The Forsaken Heir: Rise of the Shadow Monarch

Chapter 2:Accused

Kael remained frozen on the hill as the royal captain's voice echoed through Ashcroft.

"We seek one called Kael Ashryn. Step forward willingly, and no one else will suffer the consequences."

The villagers exchanged nervous glances before every finger seemed to point in the same direction.

"He lives in the cabin near the forest!"

"I saw him this morning!"

"The cursed boy is hiding outside the village!"

Kael's heart sank.

Not one person hesitated.

Not one person defended him.

The captain turned his horse toward the forest. "Find him."

More than twenty soldiers charged forward.

Kael instinctively stepped back. Run.

He sprinted into the trees, branches whipping against his face. His breath grew ragged as armored footsteps and barking orders closed in behind him.

"There!"

A soldier spotted him.

Kael darted between towering pines, but he had nowhere to go. Within minutes, the soldiers surrounded him with drawn swords.

"I haven't done anything!" Kael shouted, raising both hands.

The captain rode forward, his cold gray eyes fixed on him.

"You are Kael Ashryn?"

"...Yes."

"Then you are under arrest for the theft of the Sacred Relic of Valenor, property of the Crown."

Kael blinked in disbelief.

"The what?"

Before he could say another word, two soldiers grabbed his arms and forced him to his knees.

"There must be a mistake! I've never even been inside the capital!"

The captain ignored him.

"Search the cabin."

Several soldiers rushed toward Kael's small home. Moments later, one of them emerged holding a wooden box wrapped in faded cloth.

"Captain! We found this hidden beneath the floorboards."

Kael's eyes widened.

"What? I've never seen that before!"

The box was opened in front of everyone.

Inside lay a crystal orb no larger than a fist, glowing with soft golden light. Ancient runes floated across its surface.

Gasps spread through the villagers.

"The Sacred Relic..."

"They found it!"

"I knew he was cursed!"

The captain's expression darkened.

"Evidence confirmed."

Kael shook his head desperately.

"Someone planted it! I swear I don't know how it got there!"

"Save your lies."

The soldiers dragged him back to the village square, where nearly every resident had gathered to watch.

An elderly merchant stepped forward.

"I saw Kael sneaking around after sunset three nights ago."

Kael stared at him.

"That's not true!"

Then came another voice.

"I watched him carrying a strange glowing object into his cabin."

It was the baker.

Kael felt as though the ground had vanished beneath him.

"You never saw anything!"

A third villager stepped forward.

"He threatened anyone who asked about it."

"I never—"

"You've hated him for years!" someone shouted from the crowd.

"He's finally shown his true colors!"

The accusations came one after another until Kael could barely hear his own voice.

Every lie sounded more convincing than the truth.

The captain raised a hand, silencing the crowd.

"Kael Ashryn, the evidence against you is overwhelming. Possession of the Sacred Relic is an act of treason against the Kingdom of Valenor."

He nodded to the soldiers.

Chains were fastened around Kael's wrists.

The cold iron bit into his skin.

As they marched him through the village, he searched the faces around him, hoping—just once—to find someone who believed him.

He found only relief.

Relief that the cursed boy was finally being taken away.

The captain stopped before the village notice board and unrolled a parchment bearing the royal seal.

"By decree of His Majesty, King Aldren of Valenor..."

He looked directly into Kael's eyes.

"...the accused shall be transported to the capital at once."

A heavy silence settled over the square.

The captain's next words struck like thunder.

"For the crime of stealing the Sacred Relic..."

"...Kael Ashryn is hereby sentenced to death by public execution."

Kael's mind went blank.

Death.

For a crime he had never committed.

As the villagers erupted into cheers, Kael slowly lowered his head, unable to understand why fate had chosen him once again.

Far beneath the skin of his left hand...

...the black mark pulsed.

Once.

Twice.

Then it began to glow.