Throne: The King's Return

The first light of dawn crept over the horizon, spilling a golden hue across the village of Oakrest. Nestled between the borders of Zetra and Londri, the small village lay cradled in a fertile valley, surrounded by rolling hills and dense forests. It was a place where the world seemed to move a little slower, where the worries of distant lands felt like nothing more than distant echoes.

The air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew-kissed earth and freshly cut hay. It was a smell that Orion had known all his life, a smell that signaled the start of another day of work on the family farm. As the eldest child of the Leigh family, Orion had grown accustomed to the early mornings and the responsibilities that came with them.

Today was no different. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting long shadows over the fields as Orion made his way outside. The village was still quiet, save for the occasional call of a rooster and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. The tranquility of the morning was a comfort, a reminder that, here in Oakrest, life was simple and predictable.

Orion stepped into the barn, where the family’s livestock were already stirring. The cows mooed softly in greeting, and the chickens clucked as they scurried about, eager for their morning feed. He moved through the routine with practiced ease, his hands working without thought as they filled troughs with grain and hay.

As the sun climbed higher into the sky, the rest of the village began to awaken. The sounds of life drifted on the wind—children laughing, mothers calling out to their young ones, the clang of a blacksmith’s hammer on metal. Oakrest is a small village, but it was alive with the hum of daily activity, each villager playing their part in the communal rhythm.

Orion’s family had farmed this land for generations. His father, a tall, broad-shouldered man with weathered skin and a quiet strength, was already out in the fields, examining the crops. The summer had been kind this year, and the wheat stood tall and golden, ready for harvest. Orion joined him, carrying a scythe over one shoulder.

“Good morning, Orion,” their father greeted, his voice deep and steady. He glanced up at the sky, squinting against the sunlight. “Looks like we’ll have another warm day. Best to get started before it gets too hot.”

Orion nodded, setting to work beside him. They worked in silence, a comfortable quiet that spoke of years spent side by side. As they cut through the wheat, Orion felt a sense of satisfaction in the rhythmic swing of the scythe, in the way the golden stalks fell in neat rows at their feet.

By mid-morning, Orion’s younger siblings had joined them in the fields. The twins, Ivy and Zoe, were barely twelve years old, full of energy and mischief. They ran ahead, trying to outpace each other as they gathered the fallen wheat into bundles.

“Careful now,” their father warned, though his voice held a hint of amusement. “Don’t let your games ruin the crop.”

The twins grinned, but they slowed down, focusing more on their task. Orion watched them with a fond smile. The younger siblings were always eager to help, though their enthusiasm often led to more chaos than productivity.

As the morning stretched on, the family continued their work, their movements synchronized like a well-practiced dance. It was hard labor, but there was a certain peace in the simplicity of it. The fields, the village, the steady rhythm of the seasons—it was all Orion had ever known. And yet, as he paused to wipe the sweat from his brow and gaze out over the landscape, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing, that there was more to the world than this quiet corner of Annan.

The thought lingered as they finished their work and returned to the house for the midday meal. The Leigh's home was a modest stone cottage, its walls covered in ivy and its roof thatched with straw. Inside, the air was warm and filled with the scent of fresh bread and stew, thanks to Lisa, his mother, who was already busy in the kitchen.

The family gathered around the wooden table, sharing stories and laughter as they ate. Their mother, a woman with kind eyes and a sharp wit, kept the conversation lively, teasing the twins about their earlier antics in the fields. For a moment, Orion let himself get lost in the familiar comfort of it all—the sound of their siblings’ laughter, the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth, the taste of home-cooked food.

But even as he smiled and joined in the conversation, that feeling of unease remained, a quiet whisper at the back of his mind. It was as if the world outside Oakrest was calling to him, beckoning him to step beyond the village borders and see what lay beyond the hills.

Later that evening, after the day’s work was done and the sun had begun to set, Orion found himself drawn to the edge of the village, to a small stream that ran through the fields. The water was clear and cool, and he knelt by the bank, dipping his fingers into the stream. He watched as the ripples spread across the surface, distorting the reflection of the sky above.

This has always been his favorite spot, a place he could think and dream without interruption. The sound of the water was soothing, and the sight of the setting sun casting its last rays over the land filled them with a deep sense of peace.

But tonight, that peace was tinged with restlessness. He stared at the horizon, at the distant line where the sky met the earth, and wondered what lay beyond it. Stories of far-off lands, of great kingdoms and ancient mysteries, had always fascinated them, but they had never thought much of leaving Oakrest. This was their home, their family was here, and the life they led was a good one.

And yet, the world was changing. Even in their small village, there were whispers of unrest, of strange happenings in the neighboring kingdoms. Travelers who passed through Oakrest spoke of dark forces stirring in the shadows, of lords and kings vying for power as the old alliances crumbled. It was said that the Shattered Kingdoms were on the brink of war, that the peace that had held for so long was beginning to fracture.

Orion has always dismissed such talk as rumors, the kind of tales that travelers spun to entertain and frighten. But now, with the sun dipping below the horizon and the first stars appearing in the sky, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was truth to those stories. And if there was, what it meant for his village, for his family.

The sound of footsteps on the path behind him pulled Orion from his thoughts. He turned to see his father approaching, his silhouette dark against the fading light.

“Your mother was wondering where you’d gone off to,” he said, his voice gentle. “It’s almost time for supper.”

Orion nodded, standing and brushing the dirt from his hands. “I was just thinking, that’s all.”

Orion father joined him by the stream, looking out at the same horizon. He was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice filled with a quiet wisdom. “The world is a big place, Orion. Bigger than this village, bigger than Annan. It’s only natural to wonder what’s out there.”

Orion glanced at him, surprised. “You’ve thought about it too?”

His father smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “When I was your age, I had the same dreams. But life has a way of keeping you where you’re needed. Oakrest is our home, and there’s no shame in that.”

“No, there isn’t,” Orion agreed, though the restlessness in his heart didn’t ease. “But...”

His father placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Whatever happens, remember that your family will always be here for you. We’ll face whatever comes, together.”

Orion nodded, feeling a little of the unease lift. They turned back toward the village, where the warm glow of their home beckoned. Together, they walked back, the comforting sounds of the village welcoming them as they returned.

That night, as Orion lay in bed, listening to the gentle chirping of crickets outside their window, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the world was on the brink of change. It was a feeling that both excited and frightened them, a sense that the life they had always known was about to be swept away by forces far beyond their control.

And in the distance, beyond the hills and forests that surrounded Oakrest, a

storm was brewing, both in the sky and in the hearts of men.