“Malus! Malus! Malus! You killed the Queen!” Prophexian faithfuls had been chanting outside of the Kaolin Palace, a towering fortress made of stone and bones with walls that hum in the city of Azulae. King Stefan, dressed in a long white silk robe, heard the shouts but didn’t move an inch from his throne.

Ever since news broke of Queen Rosar’s death, Prophexian faithfuls, loyalists to the late queen, had been protesting outside the palace that housed the Ascended Incarnate of Death and his late wife. They traveled a long way from the once great city called Prophexia—the first Eastern Meadow city to be annexed into Stefan’s Kingdom of Death.

***

Not too long ago, the Eastern Meadows was a region that was once home to great cities of marvel and wonder. Prophexia. Sonusa. Gardenia. Bellum. Cities that once housed the Gods and their Incarnates.

Prophexia was the Land of Eyes, a city of blues and grays with eight imposing Eye Towers that dared to kiss the skies. A city where the Circle of Vue, a sisterhood of women blessed with the gift of sight, were a powerful force that even the Gods would bow to.

Sonusa was the Singing City, a city made of glass and marble. A city of singing trees and conniving doors. A city that came with a cautionary tale. What you see is almost never real. Beware the woman with the dagger of glass.

Gardenia was the beating heart; a fragile drum, yet powerful and daring. A cliff city of wooden homes overpowered with scents of citrus. A city of floating gardens—lush greenery beds that held thousands of roses, tulips, and orchids—that drifted serenely in the air, with thorny vines hanging freely.

Bellum, the Red City, was once the greatest city in Arla. Before all the blood dried out. A city where men and women once entered to learn the language of war. To become the strongest. To defy death. Or at least attempt to.

***

Over 40 years ago, these cities were captured and absorbed into the Kingdom of Death. The once great war city, Bellum, was reduced to almost nothing. Its near total destruction forced its people to move to Dorma, one of eight territories that make up the Kingdom of Death.

In Sonusa, Akarian soldiers loyal to Stefan, are stationed at the borders of the land that sings and speaks only truths. A land where the trees still speak an ancient language and sway without the touch of a wind, always ready to decipher the lies that station themselves under the tongue of the people who dare to enter.

In Gardenia, a once fertile magic called Makaran Magic is drying out due to the events of the great war. A magic where only those chosen can draw from the floating gardens in the floral city.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

And for Prophexia, only a cloud of shame and guilt presides over the city that was mostly untouched by the war.

Bellum, Sonusa, Gardenia, and Prophexia no longer exist. There is only Azulae. The City of Death.

***

“Sir, Prophexians will not leave Azulae until you address them.” Lord Flip said hastily.

Lord Flip had entered the king’s throne room only minutes ago, out of breath and sweating. He searched everywhere in the Kaolin Palace before finding Stefan in the throne room, a room where no light entered and was as cold as ice.

As Lord Flip talked, pleading with the king to address the protesters, the king only kept staring at a painting of him and Rosar that hung on the back wall. It was the day of their wedding. Rosar was wearing a white, satin floor length dress with blue embroidery that formed intricate patterns of flowers around her shoulders. Her eyes were painted full of youth and promise, a stark contrast to what she looked like at her death. She stood tall and commanding, proud and daring. A Rosar that was long gone.

Stefan missed that Rosar.

“Sir! Do you hear me?” Lord Flip shouted suddenly, snapping his fingers in front of the king’s face. If it was anyone else, Stefan would have had his hand for shouting at him.

Stefan shrugged him off. “What do you expect me to say? They won’t believe a word I say. They won’t believe I didn’t kill the queen.”

Lord Flip let out a huge sigh.

“I’m only a liar in their eyes.” Stefan added.

“You must say something, my king.”

Stefan rolled his eyes. “I must not do anything.”

Lord Flip clenched his fists. For over three decades, the elder lord has been loyal to his king. But as he grew older, as the gray hair came, he grew to loathe Stefan’s stubbornness and how he could get in his own way.

“Do you know where Mel is?” Stefan asked suddenly.

Lord Flip shook his head.

Stefan leaned back in his seat. “That boy is never where he should be.”

“You must say something, my king.” Lord Flip pleaded again. “It’s been days.”

“If you have nothing else to say my friend, you may leave.”

Lord Flip threw up his hands then turned on his heels.

Halfway there, he suddenly stopped.

Stefan sat up in his seat. “Is there something else?”

Lord Flip took a deep breath before turning around.

“I know you loved her once.” He began slowly. “Don’t you deny it. And I believed she loved you too at one point….in her own twisted way. But your wife is gone. Rosar is dead and her body continues to rot here.”

Stefan’s face quickly hardened.

“And their Princess is missing. The heir is missing. Do you not understand?” Lord Flip continued, voice still steady. “You must address Prophexia. You cannot afford dissent right now. The Prophexians are the last links to peace in the Eastern Meadows. If you lose Prophexia, the Reclaimants will take advantage. And without prophecy, you will never find the missing piece. Do you not care? Or do you prefer being on your knees, bowing to the Desert? I know a pretty lady who once loved being on her knees for a Desert Prince.”

Stefan suddenly rose from his seat. “Enough!”

Lord Flip slightly flinched. Stefan rarely shouted, but when he did, the room shook.

“I’ll address the Prophexians.” Stefan conceded, before stepping down his throne. “But first, you must do something for me.”

Lord Flip cocked an eyebrow.

“Fetch Jolial.” Stefan smirked. “I’m not going out there without her.”