CURSE OF THE THRONE : RISE OF THE LOST PRINCE

The flame of the candle danced against the chilled stone walls as Kai read the letter. The ink was smeared, the writing hurried—written in urgency. Lumina's voice whispered in his mind, dispassionate and professional.

"Traces of sweat and oil on the parchment. Impressions of iron-ink with an unknown mineral… Not written in the palace. Eastern wings."

 Kai narrowed his eyes. The message, though discreet, was unmistakable: "Your throne is not vacant, but it awaits its master."

A riddle? A warning? A threat? He couldn't decipher it.

"Handwriting analysis," he whispered.

"Comparing with royal archives… Match found. Councilman Renard. Loyal to your father, vanished weeks ago."

Kai's stomach twisted. If Renard had sent this, something was deeply wrong. A dangerous game was being played. He clenched his fists.

Then, the air shifted.

A whisper of movement.

Kai barely reacted before the assassin struck.

A shadow moved with unnatural speed, a blade gleaming in the dim light. As the steel lunged for Kai's throat—

Everything slowed.

His limbs froze. His breath caught. Not fear, but something unnatural.

Lumina reacted faster.

"Emergency protocol engaged."

A violent force erupted from Kai's core. The air crackled with electricity. A shockwave exploded outward.

BOOM!

A blinding fireball of white-hot flame engulfed the chamber, hurling the assassin backward like a rag doll against the wall. Stone shrapnel imploded. The explosion blew out a wide, gaping hole, raining charred debris into the night.

Beyond, the courtyard of the castle was filled with the white-hot sphere's blinding radiance for miles. The sphere illuminated the landscape in a fierce explosion of brilliance. The shockwave rolled through the fortress, disturbing its foundations.

Beyond the crumbling walls, a figure stepped from the darkness, observing.

A figure.

Their wise eyes opened wide. Their hands gripped a staff harder.

The terror they feared was here.

Kai stepped backward, gasping, his heart racing. His hands shook as he took in the destruction.

"What… what the hell just happened?"

"I never cast a magic". I wasn't supposed to have it.

And yet, he was standing in the destruction he'd created.

Through the burnt ruin, the killer groaned, dragging themselves up, stumbling. Their hood was smudged, their mask broken. But they did not run.

 Kai moved closer, fire flickering in his cold eyes.

"Convey to your master," he rasped, voice low and sinister, "I'm coming for them."

The killer faltered, then dissolved into darkness.

High up above, looking out from the blasted tower, the figure breathed sharply.

This was not simple power.

This was something different.

 And for the first time in decades, the figure shook with fear.

 Kai wiped the sweat from his forehead, his mind in disarray. His throne was not empty.