(KOTG) Ch 6: Kingdoms & The Things To Protect!

Thron sat awkwardly on the colossal golden seat that had been reshaped into something resembling a throne for his size. It still dwarfed him

Thron sat awkwardly on the colossal golden seat that had been reshaped into something resembling a throne for his size. It still dwarfed him, like an ant sitting on a massive couch. He was starting to adjust to the idea of being "king" of this kingdom of titanic warriors, but the situation wasn't getting any less bizarre.

That's when she entered the throne room.

The towering figure of Lysera made the air in the room feel heavier. Her black armor gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the palace's massive windows, barely able to contain the powerful muscles of her frame. She was enormous—easily as tall as Kyvareth but much more intimidating. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly, scanning the room with an expression that could have frozen fire. Every step she took echoed like thunder, her spiked boots striking the polished floor with deliberate force.

Thron's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't help but admire her. She was as much a wonder to him as the rest of this insane kingdom—fierce, unyielding, and unapologetically terrifying. Her black armor looked more suited for battle than diplomacy, and for a brief, absurd moment, he wondered how she even got dressed. Did she need help?

Lysera stopped a few paces from the throne, her crimson eyes locking onto Thron. Even standing, she towered over him, but then she did something unexpected. She dropped to one knee, her head bowing in a gesture of respect. Even kneeling, she loomed over him by what felt like several stories.

"Your Majesty," she said, her deep, commanding voice filling the chamber. "It is good to havew you here. The kingdom has been in desperate need of leadership."

Her words sounded polite enough, but Thron couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't entirely truthful. There was something in the way her gaze lingered on him, as if she were sizing him up—or perhaps doubting him entirely.

He cleared his throat, trying to steady his nerves. "I'm... happy to be here," he said, his voice coming out more confidently than he'd expected. He hoped it would be enough to match her intensity.

Lysera's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, studying him with a sharpness that made him sweat. The silence stretched, and Thron could feel the weight of her gaze pressing down on him. Just as the tension became unbearable, she stood to her full, staggering height and turned her attention to Kyvareth.

"Lady Kyvareth," Lysera said curtly, "scouts have reported enemy movement from the borders of Vytharion. A small force has been spotted crossing into our lands."

Thron noticed the faintest flicker of concern cross Kyvareth's face before she nodded. "How many?" she asked.

"Enough," Lysera replied. "I will take a small group of my best soldiers and intercept them before they reach our villages. We cannot allow them to gain any ground."

Thron blinked, feeling like he'd just walked into a movie scene. He glanced between the two towering women, the tension between them palpable. "Uh, hold on," he said, raising a hand like he was in school. "What's... Vytharion? And who are these people crossing the borders?"

Kyvareth turned her gaze back to him, her expression softening. "Vytharion is one of the neighboring kingdoms, Your Majesty," she explained. "Our land, Vorshalda, is one of five great nations that share this continent." She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "There is Vorshalda, our kingdom. Then there is Lorym, a nation of sorcerers. The Kingdom of Azyra, where winged beasts and their riders rule the skies. Eryndor, a land of endless forests and hunters. And finally..." She trailed off, her face darkening. "Finally, there is Vytharion. The most dangerous of them all."

"Why?" Thron asked, sitting up straighter. "What makes them so dangerous?"

Kyvareth's expression hardened. "Greed," she said simply. "They covet what we have. Our resources, our knowledge... but most of all, our power."

"Power?" Thron echoed, frowning.

Kyvareth nodded. "The power to create Titanborn. It is something unique to Vorshalda. Our people have guarded this secret for generations, but if Vytharion were to seize it..." Her voice trailed off, her meaning clear.

"Then they could make their own giants," Thron finished, his stomach sinking.

"Precisely," Kyvareth said. "And they would use that power to subjugate all the kingdoms." She gestured to Lysera. "It is our duty to ensure that never happens."

Thron sat back, digesting the information. It sounded like Vorshalda was constantly under threat, and now Vytharion was testing their borders. He glanced at Lysera, who was still standing stiffly, waiting for permission to leave. Something about the way she carried herself told him she wouldn't hesitate to charge into danger without a second thought.

And that's when the idea hit him.

"I'm coming with you," he said.

Both Kyvareth and Lysera froze, their heads snapping toward him in perfect unison. "What?" they said together, their voices layered with disbelief.

"I'm serious," Thron said, standing up on his miniature throne. "If this kingdom is supposed to be mine, I need to know what's going on. I can't just sit here while you all run off to fight battles on my behalf."

Lysera narrowed her crimson eyes. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, you are... untrained. This is no place for a king."

Kyvareth frowned, her concern evident. "Thron, you've only just arrived. Perhaps it's best if you—"

"No," he interrupted, surprising even himself. "If I'm going to do this—if I'm really going to be your king—I need to understand what it means. I need to see what you're up against."

Lysera crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. "And what do you intend to do when the fighting starts? Hide behind me?"

Thron swallowed hard. "Maybe," he admitted, "but at least I'll be there."

Kyvareth and Lysera exchanged a long look, some unspoken conversation passing between them. Finally, Lysera sighed and turned back to him.

"Very well," she said reluctantly. "But do not expect me to slow down for you, Your Majesty."

Thron grinned nervously. "Wouldn't dream of it."