Fallen Throne Novels & Stories

Mom chuckled and gave him a flying kiss. "Geez, I don't wanna see you guys flirt anymore. I am done. Goodnight dear folks." They wished me back as I went upstairs in my room. Taking a shower, I sat down at my bed. My gaze fell over the book kept on the table. Right, I should start with the assignment. "Myth of The Broken Throne". I mumbled opening the book. The pages were yellowish, a little tattered on the corners, clearing showing how old it was. Nonetheless, the classic vibes were all I needed to jump into the story.

The glyph projected a shape, not a man, not a creature, but a throne. A throne made of shadows, moonlight, and starlight woven together—three parts. Triad and Convergent. The original throne. The First Throne. Alessia’s heart pounded. She whispered, “The Architect wasn’t trying to create power.” “He was trying to reclaim it,” Selene finished. The throne pulsed again. —Descendant. —Bearer. —Claim what was denied. Kael stepped in front of her. “No,” he said firmly. “She’s not touching that.”

It would be higher than the throne itself. The gavel had fallen, and the sound was not of volition, but of fragmentation. —--

Inside, they found no statues, only memories frozen in time. In the center of the hall stood five thrones, each corresponding to an element. But there was a sixth throne—shattered and cold—at the very end. ThroneElementOriginal CustodianStatus The GlacialIce/OrderThe Queen of CalmElara's Template The SolarFire/WillThe King of CoreKael's Template The TideWater/LifeThe Abyssal LordTrench-King's Template The CrystalEarth/HarmonyThe Weaver of BondsZane's Template The GaleAir/OscillationThe Voice of the WindJulian's Template

The scream inside my mind didn’t fade. It echoed louder, sharper, cutting through the throne’s ancient call like lightning splitting the sky. DO NOT TAKE THE THRONE. The light surrounding me shattered instantly. I stumbled backward just before sitting, my heart racing violently. The throne reacted. Not calmly. Not patiently. Angrily. Cracks spread across its surface, dark energy leaking from within like smoke forced through broken stone. The entire palace shook, pillars groaning as if something enormous had shifted beneath the foundation.

I slowly walked forward, my heart racing as I tried to register what was going on. “I leave tonight, I need you to make sure no one tries to steal my throne while I’m gone. I may have spared your life in the human realm, but if a slip up happens in my kingdom, under your guard, I will kill you.” The man sounded excited about death, as if he hoped the person would fail. I turned the corner entering a huge room. A single golden throne sat in the middle of dais. Gold skulls sat at the end of each armrest, the back of the throne had angels falling from the sky into a pit of fire carved into it. Gold was moulded into bones and created the base of the chair.

Chapter Fifty-Three The Fall of the Moon Palace The palace trembled beneath their feet. A crack raced across the throne room floor, splitting the ancient silver tiles in two. Dust drifted from the ceiling in thick clouds as another section of the western wall collapsed into the valley below. The Moon Palace had stood for thousands of years. Now it was dying. No sword could stop it. No spell could save it. The corruption had reached its heart. Ariana stood in the center of the ruined chamber, staring at the throne where generations of her family had ruled.

The folder slipped from Seraphina's trembling fingers. Papers scattered across the archive room floor. Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke. The page lay between them like a bomb waiting to explode. Thomas Vale. ELIMINATE. The red ink looked almost fresh beneath the fluorescent lights. Her father's name. Her father's life. Reduced to a single command. For a moment, the world disappeared. The archive room faded. The shelves faded. Even Damian Blackwood faded.

An old man, clad in tattered robes, stepping forward with slow, measured steps. He stopped a few paces away, his gaze settling on Elior. “I know you,” the man rasped. “You are the one who shattered the Throne.” The man’s name was Orris, one of the last survivors of Dawnfire. He had seen the sky break, had felt the change ripple through the land. “The First King built the Throne for a reason,” he said. “It was never just a seat of power. It was a cage.” A chill ran through Elior.

“Is that what this has all been about? You disrupted my wedding and kidnapped me, bringing me here so you could feel important and rub it in my face that you killed my family.” Sergio didn’t speak. “You let me believe I was nothing. Then you chained me to your side, gave me knives, maps, riddles... like I was a pawn in some twisted game.” He finally stepped forward. “You are simply here as payment for a debt owed to my family... You were never a pawn I chose.” “Then what am I?” she asked bitterly. He looked at her sadly. “You're the queen that was never meant to rise.” ************************************************** Suddenly, the manor’s alarm pierced the quiet.