The Throne of the New Nagareth
The night hung heavy over the newborn capital of Nagareth—a kingdom reborn from the ashes of war. The stars burned bright above the towering black walls, and the air carried the scent of steel, ash, and the faintest trace of rain. Fires from distant forges flickered across the city, reflecting on the obsidian spires that now crowned the rebuilt land.
Within the heart of that city stood the Grand Court—an enormous hall of shadow and gold. Its pillars rose like carved monoliths, etched with the new sigil of the moon and sword. Yet, for all its grandeur, the hall was eerily empty. No courtiers filled its space, no servants whispered in the corners. Only the sound of echoing footsteps filled the chamber.
The main throne stood silent—massive, carved from black stone streaked with gold veins. It was unoccupied. Before it, in the glow of torchlight, stood a man who carried authority like a second skin. His hair was jet black, tied back loosely, his eyes golden and piercing like molten sunlight. Even without a crown, he commanded the room completely.
Leon Nagareth.
He wore a regal uniform—black trimd with gold, the fabric heavy yet elegant. His expression was calm but unyielding. Power radiated from him—not through showy arrogance, but through a stillness that made everyone else feel small.
Before him stood Captain Black, rigid and disciplined. Beside him, Ronan with his calm intensity. Vice Captain Johnny—broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed. Nova, quiet but unwavering. And beside her, Alina, whose pink hair glowed faintly under the torchlight, her eyes bright and unreadable.
Leon’s gaze drifted across them, stopping on Nova. She stood tall, her black hair glinting faintly green in the firelight. There was a flicker of uncertainty in her usually firm stance.
"Why don’t you sit, my lord?" she asked quietly. Her tone carried more than respect—it carried concern, familiarity that edged toward sothing deeper.
Leon turned to her, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips. "Because, Nova," he said softly, "this throne isn’t mine. Not yet."
Her brows knit together. "What do you an?"
Leon’s eyes hardened, though his smile remained. "Because this will not be the throne of Nagareth. It will be the throne of Vellore. Nagareth is gone. Its ghosts rest. What I build now is sothing else."
A silence followed his words. The torches flickered, as if the fire itself hesitated to breathe. Alina shifted slightly, her pink eyes catching the light.
"So... this is to be our first summons?" she asked, her tone steady but searching.
Leon’s voice dropped lower, quieter, but filled the hall with an almost divine certainty. "Yes. The first command of the new reign."
He took a slow step forward, boots clicking against marble. "From this night onward, I take full control over the kingdom. The councils, the armies, the lands—all will answer to . The age of hesitation is over."
Captain Black straightened even further, his posture already perfect but sohow more rigid now. Ronan exchanged a look with Johnny—silent understanding passing between old soldiers.
Leon’s gaze returned to Nova. His golden eyes softened, but his tone did not. "Nova, you and Natasha will depart tonight for Moonstone Kingdom. Fetch our families—and every citizen from Silver City. All of them. Bring them ho."
Nova bowed her head, her voice low. "Understood."
Leon’s eyes lingered on her for a breath longer. "And Nova," he added, voice quieter now, "bring her personally. Tueta. Don’t delegate it."
Nova t his gaze, surprise flickering before she nodded firmly. "I will. I’ll return as soon as possible."
Leon nodded once, then turned his attention to Alina. She stood like a statue of elegance—pink hair flowing down her back, her eyes sharp as crystal.
Leon’s eyes lingered on her for a breath longer. "And Nova," he added, voice quieter now, "bring her personally. Tueta. Don’t delegate it."
Nova t his gaze, surprise flickering before she nodded firmly. "I will. I’ll return as soon as possible."
Leon nodded once, then turned his attention to Alina. She stood like a statue of elegance—pink hair flowing down her back, her eyes sharp as crystal.
"Alina," Leon said. "I want your personal guard to act as our diplomats. Send word to every noble house—dukes, counts, viscounts, barons."
He took another step forward, the shadows curling around him like smoke. "They will either submit to ... or they will die."
The temperature in the room seed to drop. Even Alina’s perfectly calm façade wavered for half a second before she nodded, voice smooth as silk. "As you command, sire. I’ll send them by dawn."
Leon’s gaze t hers, and for a mont, the weight of shared understanding passed between them—she knew what that ant. There would be blood before morning.
Captain Black finally spoke, voice low and gravelled. "My lord... and what of the old banners? The ones still loyal to the forr court?"
Leon didn’t answer imdiately. He turned, his golden eyes falling on the empty throne behind him. The flicker of torchlight danced on his face, painting it half in gold, half in shadow.
"They’ll learn the sa truth everyone else will," he said finally. "Nagareth is dead. Those who cling to its corpse will join it in the ground."
Silence again. The air itself felt like it was holding its breath.
Then Leon’s expression shifted—less a smile, more a shadow of one. He looked back at Captain Black, eyes gleaming like steel under sunlight.
"Captain Black..." he said slowly.
The captain stepped forward imdiately. "Yes, my lord."
Leon’s gaze locked on him, and though his tone was calm, sothing dangerous simred beneath it.
"This next order," Leon said, "is for your ears alone."
The captain’s heartbeat echoed in his chest, but he didn’t move, didn’t even blink.
Leon’s lips parted slightly, as if to speak—
—but the torches flickered again, and the sound of the distant wind filled the court like a whisper of fate.
The night seed to tighten around them.
"Captain Black—"
And then—
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