Fallen Throne Novels & Stories

That sly old fox. Couldn't blame him though. I had a knack for getting into trouble almost every time I left the house. The council had even once threatened to confiscate my talisman as punishment for breaking laws. Like I would ever let them. My talisman was an anklet with an emerald stone and strange insignia. Every registered vampire received a talisman from the council which enabled them to walk in sunlight without burning. Every council had a special witch to create talismans for the vampires they oversaw. I was different, I knew it. I never knew my mother. I was found in Lycan Woods by Tiberius who was hunting. Lycans and Vampires maintained a treaty, so far neither disrupted the peace

-In the treatment room- “Eren who fell because of the monster's brunt apparently managed to inject the substance into Jacob's body. Jacob who had turned into a monster immediately fainted after getting the injection. Eren slowly rose from his fallen position. "Phew... he almost bit me..." Eren said as he looked at Jacob who had fainted and was lying on the floor. The atmosphere suddenly fell silent. Doctor Rin, Doctor Anna and Zoya were waiting anxiously from outside the treatment room until suddenly...

Emiel's return meant nothing but good things in store for the future. Roy glanced at his grandfather, arranging the chess board, with a grin on his face. Alexander used to be a tough chess player during his early forties. The thirst of chess bought Alexander the title of undefeatable old guy in their neighborhood. "Grandfather.. Will Uncle come before Christmas or.." Roy's voice faded, eyes traveling to the single piece of artifact, standing gracefully in the middle of the terrace. A very exuberant expressioned sculpture of a young fairy maiden, holding a jar of what seemed like Elixir.

And he starts laughing. “My death doesn’t matter,” he says, blood already bubbling up out of his lips. “You’ve already surrendered the crown. Lycan rule is over.” Alexander towers over Coltain, regarding him calmly, almost pityingly. Only I know the pain from the silver disintegrating his skin beneath his battle gear is slowly eating at him. I can feel it through our bond. “I did surrender the crown,” Alexander concedes. “And I shall equally kill anyone else who tries to hold me to it.”

The ancient throne split down the middle. And the final chain binding the Fallen King... began to break.

The First King’s voice returned one last time. “Break the Throne.” “Or preserve the cycle.” The words echoed across existence. Then Thomas made his choice. He grabbed the sword. Immediately. BOOOOOOOOOM! The entire Throne dimension exploded with light. Far away— the prison cracked violently. The horror screamed louder than ever before. Reality itself began to split. And Ava shouted: “THOMAS!” As the Throne began to fall.

Nora picked up the folded paper. She didn't open it. She held it. "You want the throne," she said. "Yes." "And you want me to trust you." "Yes." "Those two things are going to conflict at some point." "Probably," he said. "When they do, I'll tell you." He held her gaze without wavering. "I want the throne through legitimate succession. If Caspian fulfills the anchor requirement and succeeds, the succession is his by right and I'll accept that." He paused. "What I won't accept is the succession being built on an arrangement that's being managed dishonestly. But then. if the anchor is being kept in the dark about the terms of her own arrangement

The Heart of Reality. 💔 There had never been a fourth. Or so they believed. ⸻ 🌙 The Forgotten Throne The book revealed another memory. 🌙 Ancient ruins appeared around them. A massive palace. Larger than kingdoms. Built from black crystal. 🖤 Four thrones stood inside. Not three. Four. 👑👑👑👑 The first belonged to the King. The second to the Guardians. The third to the Heart. And the fourth…

They bent their knees. She didn't sit on the throne. She broke it—with a single crack of her sword. And amidst the ruins of black salt and tears stone… The Citadel awoke anew. But peace never comes easily to cursed lands. Krishna's sword still radiated moonlight, dimly glowing in the broken room as the final pieces of the throne shattered beneath her. The rebels behind her wailed—some fell to their knees, others threw themselves to the floor, overcome by the strange silence after all that screaming.

And in the center of that emptiness, there was a single structure—a throne. The throne was a monument to failure. Made of cracked and weathered obsidian, it was the skeletal frame of a once-grand seat of power. From its fissures, black shadows dripped endlessly like obsidian tears, pooling at its base into a puddle of darkness. "This throne..." Rayden realized with a quiet horror, "...is me?"