"A crown made from stolen dreams will one day drown in them."
—Unknown Soulweaver, Archive Fragment 071
The buzz of the Soulforge was still with us as we approached the gates of Astelbar Keep.
It had taken us three long days to walk back—trudging past frozen lakes, through whispering woods, and over cracked leylines that looked like infected veins threading through the western kingdom.
But Mio was never hesitant.
And I was right there with her.
**The Hall of Echoes**
King Solomon Greywoods' great hall was carved from dark stone and filled with stories. The walls were lined with ancient murals of Soulweavers—heroes caught in battle, kings bound by light and code.
It all felt like a lie.
Our footsteps sank into the thick red carpet as we walked through the silence.
At the far end of the hall, sitting on a jagged black throne covered in glowing symbols, was Solomon Greywoods, King of the Western Kingdom.
And Mio's father.
"So," he said in a deep voice, "the lost princess returns."
Mio stepped up alone. "I'm not lost. I'm changed."
"And him?" He shot a glance my way. "The Codeheart from the east. A mistake reborn as a boy."
I held my ground. "Your kingdom nearly fell to the Warden."
His eyes narrowed.
"You woke the Forge," he replied.
"You left it chained and dreaming," Mio shot back. "Feeding your rule with stolen memories."
**A Daughter's War**
King Solomon rose from his throne.
He was dressed in armor, not robes—a warrior, not a peaceful ruler. His crown was laced with Soulweaver tech. His right arm glittered with rune-embedded glass.
"Do you know what it took to keep this kingdom alive?" he asked, stepping down. "When the Architect fell, your mother died. The leylines shattered. We had no gods, no guardians, no way to survive."
His tone turned sharp.
"So yes, I used the Soulforge. The dreamers. The Sleeper matrix. Survival doesn't care about moral high ground."
"You turned our ancestors into fuel," Mio replied. "You called it duty. I call it desecration."
Her hand was near her dagger.
Solomon's stare was intense—something flickered in his eyes. Not anger. Not sorrow.
Fear.
"Your bloodline was meant to take my throne," he said. "Not destroy it."
**Revelations of the Court**
The nobles and Soulforge advisors in the hall began to whisper as tensions rose. No one interrupted until one voice broke the silence.
"My king," said Eralin, High Lord of Dreamscript and Solomon's loyal mystic. "The foreigner has twisted her mind. She's not the child you raised."
"She was never just a child," I interjected. "You raised a weapon. Now she's become the shield."
Mio's fingers tightened and then relaxed.
"Father," she said, "I don't want your throne. I just want the truth. I want the suffering to end. Burn the Forge. Free the dreamers. Let the kingdom stand on real strength again."
Solomon now looked tired.
Old.
Worn out from ruling shadows.
"I can't," he said quietly.
**The Pact**
Mio froze. "What do you mean?"
"I can't destroy the Forge," Solomon replied. "It doesn't belong to me anymore."
He waved a hand.
From the wall, a hidden sigil lit up.
A figure emerged, a woman in black robes filled with mirror shards, her eyes glowing silver.
An emissary of the Architect.
"Your father made a deal," she said calmly. "When your mother died, he traded the dreams of the west for stability. For a price, the Architect would hold the leylines together."
Mio stepped back. "No. He's dead."
"He was," the woman said, "but memory doesn't just vanish."
**Crisis Point**
I reached for my system code, but the entire room pulsed with fields blocking rewrites. They'd been prepared for us.
"If you fight here," Solomon warned, his voice shaky, "you'll trigger a memory collapse. Dreams will spill out. Reality will shatter."
I glared at him. "Then free them. Undo the deal."
"I can't."
"Then you're no king."
Mio drew her blade.
It glowed with the purple echo of the Soulweaver line.
"This is my legacy," she said. "Not your chains. Not your secrets."
The courtiers whispered louder.
Solomon slowly went back to his throne.
His hand shook on the armrest.
"Then do what you must, Mio," he murmured. "But know—if you choose this path, you'll make enemies of gods."
She turned her back to him.
And walked away.
**The Cost of Walking Away**
We didn't speak again until we were outside the keep.
The night was cold, the wind howled through the towers.
But Mio's eyes were dry.
She looked at me, her voice soft.
"Do you think he hated me for leaving?"
"No," I replied. "He hated that you went further than he ever could."
She nodded.
"I don't want a throne. I want to destroy it."
And in that moment, I realized she wasn't just a princess anymore.
She was the storm ready to change the kingdom.
To be continued...