(KOTG) Ch 5: The Massive Throne, Uncertain Fears!

The castle was enormous, a sprawling labyrinth of gleaming corridors, vaulted ceilings, and walls adorned with priceless treasures. As Kyvar

The castle was enormous, a sprawling labyrinth of gleaming corridors, vaulted ceilings, and walls adorned with priceless treasures. As Kyvareth carried Thron in her arms, the tiny human couldn't stop gawking at his surroundings. Gold filigree lined every edge of the stone walls, and enormous chandeliers hung high above them, each one larger than his entire apartment back home. Thron felt like an ant in the middle of a giant's treasury.

Every so often, they passed rooms so large that Thron swore they could hold entire football stadiums—or at least hundreds of people his size. The doors alone were a marvel, carved from what appeared to be a single slab of crystal and inlaid with scenes of epic battles and grand feasts. The air smelled faintly of lavender and something earthy, like fresh rain on stone, and every sound seemed to echo endlessly in the vastness of the space.

"Is... is all of this really necessary?" Thron muttered, craning his neck to look at yet another gilded statue of some ancient warrior.

"Necessary?" Kyvareth's voice rumbled softly, amusement evident in her tone. "You are a king now, Thron. This is your home."

"Feels more like a museum," Thron mumbled.

Kyvareth chuckled, her laughter vibrating through her arms as she held him. "You will grow accustomed to it."

"I doubt that," he replied, glancing nervously at a tapestry that depicted a creature so monstrous he hoped he'd never meet it.

At last, they entered a massive chamber. Thron's jaw nearly dropped as he took in the room. It was circular, with ceilings so high they vanished into shadow. Columns of polished obsidian lined the space, and the floor was a mosaic of silver and onyx tiles that shimmered faintly, even in the low light. At the center of the room was a throne—a throne so colossal that even Kyvareth, who stood taller than any creature Thron had ever seen, would have looked small in it.

Kyvareth carried Thron forward and set him down before the massive seat. He tilted his head back, trying to take in its full height. The throne was made of what looked like dark stone, but it was veined with streaks of shimmering blue, like liquid stars frozen in place. The armrests alone were taller than Thron, and the back of the throne towered above them, carved with intricate designs of dragons, wings unfurling and claws outstretched.

"How am I supposed to sit on this?" Thron asked, his voice tinged with incredulity.

"Like this," Kyvareth said matter-of-factly, plucking him up like a doll and placing him squarely on the throne's seat.

Thron sat there awkwardly, his feet dangling several feet above the ground. He glanced at Kyvareth, raising an eyebrow. "Not really what I meant, but... okay."

Kyvareth crossed her arms, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "The throne is meant to represent your status, your majesty. You are the king of the Akyri. This throne is a symbol of your power, your greatness."

Thron let out a nervous laugh. "Right. Power. Greatness. Sure. Look, I don't know if I'm cut out for this. I'm not even from this world. I'm just a guy—an average guy who, frankly, does not want to get crushed accidentally by some overly enthusiastic bow or handshake."

Kyvareth's expression softened as she stepped closer to him, her blue eyes meeting his. "I understand your hesitation. But our kind have been waiting for centuries, Thron. Waiting for a king to answer our wishes. The prophecy spoke of someone who would come from beyond, someone who would bring unity and strength to our people."

She paused, her voice lowering. "I want you to stay. But I will not force you. If you wish to return to your world, we will make preparations to send you back."

Thron fell silent, staring down at his dangling feet. He didn't know what to say. This world was beautiful, yes, but it was also terrifying. And yet... something about Kyvareth's words stirred something deep within him. Could he really just walk away from all of this? From her?

Before he could reply, a deep rumble echoed through the chamber as the massive doors at the far end began to creak open. Thron and Kyvareth both turned their heads to see who was entering.

A woman strode through the doors, her presence commanding the attention of the entire room. She wore sleek black armor that gleamed faintly under the chamber's dim light, every piece intricately detailed and perfectly fitted to her form. Her long black hair flowed behind her like a river of ink, and her sharp, striking features carried an air of unshakable confidence. She moved with the grace of a predator, every step deliberate, her piercing red eyes locking onto Thron.

Thron felt his cheeks grow warm. She was... stunning. Absolutely stunning. He tried to keep his composure, but his traitorous body refused to listen.

Kyvareth smiled faintly, her voice tinged with warmth as she gestured toward the newcomer. "This is Captain Lysera Velhart, commander of the royal guard."