Representatives from different clans gathered that morning at the Temple of Thernys. The structure rose from pale stone, its towering pillars carved with ancient runes of balance and judgment. Open arches surrounded the circular courtyard, allowing the mountain wind to pass through in long, quiet breaths.
At the center of the temple stood the Throne of Justice—carved from crystal-white stone, placed upon a raised circular platform. Around it, the rulers and warriors of the realms stood in their designated sections. Banners of Arkan, Seven Gates, Thernys, Hellenic, and Lynidor hung between the pillars, shifting slowly in the cold air.
Upon the throne sat Gorika.
Behind her, in silent vigilance, stood Yakubo, his eyes observing every movement within the temple.
For the first time in years, Gorika looked relieved. This gathering would finally allow her to step down from rule. She had not inherited the throne—she had earned it, rising to power after defeating the Blooddrainers in war.
Gorika slowly rose from her seat.
Instead of speaking, she stepped down from the platform and walked toward the inner sanctum of the temple. At its heart stood the statue of Wanzha—the ancient guardian of balance, carved from a single block of silver-white stone. Before it rested a massive ceremonial lamp, dark and unlit.
The entire temple fell silent.
Gorika took the torch from a waiting priest and lit the Great Lamp.
Flame rose slowly—steady and bright.
The golden light spread across the pillars, reflecting across the throne and the gathered realms.
"This flame," Gorika said quietly, "will burn until the new ruler is chosen."
No one moved.
She then closed her hands and pressed them against her chest in devotion, bowing her head before Wanzha. The firelight reflected in her eyes as she remained still for a moment, honoring the ritual.
Then she turned.
She walked back toward the Throne of Justice and ascended the platform once more.
A deep drum sounded.
Once.
Then again.
The echoes rolled across the temple, vibrating through the stone. Even the wind seemed to pause.
Gorika stood tall.
"Lords and rulers of the realms," she began, her voice carrying through the temple. "I, Queen Gorika, welcome all worthy challengers to the Throne."
A murmur passed through the gathered warriors.
"I am prepared to step down."
Silence followed.
"Those who prove themselves in this tournament will face me in single combat. If you defeat me… the throne is yours."
The tension in the air sharpened.
"The contenders are Arkan, Seven Gates, Lynidor, Hellenic, and Thernys."
She lifted her hand slightly.
"You will train within these sacred grounds for one month. After that, the tournament will begin."
Her gaze moved across the gathered realms.
"Let the worthy rise."