents, yet he was far closer to his mother, who nurtured his natural kindness. She taught him about the world's beauty, about empathy, and about the responsibilities he would one day bear as ruler. The boy adored her, clinging to her side whenever he could, filling her days with laughter and love. She called him her "little light," a phrase that made him beam with pride.

The king, though less openly affectionate, regarded his son with a certain pride. He had high hopes for the boy, seeing in him the potential to one day lead their kingdom. But he did not show love as the queen did; instead, he kept his distance, observing the prince from afar, assessing him as one might a tool waiting to be sharpened. He believed in discipline over sentiment, in strength over gentleness. The boy, he knew, would need to learn these lessons in time.

For now, the prince lived a charmed life, safe in the knowledge that his family was invincible, that his parents would always protect him. But this happiness was fragile, hanging by a thread that would soon unravel.

It started with a small cough. The queen, who had always been vibrant and full of life, began to look pale, her energy waning as if a shadow had fallen over her. The court physicians were summoned, but their remedies did little to ease her suffering. Days passed, and the queen's condition worsened. The people of the kingdom, upon hearing of her illness, began to hold vigils, praying for her recovery. She was their beacon of hope, and her suffering cast a pall over the entire realm.

Inside the palace, the prince grew increasingly anxious. He visited his mother every day, sitting by her bedside as she rested, her hand warm but frail in his. She would smile weakly and tell him stories, her voice soft yet strained, trying to reassure him even as her strength faded. "My little light," she would murmur, stroking his hair. "You must be brave and kind, no matter what happens."

The prince didn't understand why his mother was suffering. He only knew that each day she seemed weaker, her eyes clouded with a pain she tried to hide. The helplessness weighed on him, a feeling he was too young to name but which filled him with dread. He clung to her words, promising himself that he would be the kind and gentle leader she wanted him to become.

The king, meanwhile, grew desperate. The queen was not only his wife but the sole bearer of warmth in his life. She was his one vulnerability, and her suffering became his torment. He could not bear the thought of losing her, not when he wielded so much power. He ordered his physicians to find a cure, threatening exile or worse if they failed. But as the days turned into weeks and no cure could be found, the king's desperation grew, giving way to a dark, simmering rage.

Late one night, as the moon hung low in the sky, the king summoned a figure whom he would not have otherwise allowed near his court—a witch doctor from the depths of the kingdom's great forest. The woman arrived cloaked in shadows, her face obscured by veils, her eyes glinting like embers. She carried with her an air of mystery and menace, her very presence unsettling the guards who watched her enter the palace.