“Guards, open the doors please, I have a message for the king.”

Two tall, dark knight guards look at each other before they proceed to open the large, gold-covered doors, allowing the messenger into the Throne Room.

“What is it, Albus?” the king asks as he stands from his throne.

“Hello, sir,” says Albus as he bows. “I’m afraid the Calb have come back.”

“What do you mean they’re back? We’ve burnt them all.”

“Sir, we thought so too, but early this morning, multiple tower guards reported seeing dark figures moving about two miles southeast of the wall. And just past that, the Wanderer of the Sands returned from his travels, speaking crazy words…”

“Ha ha, that’s probably some wolves or deer in the forest. Finley, go check the Altar of the Defeated and bring me the ashes of their queen.”

Finley nods and makes his way out of the Throne Room toward the altar. He unlocks the door and steps inside the room where the ashes of the dead are kept. He pauses for a moment, captivated by the golden radiance cast by the sunlight streaming through a small glass opening in the roof.

But he remembers his purpose: the ashes of the queen. He scans the room and recalls they are stored beside Lawk’s Armor, on the left side. He picks up the urn of the queen and opens it to ensure the ashes are inside… but they are gone.

Behind him, the doors creak closed, and he quickly turns around.

There, standing in front of the now-closed doors, is a figure dressed in a purple and gold cloak, staring down at his feet. Finley draws his sword and points it toward the man. The cloaked man looks up, and Finley is frozen in terror at the sight, his weapon slipping from his grasp.

Finley’s scream pierces the air, echoing down the hall to the guards stationed outside the king’s Throne Room. They rush to investigate.

They arrive at the altar room, just twenty feet from the Throne Room, and force their way through the door, wielding their shields and short swords. Inside, they find Finley’s lifeless body sprawled on the ground and the cloaked man standing above him, gazing upward at the light streaming through the glass opening. One guard immediately charges and slashes cleanly through the figure, causing the purple cloak to fall to the floor. The guard, confused, picks up the cloak and finds no body, only ashes.

“Go tell the king,” says one guard, handing the cloak to his partner.

The guard dashes back to the Throne Room and bursts in to deliver his report.

“Sir, sir! Finley is dead! There was a man inside wearing a purple and gold cloak. My partner struck him down, but there was no body, only ashes!” He hands the cloak to the king.

King Pisces inspects the cloak, turning it over to examine the symbols etched into its neck. He pauses, his face darkening.

“Alright, calm down,” he says, his voice steady but tense. Taking a deep breath, he begins. “There was a prophecy long ago that foretold my fate. It said I, Pisces, the thirty-third king of Beqaz, would be dethroned by a shadow king. A being born of darkness, rising to undo the light and claim my throne.” He holds up the cloak for all to see. “This… this is no coincidence,” He says as he raises it higher, with a faint stream of ashes beginning to fall from its folds to the floor below.

The Throne Room begins to fill with the most powerful figures in the kingdom: the mage, the archer, the great knight, and of course, the queen and king.

King Pisces steps forward, his voice commanding. “Listen closely. These shadows are not merely beings of darkness. They take the form of whomever they make eye contact with last. They are deceivers, shapeshifters, and they are here to sow chaos. I repeat, do not be fooled. They walk among us now, but we will not falter. Everyone, take your positions and watch over one another. Trust no one blindly.” *

The mage, archer, and great knight are dismissed and take their positions in the castle. The mage and archer ascend to the upper floor, gaining a vantage point to watch for threats beyond the walls, while the great knight patrols the castle, seeking any sign of danger.

Turning to his queen, King Pisces says, “My love, we need you now more than ever.. We must do everything in our control to prevent this prophecy from being fulfilled.”

The queen slowly turns to him and smiles. “Of course, my king. We must.” She turns back to face the entrance of the Throne Room.

The king’s attention shifts to the windows as the light begins to dim. A shadow stretches across the room as the golden doors creak open, revealing a figure backed by the moonlight’s glow. The figure steps forward, cloaked in the king’s garments, each step carries an ominous weight, as though darkness itself has entered the room.

King Pisces is compelled to look at the figure, his face mirrored back at him as the shadow king’s features shift to match his own. The shadow king smiles.

“My queen, attack him!” King Pisces yells in desperation.

But the queen doesn’t move. She smiles faintly, turns to the king, and dashes through him like a phantom, her form dissolving into shadow as she passes. The king stumbles backward, his eyes wide and losing focus, before collapsing to the floor. His crown rolls away, catching the faint glow of moonlight.

As chaos unfolds throughout the kingdom, the shadow king walks past the scene and ascends to the throne. The Age of Calb begins.