Ashes to Empires

The buried city beneath Blackstone Academy thrummed with a feverish pulse, its black-gold runes flaring like sparks in a forge. The ninth Pillar's awakening had sent a violent tremor through the ley-lines, a signal that cracked the Final Veil's weakening threads.

Mark Wilde stood in a newly discovered chamber beneath the academy's southern spire, a vaulted space carved with spiraling murals that depicted a crowned figure shattered into fragments.

The air was thick with mana, heavy with the weight of a history clawing its way to the surface. His allies—Elira, Vrix, Silas, and Lysa—stood nearby, their faces lit by the faint glow of the crystal orb Lysa carried, its map now pointing to the tenth Pillar's location: a hidden shrine beneath the Starless Crag, a jagged outcrop beyond the academy's walls.

Lysa held the orb, her journal tucked under her arm, its pages trembling as if sensing the city's unrest. "The Shattered Sovereign," she said, her voice steady but laced with unease.

"The journal calls it a fragment of the First Sovereign's will, broken when the Veil was forged. It's not a guardian—it's a piece of him, twisted by the Accord's magic. If it's awake, it's because we're too close to the Veil's collapse."

Mark's gaze locked on the orb, its map showing the Starless Crag's shrine, a place sealed by runes older than the academy itself. The Forbidden Tier magic coiled beneath his skin, sharp and unrelenting, urging him forward. "Then we face it," he said. "The tenth Pillar's in that shrine. If we awaken it, the Veil cracks further. We're not stopping now."

Elira leaned on her staff, her wards casting a soft glow across the chamber's murals. "The Starless Crag's outside the academy's wards, Mark. It's exposed, dangerous. The Accord will be watching. And the Shattered Sovereign? If it's part of the First Sovereign, it's not just a threat—it's personal."

Silas, inspecting a mural with a skeptical smirk, tapped his cane against the stone. "Personal? That's a new one. We've fought constructs, collectives, and a living betrayal. Now we're facing a piece of your soul's ancestor? My Runebreakers are good, but this is pushing it, Wilde."

Vrix's stone-like skin glinted as she leaned against a wall, her fingers tracing a glyph in the air. "The Archives mention the Starless Crag as a place of exile, where the Accord banished what they couldn't control. The tenth Pillar's there, but so's the Sovereign's shard. It's not just bound—it's angry. We'll need more than glyphs and illusions to face it."

Mark's mind churned, weaving together fragments of his past life as Maximilian Wilde—strategies that outmaneuvered empires, risks that reshaped the world—and the instincts of this new body, now a conduit for the Crownless legacy.

The Shattered Sovereign wasn't just a threat; it was a mirror, a piece of the First Sovereign's will that might reflect his own. "Lysa," he said, turning to the girl. "Does the journal say how to face the Shattered Sovereign?"

Lysa opened her journal, her fingers tracing a sketch of a fractured crown, its pieces surrounded by runes that pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat. "It's not clear," she admitted.

"But there's a passage: 'The Shattered Sovereign is the First's rage, broken but unyielding. The Crownless must face it with resolve, for its strength is in its pain.'"

Elira's wards flickered. "Resolve? That's not a plan, Mark. The Crag's a death trap—unstable mana, ancient wards, and now a fragment of a dead Sovereign. We need more than courage."

Mark's lips curved into a cold smile. "We don't need courage. We need defiance. The Accord's running scared—the Veil's crumbling, and they're summoning ghosts to stop us. Vrix, can your glyphs stabilize the Crag's mana long enough for us to reach the shrine?

Silas, your Runebreakers can stage a diversion at the academy's western border—keep the enforcers busy. Elira, Lysa, you're with me. We'll face the Sovereign and awaken the tenth Pillar."

Vrix nodded, her fingers sketching a glyph that shimmered with stabilizing energy. "I can balance the Crag's mana, but it's volatile. You'll have a short window—twenty minutes, tops."

Silas twirled his cane, his grin sharp. "Twenty minutes to fight a ghost king? I've had worse odds. My team'll turn the western border into a circus."

"That's enough," Mark said. His eyes glowed faintly, the Forbidden Tier magic stirring. "Let's face the past."

The Starless Crag loomed beyond the academy's walls, a jagged scar of black stone under a sky torn by violet-black storms. Mana lightning cracked, illuminating the Crag's jagged edges in eerie flashes. Vrix's glyphs had stabilized the mana currents, creating a narrow path through the unstable terrain.

Silas's Runebreakers had turned the western border into chaos, their illusions conjuring spectral armies and collapsing spires, drawing the Accord's enforcers away from the Crag.

Mark, Elira, and Lysa moved across the rocky terrain, clad in mana-woven cloaks to shield them from the Crag's volatile energy. The air was heavy, the ground thrumming with a rhythm that felt like anger. "This place hates us," Elira muttered, her staff pulsing with protective runes. "The mana's alive, and it's not happy."

Mark's hand hovered near the spiral glyph on his wrist, the Forbidden Tier magic thrumming in sync with the Crag's pulse. "It's not the Crag," he said. "It's the Sovereign. It's waiting."

Lysa clutched her journal, its runes glowing faintly blue as she whispered a counterspell. The path opened, revealing a sunken shrine carved into the Crag's heart, its entrance a stone arch etched with a spiral rune that pulsed with crimson light. Mark placed his hand on the rune, and the arch shuddered.

The stone sang, a low, anguished note that vibrated through their bones. The arch parted, revealing a chamber lit by a faint, silvery glow. At its center stood the tenth Pillar, a crystal spire pulsing with a rhythm that felt like grief.

But it wasn't alone.

A figure loomed before the Pillar, its form a fractured silhouette of a crowned man, its body splintered into shards of shadow and light. Its eyes burned with a rage that felt ancient, personal. The Shattered Sovereign.

"You are the Crownless," it said, its voice a jagged chorus of pain and fury, echoing inside their minds. "But you are not him. You carry his fire, but not his heart."

Mark stepped forward, the Forbidden Tier magic flaring in his chest. "I don't need to be him," he said. "I'm here to finish what he started. The Veil falls, and your pain ends."

The Sovereign's form flickered, its shards shifting like broken glass. "Pain is eternal. The Veil binds it. You would unleash it, and the world will burn."

Elira's wards surged, forming a barrier around them. "Mark, this thing's not just a fragment—it's alive with his rage. If we fight it, we're fighting the First Sovereign's ghost."

Lysa whispered runes from her journal, her voice steady despite the pressure. "Resolve… the journal said the Crownless must face it with resolve."

Mark nodded, stepping past Elira's wards. The Sovereign moved, its shards coalescing into a blade of shadow and light. Mark didn't meet it with force—he met it with will. The Forbidden Tier magic wove entropy around his hands, unraveling the blade's strikes. The chamber shook, runes flaring as the Pillar responded to his presence.

Visions flooded his mind—the First Sovereign, betrayed by the First Circle, his will shattered to forge the Veil. His rage wasn't just anger; it was loss, a city he'd built torn apart by fear. Mark saw the truth: the Shattered Sovereign wasn't a guardian—it was a wound, a piece of the First Sovereign's heart left to fester.

"I understand," Mark said, his voice steady. "You fought for freedom, and they broke you. But I'm not them. I'm here to set you free."

The Sovereign faltered, its shards trembling. Mark lunged for the Pillar, his hand touching its surface. The chamber erupted in light, the Pillar's song rising to a piercing wail. The Sovereign screamed, its shards dissolving into motes of light that merged with the Pillar's glow.

The chamber stabilized, the tenth Pillar's resonance joining the others in a harmony that shook the ley-lines. The Veil cracked further, its fractures spreading like veins across the shrine's walls.

Elira exhaled, her staff dimming. "You're going to kill us all one day, Wilde."

Lysa clutched her journal, her eyes wide. "The Veil… it's barely holding. Two more Pillars, and it's gone."

Mark turned to the orb's map, now glowing brighter, its veins stretching further. "Ten down. Two to go."

Above, in the Maw's sanctum, the shattered mirror's fragments lay still, reflecting only darkness. Her voice was a hiss, her rage barely contained. "The Shattered Sovereign is gone."

A warlock in crimson robes stepped forward. "The Veil is breaking. If he awakens another Pillar, the truth will flood the world."

The Maw's mask glinted, her fingers tracing a rune of exile. "Then we summon the Eternal Warden. The Crownless will fall, or the Veins will destroy us all."