CHAPTER 74: _"The Marked and the Monarchs"_
**I. Nightfall Over Flamehold**
The stars above Flamehold blinked like restless eyes. Word had spread—of a cursed prince crowned in the Ashen Vale, and of a girl whose touch could shatter fate. The skies churned with omens; kingdoms sharpened their blades. The world was watching.
Lysia stood upon a hilltop, wind tearing through her black cloak, staring down at Flamehold—the kingdom that once banished her bloodline.
"They fear you," Arien said, coming to stand beside her.
"They should," she whispered.
**II. The Spies of Silvergate**
Within a tavern nestled beneath the roots of an old pine, rebels loyal to the broken crown met in whispers. Silvergate spies had returned with tales of the cursed Queen who bore the prophecy's flame. They brought stolen scrolls, diagrams of the old temple, sketches of the rune sigils branded on Lysia's hand.
"She is the curse reborn," one said.
"No," another corrected. "She is the key to ending it."
The room fell silent. Eyes turned to the boy in the corner—the youngest rebel, barely fifteen.
"My sister died because the king feared that curse," he said. "If this girl is hope… I'll follow her."
**III. The Trial of Thrones**
In the High Halls of the Southern Crown, leaders of the remaining factions gathered. A Trial of Thrones was declared—a brutal rite where heirs, champions, and challengers clashed for right to rule. Arien and Lysia would have to enter. Not for conquest, but to stop it from falling into the wrong hands.
Lysia traced the rune on her wrist, thinking of Queen Maevira.
"I'm not doing this for power," she said. "I'm doing this so no one suffers the way we did."
**IV. The Arena of Ancients**
Carved from stone and dragonbone, the arena had seen ten generations of bloodshed. Its floor glistened with enchantments and old scars. Arien stepped forward first, facing the heir of Northholt—a warrior mage born from frost.
Their blades clashed. Magic roared. Arien's moonfire clashed with ice. But he didn't win with strength—he won with memory. He whispered the name of the boy that heir had lost during the Ice Rebellion. And the frost shattered.
**V. Lysia's Trial**
Lysia faced not a warrior—but a girl with her own curse. The Trial forced them into a mirrored battle—each seeing versions of themselves distorted by rage, grief, and lost hope.
"Is this what I'll become?" Lysia cried.
"Only if you forget why you're fighting," the mirror replied.
She dropped her blade. Let the pain speak. And when her illusion vanished, the crowd stood silent. A trial passed without violence. A queen of flame, who chose mercy.
**VI. Crown and Consequence**
The Trial ended. But the kings who ruled behind curtains sent assassins that night.
They came with poison blades, veiled in moonlight. But they didn't expect the guardians—serpents of light, birds of ash, wolves of shadow. Each bound to Arien and Lysia by the Pact.
"Let them come," Arien growled, sword raised.
"They're not here for us," Lysia said, eyes widening.
From the shadows, a child emerged. The girl with silver hair from the Vale.
"They want me," she said. "Because I'm the next."
**VII. The Curse Evolves**
Lysia touched the girl's hand. The mark appeared instantly—a third sigil. A prophecy rewriting itself.
"The curse is no longer just ours," Arien said. "It's becoming a legacy."
And the world wasn't ready for a cursed dynasty.
**VIII. War Drums Again**
The northern border erupted in fire. Armies under banners of vengeance marched south. The kings had declared open war.
Lysia and Arien stood before their people.
"No more hiding," she said. "No more kneeling. If they want a war—"
"—we'll give them a prophecy," Arien finished.
The sky burned. The wind roared. And from the ashes, a new kingdom rose.