Kingdom of the Forgotten Sun

Kael awoke to the scent of pine, rain, and roasting cow.

He was lying on a bed of moss and furs inside a crude hut, somewhere in the forest far beyond his kingdom's borders. He sat up slowly, head pounding. His last memory was of standing at the edge of a battle map. And now... this?

Outside, laughter echoed. Not the cruel, drunken kind he was used to from court feasts, but warm, raucous and full of life.

He stepped out to find a festival in full swing.

It was a village—no, a traveling camp of nomads. And they were celebrating something that involved wildly painted horses, tumbling acrobats, and a goat wearing a crown. The goat, Kael would later learn, had won a race against three drunk warriors and one very determined child.

"Ah, he wakes!" cried a voice.

Kael turned to see a woman approaching. Tall, bronze-skinned, with silver tattoos that glowed faintly in the firelight. She tossed him an apple.

"You're lucky we found you before the buzzards did. What's your name, stranger?"

Kael hesitated. For once, he considered lying. But something about this place... felt sacred. Honest.

"Kael."

The woman's brows rose. "As in Kael Kael? From the East?"

"Depends who's asking."

"Depends who's listening," she shot back. Then she grinned. "I'm Vireya. Chief of the Winding Flame. Welcome to the last free tribe."

He took a bite of the apple. It was tart, almost too fresh. "What are you celebrating?"

"Our victory. We just burned a royal tax outpost to the ground."

Kael choked. "You what?"

"Relax. No one died. Well... one chicken. But it was already an outlaw."

Kael laughed for the first time in weeks.

Vireya studied him. "You're not just a lost soldier, are you?"

"No," he said. "I'm a prince who walked away from his crown."

"Good," she said, grabbing a drink and handing it to him. "We need more of those."

The night roared with flames and laughter.

And Kael, the boy with no name, danced with outlaws as the stars watched a kingdom being born in secret.