THE CRONOVERSE: THE LOST LAND OF AMAGI
Prologue: Whispers of Rebellion
The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and burning candles. In a hidden chamber, deep beneath the earth, shadows danced along the walls as flickering torchlight struggled against the darkness. Leach, a man wrapped in tattered robes as black as midnight, knelt on the cold floor. His hollow eyes, filled with a strange mix of devotion and madness, stared up at the woman before him.
"My Lady," he whispered, his voice rough like gravel. "The plans have begun, just as you asked."
Amiss stood tall, her sharp features carved by the dim glow of the ancient runes beneath her feet. She smiled—a slow, dangerous curve of her lips—as her fingers brushed the hilt of the cursed blade hanging at her side.
"Yes, Leach," she murmured, her voice smooth like honey but laced with poison. "You have done well. And when I rise as Queen, I will keep my promise. Your people will be saved."
Leach bowed lower, his forehead nearly touching the stone. "Thank you, my Lady," he breathed, his voice trembling with gratitude.
Amiss turned away, her gaze piercing through the arched window. Beyond it, storm clouds gathered, swirling like an omen. Far in the distance, the towering spires of Krelious's kingdom gleamed under the fading light—a kingdom she had sworn to destroy.
Her fingers tightened around the windowsill, cracking the stone beneath her grip. "Just wait, Krelious," she hissed, her voice barely louder than the wind. "Your throne will crumble. Your empire will burn. And I… I will be the one to watch it fall."
The wind howled in answer, carrying her words into the night.
The Kingdom on the Brink
Far from the shadows where Amiss plotted, the golden halls of Milani's kingdom stood proud against the coming storm. The marble floors shone like mirrors, reflecting the worried faces of nobles and soldiers alike. Whispers of war filled the air, thick and heavy like smoke.
In her private chambers, Milani—warrior-queen, ruler of the land—stood before a massive war table. Maps were spread across its surface, marked with red ink and small daggers stabbed into key locations. The firelight danced across her silver armor, casting sharp, flickering shadows on the walls.
The door creaked open, and Liam strode in, his usual smirk playing on his lips. "Hey, Milani," he said, his voice light, as if the world weren't about to collapse around them. "How are you doing?"
Milani didn't look up. "We are on the edge of war, Liam," she said, her voice cold. "This is not the time for your games."
Liam chuckled, leaning against the table with an easy confidence. "Come on, Milani. The gods aren't a threat. They're just digging their own graves."
Milani sighed, rubbing her temples. "Liam, this is exactly why I don't want to accept your proposal."
The humor drained from Liam's face. His jaw tightened. "What do you mean by that?"
She finally looked at him, her eyes hard as steel. "You never take anything seriously. You joke, you laugh, and then you snap like a wounded animal over the smallest thing. How can I trust you with a kingdom—with me—when you treat the end of the verse like some tavern joke?"
Liam's hands clenched into fists. "I fight when it matters," he growled.
Milani turned away, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Hmph. If I ever choose someone, it will never be you."
The words hit Liam like a blade to the chest. He stepped closer, his voice raw. "Mila, listen—we're different, I know. But that's why we fit. We were made for each other."
Milani whirled on him, fury burning in her eyes. "And who told you that? Oh, let me guess—Akermos."
Liam's patience snapped. "Even before he said it, I knew," he said, his voice shaking. "So please… don't push me away now. Not after everything we've been through."
Milani laughed, but there was no joy in it—only bitterness. "You have been through things, Liam. Not me. Never me. You've been chasing this dream for centuries, and I hate it. And right now? I hate you."
Liam's breath left him as if he'd been struck. For a moment, the room was silent except for the crackling fire. Then, with a trembling hand, he reached out, cupping her face. His thumb brushed her cheek, his eyes pleading.
"Mila," he whispered, his voice breaking. "You've always been the reason I keep fighting. Since that day… since everything. If you leave me now… I might lose myself."
Milani's heart pounded—once, twice—before she hardened it like steel. She shoved him away. "I don't care, Liam. I never wanted you. Not then. Not now. So please… leave."
Liam staggered back, his face crumbling. "Mila… I'll keep loving you," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "And maybe… one day, you'll love me too."
Milani pointed to the door, her voice sharp as a blade. "Liam. Get lost."
Without another word, Liam turned and walked out. The door slammed shut behind him.
Outside, the first drops of rain began to fall.
To Be Continued..