A King's Departure

Simon goes in search of something to save his people.

“I ride alone,” he said.

“Your Majesty,” Captain Delran objected. “The Council insists ”

“I am not going to war, Captain,” Simon said evenly, swinging into the saddle. “Not yet. I am going to find a future.”

Delran looked unconvinced, but he bowed all the same. “Then may the waters guide you.”

Simon turned Zephiron toward the southern gate. The towering portcullis creaked open slowly, revealing the broken road that led down the cliffs and into the world below. He did not look back.

Not even once.

The road from Talemar was cruel in its silence.

Gone were the legions of Alliance soldiers. Gone was the noise of the court, the endless arguments over strategy, numbers, and dwindling supply lines. All that remained was the rhythmic clop of hooves, the distant cry of seabirds, and the occasional whisper of the wind.

Simon’s thoughts drifted back to the hidden sanctum beneath Castle Talemar where he’d stood before the glowing runes that circled the Seal of Water. A screen of light had hovered above the seal, humming with quiet power, displaying shifting images that only the chosen bearer could see. Visions of floods, storms, memory, and time.

He had studied it every night since his father’s death, trying to understand what it wanted from him.

There had been a moment brief, terrifying when the seal had shown him the broken sky above the ruined Air Temple. The shattered remains of the Seal of Air drifted like ash through the air. And falling from the heavens, a single silver object: a Seed of Resurrection.

He hadn’t seen where it landed. Only that it had begun.

The number of remaining Seals had already fallen to four.

And if Laraiz of the Dravok Dynasty destroyed another, the world might reach a point of no return.