Newfear

At the moment the throne fell and shattered before everyone's eyes, it wasn't the crowd's screams that filled the hall. Instead, there was silence... a heavy, suffocating silence, as if time itself had stopped, awed by this radical shift in Arcadia.

That moment, which some had feared would lead to chaos and collapse, became the beginning of something new... something far greater than a mere change in power. It was not just a shift in authority; it was the reshaping of what had once been thought unshakable.

The hall was drowned in an eerie stillness, as though the world itself had paused, holding its breath for what was to come. It was not a silence of reverence or mourning but a silence charged with tension and unease. The air was thick with a mixture of emotions... shock, dread, and anticipation... each one pressing down on those who stood witness to history unfolding.

At the foot of the shattered throne lay the lifeless body of King Blatir, draped beneath the velvet balcony curtains, hastily torn down and cast over him by Sir Variss in one final, futile act of respect. Yet even with the body hidden, the crimson stain creeping from beneath the fabric seared itself into the minds of all present, a silent proclamation of an era's demise... an era that had crumbled before it could truly begin, buried beneath dust and ruin.

And amidst this ruin, Talia Vanheim moved.

Her steps were slow, hesitant, as if she were walking over the wreckage of a bygone world. She could not bring herself to look at the motionless figure on the ground, for every time she tried, a cold wave swept through her, threatening to pull her under a tide of emotions she was not yet ready to face.

This was her father... the duke whom all had feared. And now, he was nothing more than a lifeless body, concealed beneath a piece of cloth.

Her hands trembled as she clenched them into fists, struggling to steady herself. But she knew this moment was not hers alone; it belonged to the world. There was no room for weakness now.

She lifted her head and slowly turned, meeting the eyes of the gathered crowd.

Nobles, knights, military commanders... even commoners who had slipped into the hall... all watched her intently, waiting for her next move.

Would she crumble?

Would she swear loyalty to another?

Would she retreat?

She did none of those things.

Instead, she slowly raised a hand and drew a folded document from the sash of her gown, her every motion capturing the attention of all present.

The silence in the hall had grown so stifling that even the faintest breaths could be heard. No one knew what the document contained, but everyone could feel that whatever came next would change everything.

Her eyes gleamed with sharp resolve as she unfolded the paper, her fingers steady... despite the slight tremor she could not entirely suppress.

Talia: "This scroll…"

She paused, drawing in a deep breath, then continued, her voice firm and unwavering.

Talia: "This scroll holds the truth that so many have tried to bury. A truth that has remained hidden in the shadows... but now, it is time for it to see the light."

The gathered nobles and knights watched her every movement, as if afraid that the words she was about to utter would alter their fates forever.

And when Talia spoke the fatal words…

Thalia: "This is not just a piece of paper… it is the end of the lie we have all lived with for years… and the end of those who played a part in creating it."

She raised her gaze, her voice unwavering.

Thalia: "It is… a letter written by the late Duke, Lucas Nightover."

The words were not loud, but their weight made the very air in the hall still, as if the entire space had been suspended in a moment between life and death.

A feeling beyond description gripped the crowd... a mixture of shock and horror, as if the walls themselves had suddenly closed in, as if the very ground had betrayed its solidity.

For a brief instant, time seemed frozen, yet hearts pounded wildly, trembling under the weight of what was to come.

Some found their breaths short, as if the air had thickened, refusing to be drawn into their lungs. Fear slithered through their veins, coiling around their nerves like a serpent tightening its grip.

Eyes met in silent distress.

Nobles, lords, members of the royal court... everyone present, from the heads of ruling families to the lowest aides, exchanged uneasy glances. Their gazes were laced with one thing... fear of the truth contained within that letter.

Some turned pale, while others began to sweat profusely, their fingers twitching near the hilts of their swords, as though preparing to flee or fight at a moment's notice.

But there was no escape.

Everything was clear now... this document was not just ink on paper, not just the remnants of a man long gone. It was a ticking time bomb, and its countdown had already begun.

For some, that letter would be their end.

An unseen tremor ran through the air, as if the entire hall braced itself for the collapse of something far greater... something from which not all would emerge unscathed.

This was the moment the world was split into before and after. The old order had fallen, and something new was already creeping forward, leaving no room for retreat.

And one truth stood clear to all:

The old era was over.

And now, they stood on the threshold of a new era... an era where there would be no place for the weak or the fearful… only for those strong enough to face the truth.

Talia, her voice quiet yet as sharp as a blade: "I spoke with Duke Lucas Nightover Since the start of the Battle of Draxul. He told me, in absolute clarity, what would happen if my father took the throne… And it has come to pass."

The silence in the hall was suffocating, as if everyone had stopped breathing for a moment, waiting for the next words to fall like a hammer upon their heads.

Talia, her eyes unwavering as she continued: "He told me that my father ascending the throne… would be the greatest mistake in the kingdom's history."

Faces froze, gazes turned to stone. Some did not grasp the meaning immediately, but the weight of the words seeped into them slowly, like poison coursing through their veins.

Only then did Talia turn toward the large window, where the moonlight reflected off the glass, casting a pale glow upon the hall, as if time itself bore silent witness to this moment. A memory slipped into her mind, pulling her away from this place, back to a day she did not yet know would mark a turning point.

She had been walking in the royal garden, under the moonlight, where the autumn leaves drifted gently around her, as if belonging to another world... one that refused to be part of the coming reality. Her white dress flowed with the breeze.

And when she looked ahead… she saw him.

Lucas Nightover stood beneath a towering tree, watching the leaves swirl in the air. His gaze held no warmth, only something closer to prophecy... a sorrow that precedes the storm.

At that moment, Talia did not yet realize that his words that day would not be a mere warning, but the very truth under which the kingdom would collapse.

Talia, She approached him quietly and announced: "Duke Nightover, it seems fate has brought us together at this moment."

Lucas, responded with cold composure, without turning to her: "Lady Thalia."

Talia, offered a slight smile before teasing, "I thought you preferred not to stay around when a Vanheim was present."

Lucas, He replied gently but absently, lost in thought: "You are right. I do… and that is precisely why I am here."

Talia fell silent for a moment, her eyes tracing the ground at her feet, her thoughts scattered. When she lifted her head, the words flowed from her lips as if drawn from the depths of her heart.

Talia, in a quiet but firm voice: "My father wants the throne."

Lucas, his fingers gently brushing against the leaves of the tree, raised an eyebrow in surprise, then sighed softly, a faint smile playing on his lips... a smile tinged with both irony and wisdom.

Lucas: "Well... thank you for your honesty."

Talia, taking a step forward with determination gleaming in her eyes, her voice rising slightly: "I am serious, Duke Lucas. My father will stop at nothing to claim the throne... he will do the impossible to sit upon it."

Lucas nodded in understanding, but his eyes remained fixed on the tree before him.

Lucas: "Everyone wants it. But are they worthy of it?"

Talia: "But my father is the strongest of them all. He holds military power, wealth, and status. Surely, he is the most suitable."

Lucas, with a sardonic smile: "You're mistaken. Your father… and every lord in Dreamcrown… are unworthy of that throne."

Talia, without hesitation: "And you? Are you worthy?"

Lucas, lowering his gaze to the ground: "I said 'every lord'… so yes. None of us are, especially when hope lies elsewhere."

They both paused, the air growing heavier. The cold wind stirring the trees passed between them, and the world seemed to hold its breath. At last, Talia spoke again, her smile soft.

Talia: "Do you still believe in that prophecy?"

Lucas, lost in thought, answered with a tone that wavered between certainty and despair.

Lucas: "It is not a prophecy. That person will emerge... inevitably. And he's the only one who will be able to unite this kingdom, torn apart by corrupt powers. And if your father takes the throne…"

He paused for a moment, his eyes catching the silver light reflected from the nearby water.

Lucas: "The kingdom will fall. And it will be the greatest mistake in its history."

Talia, she took a deep breath before asking: "But you'll be there to stop it, won't you?"

Lucas met her gaze with piercing eyes, then whispered: "If your father takes the throne… I will be dead."

Talia froze in place, her heart pounding in an unfamiliar rhythm. There was something strange about what she had just heard. She hesitated before questioning him again, trying to understand his meaning.

Talia: "Why?… Will you take your own life? Or do you expect my father to execute you?"

Lucas, looking at her directly, his composure finally breaking: "Because I will not allow it. I will fight, to my last breath, to keep that man from sitting on the kingdom's throne."

Talia, her eyes widening in shock and disbelief: "…Then, What do you want me to do?

Lucas, smiling faintly: "I knew you would understand."

From his pocket, Lucas drew out a black scroll, bearing a white seal, and extended it to her.

Lucas: "When the time comes, this will be your chance... To achieve what you wished for more than anything in this kingdom.

A moment of silence, filled with profound astonishment. Talia held her breath for a second. Lucas's words were heavy, cryptic, terrifying.

Talia: "What do you mean?!... If you mean the throne, I never cared to sit on that cold stone in my life.

Lucas takes a step closer and says in a low voice.

Lucas: "No... I meant something else. YouYour most desire in this life... is the fall of Blatir Vanheim's rule... to end the chaos that has plagued this kingdom for generations."

Talia, Her eyes widen nervously. remained utterly silent, her mind consumed by turmoil and conflicting emotions, unable to fully grasp what was unfolding.

Lucas: "I know those who do not seek the throne when I see them. And you… I believe you are capable of bringing the change you've always dreamed of... not just for your family's name, but for the entire kingdom."

Lucas took a deep breath before adding, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that left no room for doubt.

Lucas: "This scroll… may be your key. Keep it safe, and let it be your guide when the kingdom's fate reaches its turning point."

Talia's heart raced, but she remained silent, hesitant, unable to escape the weight now resting upon her shoulders. With every glance, with every passing second, the world seemed to grow more complex.

Then, she was pulled back to reality, where the hall before her was on the verge of erupting into chaos. Some present were still in shock, unable to process what they had heard, while all eyes... pale and wide... were fixated on the black scroll in her hands. They watched it with an intensity that could shatter stone, charged with tension and anticipation, as if every second that passed sent their hearts pounding to an unbearable rhythm.