Story Title :- idle guy
Chapter 8: The Path of the Crown
The wind had stopped.
Kael stared across the desolate horizon, watching the sun rise over what remained of Elarin. The city was in ruins, but something about the stillness of the moment made it feel like more than just a destroyed place—it felt like the end of an era.
Lira sat next to him, her sword resting on her knees. The silence between them was heavy, but it wasn’t the kind of silence born of tension. It was the kind that came after every battle had been fought, after every scream had been heard, and every enemy crushed beneath their feet.
And yet, Kael couldn’t shake the feeling that the true fight hadn’t even begun.
“We stopped the Reaper,” Lira said, breaking the silence. “For now.”
“For now,” Kael echoed, his voice distant. He didn’t feel like celebrating. He felt like he was standing at the edge of something far darker.
The Nullsong Blade was still at his side, humming quietly, as if it were waiting for something.
“I saw something,” Kael muttered. “In that vision. After I stabbed the Reaper. I saw myself. A version of me, wearing a crown. A crown of circuits and light. And I—” He swallowed hard. “I was smiling. Over piles of corpses.”
Lira frowned, standing up. “Kael, you’re not—”
“I was,” he interrupted, his voice hard. “I will be. In a future that’s already written.” He looked down at his hands, the gauntlet glowing faintly in the morning light. “The Blade... it’s not just a weapon. It’s a tool for rewriting fate.”
“You can’t let it control you,” Lira warned, her voice low. “You have to remember who you are. What you want to be.”
Kael didn’t respond immediately. He couldn’t. Because in the deepest part of his soul, he wasn’t sure who he was anymore.
The Veyrin Mantle
Kael had spent his life running from the mantle that had been thrust upon him—the legacy of the Veyrin bloodline, a lineage wrapped in both magic and technology, built to govern the worlds beyond the Rift. But he had always rejected it, always resisted becoming the weapon they wanted him to be.
But now, after everything—after all the battles, the betrayals, the deaths—he could feel it pulling at him. The mantle. The crown.
He didn’t want it. But it was starting to feel like it didn’t matter.
“I need to find out who’s behind all of this,” Kael said suddenly, his voice sharp. “I need to know who created the Echo Blade, who did this to my sister. Who wanted me to become... this.”
Lira nodded, stepping forward. “You won’t do it alone. We’ll find them.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” Kael said, though he couldn’t hide the faint trace of gratitude in his voice. “This isn’t just about survival anymore. It’s about becoming.”
“I know,” Lira said, her eyes hard. “But we’re in this together. If you’re going to burn the world down, I’ll be right beside you. We’ll burn it together.”
Kael stared at her for a long moment, and for the first time in what felt like forever, a small sliver of hope flickered within him.
The Forgotten Ones
Their journey led them east, toward the land of the Forgotten Ones—a realm outside of time, where ancient beings who had transcended mortality resided. The Forgotten Ones were a race of beings who had long since left the physical world behind, existing as pure consciousnesses, immortal and beyond the reach of normal time. They had once been allies of the Veyrin bloodline, but they had vanished after the collapse of the First Epoch.
“Why the Forgotten Ones?” Lira asked as they walked through the twisted paths leading to their realm.
“They know the truth,” Kael replied. “They know who started the Rift War. Who planted the seed of destruction in the Veyrin line. And they know what I will become.”
“And what’s that?”
Kael didn’t answer immediately. He could feel the weight of the crown growing heavier on his head.
“The last king,” he whispered. “The one who would reshape the universe.”
Beyond the Void
As they reached the threshold of the Forgotten Ones' realm, the air shifted. It became heavy, thick with the presence of something ancient and unfathomable. The path before them opened into a vast expanse—an ocean of stars, swirling and shifting in a way that defied logic.
At the center of this vastness stood a figure, robed in shifting light, its form a reflection of the void itself. It was not a being of flesh and bone, but of pure energy—an echo of existence itself.
The Forgotten One spoke without moving its lips, its voice resonating in the very core of Kael’s being.
“You have come,” it said. “I wondered when you would finally arrive.”
Kael took a step forward, feeling the weight of the Nullsong Blade at his side. “I need answers. About the Rift. About my bloodline. About me.”
The Forgotten One studied him for a long moment, its gaze piercing through the fabric of time itself.
“You have always known, Kael Veyrin. You’ve known the truth of your bloodline since the moment you were born. The Veyrin line was never meant to be rulers. It was meant to be destroyers. And you... you are the culmination of that purpose.”
Kael’s heart raced. “What are you saying?”
“The Crown of Veyrin is not a symbol of power, but of annihilation. It was forged to tear down the boundaries between worlds, to merge them into one.” The Forgotten One’s voice grew more intense. “And you, Kael, are the one who will wear that crown. Whether you want to or not.”
End of Chapter 8
