Crown of the Cursed King

"Time may dull the blade, but it sharpens resentment."

Two weeks after Adityan's army began its march toward the western gates, the world changed once again.

Revansh, the stoic warrior prince, stood upon the battlements of Nandarak Fort, overlooking the frozen plains that had become his kingdom's heart. Clad in wolf-fur robes and flanked by his loyal commander, Dheran, he addressed the gathered crowd.

"I do not raise a banner for power," Revansh declared, voice steady as steel. "But for justice—for peace this realm has forgotten."

He stepped forward, unsheathing his father's old war blade, holding it high before the soldiers, scholars, and villagers below.

"From this day, I am no longer a prince in waiting—I am King Revansh Vajramitra of Nordrak, and no brother's throne shall command my loyalty."

The people roared in approval. What began as resistance had become sovereignty.

Six weeks later, deep within the emerald city of Vaithara, Vivaraj walked through the marble halls of the River Palace. The scent of sandalwood mixed with jasmine, and the chants of sages echoed across the courtyards. With his council of merchants, mystics, and ministers beside him, Vivaraj addressed the people of the west under the moonlit sky.

"Let Adityan keep his gold crown and iron laws," he spoke. "Here, we embrace knowledge, prosperity, and freedom. But if war is brought to our gates, we shall respond not with fear, but with fire."

His words marked the birth of King Vivaraj Vajramitra of Vaithara, and the city, adorned in riverstone, became a sovereign kingdom.

Three crowns now ruled what was once one.

And so began the Cold Decade.

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New Bonds, New Kingdoms

King Revansh, seeking strategic strength, formed an alliance with the northern Shinvu Kingdom, a realm of mountain valleys and frost-hardened warriors. His marriage to Princess Aenya Kay-Lee, the daughter of the wise King Torjin, was both political and personal.

Aenya, a fierce diplomat and skilled sword-dancer, stood by Revansh not as a passive consort, but a queen who shared command. The Shinvu soldiers brought their war customs, their runic armor, and their silent loyalty to Revansh's court.

Meanwhile, King Vivaraj secured his position by marrying Queen Lirasha of Elenyor, a mysterious forest-bound kingdom that worshipped rivers, trees, and moons. Elenyor's tribes brought archers that could strike a bird mid-flight, and druids who spoke with the earth itself.

Lirasha, known as the "Emerald Queen," ruled her people as both a monarch and spiritual guide. Her wisdom matched Vivaraj's clever tongue, and together, they blended politics with poetry, making Vaithara a cultural and spiritual hub.

Even Adityan, the self-declared High King of Unified Svarlokh, knew he could not stand without stronger allies. He turned south, into the harsh sands and red mountains of Karamdesh, and married Princess Vaeyra of Solkar, daughter of the Sand Emperor.

Princess Vaeyra was as formidable as the land she came from—tactful, disciplined, and well-versed in the art of siege warfare. Her people brought desert cavalry, siege elephants, and artisans who carved war machines from sandstone.

Together, they bore two children: a sharp-minded son named Prince Kaaryan, and an elder daughter, Princess Shaanira, known for her silver tongue and affinity for diplomacy. While Adityan ruled with might, it was Shaanira who softened alliances and Kaaryan who trained relentlessly in the art of war.

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The Cracks in Peace

Though battle had not erupted again after the first march, peace had become a stretched thread—tense, thin, and fraying at the edges.

Borders were no longer mere lines—they were walls, manned by archers and warded by mercenaries. Trade routes, once flowing like blood through the body of Svarlokh, were now fractured veins.

Caravans were robbed mid-journey. Goods burned. Merchants killed.

And each kingdom blamed the other.

"Vivaraj uses bandits to disrupt our grain routes," accused Adityan before his court. "They attack near water hubs, knowing it weakens our supply."

In Vaithara, the accusation was mirrored.

"Adityan's war dogs dress as bandits, stealing silks and spices to fuel his greedy empire," Vivaraj spat during a counsel meeting. "The roads are stained with his ambition."

Revansh remained less vocal, but his spies moved deeper into both kingdoms. He fortified watchtowers along the mountain passes, intercepting weapons caravans and capturing strange mercenaries who claimed to fight "for coin, not crown."

The captured ones whispered of hidden gold caches, anonymous orders, and secret strongholds—none could name their masters.

But all roads pointed to royalty.

The war was no longer fought with swords, but shadows.

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Family in Fracture

It had been years since the three brothers had spoken face-to-face.

Revansh sent a messenger to Adityan once—a peace envoy asking for a summit of reconciliation.

The messenger returned with one arm missing and a scroll nailed to his chest:

> "You can summon peace when you remember who was born first."

In turn, Vivaraj's missives to Revansh seeking an alliance against Adityan were never answered. Revansh believed in balance—he would not trade one tyrant's shadow for another's alliance.

Even within the royal bloodline, scars ran deep.

Queen Vaeyra's words often shaped Adityan's decisions now.

"You are not just a king," she whispered each night, "You are the only rightful ruler. The others are distractions—dust in your legacy."

Queen Aenya of Nordrak counseled Revansh differently.

"Your strength lies not in conquest, but in restraint. Let the world come to you when Adityan burns himself."

And Queen Lirasha, ever the seer, told Vivaraj one moonless night, "The river does not pick a side. But it remembers every blood it washes away."