ReachededededededER ONE
THE MAN THEY CALLED WORTHLESS
The kingdom of Aerathor had once been called blessed.
It was a name carved into monuments, whispered by priests, sung by travelling minstrels, and written in the oldest records of the royal library.
The Blessed Kingdom.
For centuries, Aerathor had stood between the mountains of the north and the great golden plains of the south. Its walls were built from dark stone that had survived countless winters. Its towers reached toward the heavens, crowned with banners bearing the emblem of the royal house.
At the heart of the kingdom stood Valerius, the capital.
From a distance, Valerius looked like a city touched by the gods.
Its marble bridges stretched over the River Asterion.
Its streets were lined with ancient columns.
Golden statues of former kings stood at the entrances to the great squares, their stone faces forever watching over the people.
And upon the highest hill stood the Citadel of Aerathor.
The home of the crown.
The home of King Othmar.
The home of wealth that most of Aerathor's people would never see.
But if one walked far enough from the palace...
The kingdom looked different.
The marble disappeared.
The golden lamps became broken lanterns.
The clean streets became narrow paths covered in mud.
The smell of expensive spices from the royal markets was replaced by the smell of smoke, sweat, and stale water.
And hunger had become so common that nobody called it a tragedy anymore.
They simply called it life.
That morning, the sun rose over Valerius without mercy.
It poured golden light across the rooftops.
Children woke beneath torn blankets.
Mothers searched empty cupboards.
Old men stood in queues outside grain houses that had very little grain left to sell.
A woman named Eudora held an empty wooden bowl against her chest.
She had been standing in the same line for nearly an hour.
Behind her stood her two grandchildren.
The younger one, a boy of perhaps six summers, leaned against her leg.
"Grandmother."
Eudora looked down.
"What is it, little one?"
"Will we eat today?"
The question was innocent.
That made it worse.
Eudora swallowed.
"Yes."
The boy looked up at her.
"When?"
She forced a smile.
"Soon."
He nodded because he trusted her.
YOU ARE READING
THE UNOPENED GRAVE
Historical FictionTHE UNOPENED GRAVE They called him useless. In a kingdom drowning in hunger, corruption, and war, he was the last man anyone expected to become a savior. Yet when Aerathor's people had nowhere else to turn, he fought for them. He fed the hungry. He...
