Chapter 6: The Prophecy
Ten years of peace passed.
King Alaric and Queen Elara ruled wisely. The Golden Crown had never shone brighter. The kingdom of Aurendor flourished.
And then… the prophecy was discovered.
Deep inside the royal archives, an ancient scroll spoke of the crown:
"When the Golden Crown dims,
The Shadow Heir shall rise.
Born of royal blood,
Yet bound to darkness."
On the very night the prophecy was read, the crown flickered.
For the first time in history… its light weakened.
Chapter 7: The Prince with Golden Eyes
Prince Caelan, the only son of Alaric and Elara, was gifted — strong, intelligent, and kind.
But there was something unusual about him.
When anger filled his heart, his golden eyes turned dark as midnight.
Strange winds followed him. Torches flickered when he passed. Once, during training, shadows moved at his command.
The royal mage trembled.
"There is ancient magic in his blood… older than the crown itself."
Queen Elara refused to fear her son.
"He is not darkness," she said firmly.
"He is our child."
Chapter 8: The Return of the Black Flame
Far beyond Aurendor, in the ruins of a forgotten land, something awakened.
Malvek had fallen… but his master had not.
From the ashes rose Morvath — the Black Flame Sorcerer. A being who once tried to steal the Golden Crown centuries ago.
"The heir carries my mark," Morvath whispered.
"And through him… I shall rule."
Dark creatures began appearing at the borders. Villages reported shadows walking at night. The sky itself seemed heavier.
War was not coming.
It was already here.
Chapter 9: A Father's Fear
King Alaric began to distance himself from Caelan, afraid of what the prophecy might mean.
The prince felt it.
The doubt.
The fear.
One night, Caelan stood before the Golden Crown when no one else was there. He reached toward it.
The crown glowed.
But this time — half gold.
Half black.
A voice echoed in his mind.
"You are more than a prince."
He stepped back, terrified.
Chapter 10: The Breaking Point
Morvath attacked the capital with a storm of black fire. The skies split. The palace trembled.
Alaric and Elara fought again — older now, but still fearless.
But Morvath did not attack them.
He reached for Caelan.
"Come to me, Shadow Heir."
In that moment, Caelan had a choice.
Darkness promised power.
Light demanded sacrifice.
The Golden Crown fell from Alaric's head during battle.
It rolled across the marble floor.
And stopped at Caelan's feet.
The crown pulsed.
Waiting.