Chapter 1: New Age
Nobody knew the king of Aurengarde was dead.
And in truth, Aurengarde was a complete mess.
Ever since that fateful day, the kingdom had splintered. The Shardtouched were exiled to the grim undercity, and the royal families of the heartlands scattered in confusion, each trying to cling to what little power they had left. For the past eight years, the kingdom had existed without a ruler. This fragile balance, this quiet storm, could not continue. It had to change.
Today, the royal council of Aurengarde had arranged a meeting, a meeting that would either heal the wounds of the past or rip open new ones. Shielah Nark wasn’t sure what to expect—but she was certain that whatever happened, she would make it count.
Shielah adjusted her silver hair, which today was unusually straight, betraying the unruly curls she often struggled with. She’d long learned to control everything in her life—her wealth, her castle, her influence—but one thing remained beyond her grasp: her hair. The mirror reflected her image as she pulled a few errant strands into place. She had the grace of a queen, the poise of someone born to lead. But for some reason, it never felt enough.
Her reflection revealed fair, porcelain skin, long pointed ears that betrayed her heritage as an elf, and a few freckles scattered across her cheeks—a reminder that even the most perfect could be touched by time. She was 26, which in her mind, was far too old to feel like she had yet to find her place. But today, she thought, could be the day she would.
Her eyes flickered with pride as she examined herself. Nobody in the room would be able to match her presence. She could outshine any woman in the kingdom, and she often did. She was blessed with a body that turned heads, a mind sharp as a blade, and a mastery of fabrics that could rival the finest tailors of Aurelith. Strong, smart, beautiful—she was the embodiment of perfection.
So why, then, did she feel so restless?
The answer came to her as she gazed deeply into the mirror: She wanted more. Everything she had now was comfortable, and comfort was the enemy. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind: “If you are comfortable in life, then something is wrong.” For years, Shielah had wondered what that meant. But now, standing on the precipice of this crucial meeting, it was clear. She didn’t just want to be the kingdom’s financial advisor. No, she wanted to shape the kingdom. She wanted to lead.
With a sigh, she turned away from the mirror and made her way down the stone steps of her castle. Each step was deliberate, her long white and rose-gold robe flowing elegantly behind her. Intricate celestial patterns—like the stars themselves—woven into the fabric shimmered in the light. A gift from her late father, she thought, though his absence never left much of a void in her heart. Still, the necklace with its strange blue crystal that glowed when touched reminded her of him.
Her boots clicked against the stone as she stepped outside, the morning air cool and soft against her skin. The breeze played with her hair, and for once, she didn’t mind. Today was important. She couldn’t afford to look like a recluse.
Sitting on the steps of her castle, she surveyed the sprawling heartlands before her, the fields stretching endlessly, the Celestine Peaks barely visible on the horizon. She loved this view—the peace, the beauty, the reminder of where she came from. She had traveled the length and breadth of Aurelith, but the heartlands were still the most magnificent part of the kingdom. Not just in its beauty, but in its diversity.
She didn’t hear the servants calling her name, so lost in her thoughts she was. The gentle chime of the bells signaling her departure finally brought her back to the present. She adjusted her robe, a sense of urgency now rising in her chest, and walked swiftly toward the carriage waiting for her.
The noble’s carry, with its towering crystalline horse, was ready for her. It was a majestic sight—this horse could fly, soaring across the skies at incredible speeds. But today, the flight was slow and calm, the gentle air currents keeping Shielah’s hair in place. She smiled faintly, pleased by the tranquility that surrounded her as the carriage ascended into the sky.
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a book—her moment of calm before the storm. The wind ruffled her lashes, the quiet hum of the flying beast was a balm to her nerves. She could almost feel the tension of the day melt away, until—
Burp.
A sound that made her stomach churn. She knew exactly who it was. The one man in all of Aurelith capable of such a revolting noise.
“Sig,” she muttered under her breath, not turning to face him. She already knew the man—rotund, brash, and unrefined—was enjoying a meal, likely more of his grotesque indulgence in the form of a gem-filled disc. A popular, albeit disgusting, treat. She could hear the crunch, the slurping.
“Ah, Shielah! There you are!” Sig’s booming voice filled the space. She felt the nausea building. “I was hoping I’d get some company on my way to the castle.”
She refused to acknowledge him, preferring instead to focus on her book.
“Don’t act like that, now. Come on,” he said, making another loud, revolting noise. “Can’t we just put aside our disputes for a minute? You know what today is, right?”
She turned to him slowly, her eyes narrowing. “I do. And I’m certain that a man like you should never be allowed in such an important meeting. You might fall asleep halfway through, like the last four times.”
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Sig paused mid-bite, looking at her with an exaggerated expression of innocence. “Meeting?” He looked perplexed. “What meeting?”
Shielah felt the air go still as she pinched the bridge of her nose, already regretting this moment. “Oh shards, are you serious?” she muttered, almost laughing out of sheer disbelief.
Sig was already wiping his mouth with a napkin, the blue substance staining his face. “Wait, wait. What meeting?” he repeated, genuinely clueless.
Shielah inhaled sharply, her patience slipping away. “We are discussing the future of the kingdom today. The king is dead, and we cannot hide that any longer. The council is meeting to decide what we do next, how we handle this kingdom that is falling apart.”
Sig blinked, then his face split into a wide grin. “Wait, the king is dead?!” he asked, loud enough that even the crystalline horse seemed to flinch. Shielah swore she felt her brain turn to ash.
“Sig—” She began, clenching her fists. He raised both hands in defense, his laughter echoing through the air. “Relax, relax! Just a joke, Shielah. Gods, you should’ve seen your face!”
She couldn’t even dignify him with a response. Instead, she turned back to her book, trying to shut out the sound of his laughter.
The carry eventually reached the station near the castle, other nobles stepping off. Shielah folded her book into her bag and left the carry, sig following behind her as she made haste to the castle. Aurengarde was a marvel. Houses that spiraled up into configurative ways. The very stone itself hummed with glowing light, refleting from the sun itself. Noble men wore high-collared jackets with embroidered celestial motifs. The common men didn’t look too bad either, wearing simple garbs that would be a luxury in the dirty undercity.
And of course, the true main attraction. That being the golden spire of sovereignty. The royal palace was the first structure known to be built in Aurelith, when the ancient Luminar created the lands. Shielah thought this was false and often detested the existence of such gods ever existing. Gods were a silly idea to her- Ethereal beings who created the world? Not possible in a scientific standpoint. Nobody could prove that they existed, therefore they didn’t.
Entering the castle, she made her way past the ball and feast that the nobles treated themselves too. Oftentimes, she had to pull sig away from the delights that coated the entire first floor with a sweet aroma. Reaching the golden steps above the first floor, she moved past the guards and into the Celestial hall, where the council waited, seated. What she saw was a mockery. Instead of formality, the council members were spread throughout the room, talking with one another
and lounging about. Looking at the clock on the wall, she saw that the meeting was five minutes from now. So then why did they act so casual? The future of Aurengarde- no, the future of the heartlands was all up to this.
“Shilo!” A man said, armed crossed near the back of the Celestial hall. A large silver sword over his back. She walked up to him, boots slapping the beutifual floor of the hall.
“Baldre.” She said, sharing a glance and a nod. The tanned skin man never showed up to council meetings, which was understandable. He was the kingdom war general, oftentimes moving from city to town. He was tall, muscular, and had curly hair that went down over his face.
“Good to see you again. Also- you said my name wrong.” Baldre winced, scratching the back of his head. “My bad, been awhile. You look better than ever, by the by.” She blushed. She did admit the man looked great- even if he wore commoner clothing to the most important room in Aurelith.
Before she could say more, the heavy doors of the hall groaned shut, and Thury Starborne, son of the fallen king, entered. His black cloak trailed behind him, embroidered with golden threads symbolizing the royal lineage. The room fell silent as he took his place at the head of the circular table.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the council,” Thury began, his voice steady but somber, “thank you for gathering here. We face a decision that will shape the future of Aurengarde and all of Aurelith. The truth of my father’s death can no longer remain hidden.”
A ripple of murmurs spread through the council. And soon everyone sat at the roud table in the hall, watching Thury with gleaming eyes.
Thury raised a hand, silencing the murmurs. “We must decide how to move forward. The kingdom’s factions grow restless. The Shardtouched revolt in the undercity, the Heartlands fracture under weak leadership, and the noble families vie for power. Unity must be restored. This council was convened to determine how.”
“Unity?” scoffed Sig, the rotund housing minister, from his seat. He patted crumbs from his jacket. “More like chaos. The nobles only care about their estates, and the common folk couldn’t care less who sits on the throne.”
“That’s because of weak governance,” Shielah interjected sharply, her silver hair catching the hall’s light. “The absence of a leader has left this kingdom rudderless. We need a ruler who can unite us.”
“And who would that be?” asked Elaris Windshaper, a pale elf with piercing green eyes and a biting tone. She represented the kingdom’s magical scholars. “Another Starborne? Another name tied to the failings of the past?”
Thury’s jaw tightened. “Careful, Elaris.”
“She’s not wrong,” Baldre rumbled, stepping forward. “The people need someone they can trust. Someone who fights for them, not for their own gain. Putting another noble on the throne will only deepen the divide.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Shielah challenged. “We let the people vote? Democracy is a quaint idea, but this isn’t a fairy tale. Elections take time, and our enemies won’t wait for us to play politics.”
Baldre’s gaze hardened. “Perhaps time is what we need. The people deserve a voice in choosing their ruler.”
“Fools,” muttered Varrik Ironhand, a grizzled dwarf in charge of trade and mining. “Do you truly think the commoners can make such a decision? They’ll pick whoever promises them the most grain and ale.”
“And would that be so wrong?” Elaris countered. “A ruler who understands their needs might be exactly what this kingdom requires.”
Sig raised a hand, his cheeks still stuffed with food. “I like the idea of an election. Keeps things lively, eh? Let the people squabble over it instead of us for a change.”
Shielah sighed, exasperated. “This is absurd. Aurelith has thrived under monarchy for centuries. Change like this could destabilize everything.”
“It’s already destabilized,” Thury said, his voice cutting through the noise. He stood, his golden eyes scanning the room. “We can’t cling to the past. The kingdom needs a leader chosen not by birthright but by merit. We owe the people that much.”
The room fell silent. Even Shielah couldn’t argue with the weight of his words.
“How would it work?” Baldre asked. “This election?”
Elaris stepped forward. “We set parameters. Candidates must have proven leadership and loyalty to the kingdom. Each faction—nobles, commoners, and scholars—can propose one candidate. The people will vote, and the council will oversee the process to ensure fairness.”
“It’s a gamble,” Shielah said reluctantly. “But perhaps it’s a gamble worth taking.”
Thury nodded. “Then it’s settled. We’ll announce the election and begin preparations immediately. This kingdom must heal, and it starts with giving the people a voice.”
The council members exchanged uneasy glances but ultimately nodded in agreement. The meeting adjourned with a newfound sense of purpose. As the members filed out, Shielah lingered, her mind racing. She had come here seeking change, and change was exactly what she got. But would it be enough?
An election would begin soon. It was at this moment she made up her mind. She wanted to rule. But in order to win, she needed help. And she knew just the person to seek.