“The?mir as Grand Marshal of the Southern Legions,” Pirin proclaimed, reading out the sheet of parchment he’d had drafted up earlier. Then he stamped his signet ring into a seal of blue wax at the bottom. He passed the sheet over to Myraden, who waved it to dry before setting it down on the corner of the table.

  He sat at a desk in the center of the Summer Palace’s main hall, positioned a few feet in front of the blooming throne, and sifted through all the documents he’d had drafted up over the past few weeks—just waiting for his final assent.

  “Skell of Weavehome,” Pirin announced, “as Marshal of the Northern Legions.”

  The weaveling had survived the Battle of Northvel, and he was best suited to the task, with his extensive history and training. At first, Pirin had assumed Marshal Velbor wouldn’t be pleased—until the old Sirdian marshal made the recommendation himself.

  He stamped his signet into the wax as well, then leaned back in the seat. Important, necessary, but boring work that he’d left for too long.

  But then he pulled up the next page, skimmed what had been written, then held it up. “Are Alyus and Brealtod here?”

  A crowd of lords, advisors, retinue, and soldiers all gathered along the edges of the hall. Some, no doubt, were looking to gain favour or prestige, but Pirin ignored them. He’d already beckoned the marshals and major admirals forward to receive their new appointments, and they were the important ones—not the conniving noblemen and bureaucrats.

  But Alyus and Brealtod stepped forward, pushing to the front of the crowd, then knelt in front of the marshals.

  Pirin poured a glob of wax into the bottom corner of his next sheet of parchment, blew on it to dry it slightly, then stamped it with his signet ring. “You two are hereby pardoned for any past crimes committed against Sirdia, Aerdia, or the Dominion—whatever remains of it. This doesn’t apply to any future crimes, however I would like to offer you positions as official mail carriers of the New Khirdian court.”

  Alyus and Brealtod glanced at each other and whispered among themselves. The lords glared at the apparent display of rudeness, but it didn’t matter. As a Wildflame, Pirin could hear everything they said. They were just debating the merits of taking the position.

  Finally, Alyus said, “We’ll take the position, elfy. But we’d appreciate an extra hand, now that I suppose you won’t be flying with us.”

  “The dishonour!” a guard exclaimed. “Address your king with respect, ostal!”

  Pirin held up a hand and shook his head. “No need for pleasantries. Alyus is a friend. And yes, if he wishes, we can find a third crew member for his company.”

  Alyus smirked. “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure.” Pirin shifted the sheet to the edge of the table and pulled up a new sheet. “Ah, and that brings me to my next order of business. The Parliament Hall must be restored, and Representatives of the Common must be reelected immediately. I’ve outlined the procedures, but it should be a return to form. Old Khirdia benefitted from a thousand years of constitutional monarchy, and I will restore that.”

  As a Wildflame, he could do pretty much whatever he wanted. But he didn’t intend to rule with an iron fist. That hadn’t been Ivescent’s desire, and it certainly wasn’t what this nation needed.

  “Lastly,” Pirin said, “no Aerdian is to be punished for siding with the Dominion, and they are at this moment pardoned for past political crimes, or activities that would be illegal under Dominion rule, but not under Sirdian rule. There shall be no favour or mistreatment of citizens based on past allegiance, so long as they respect the law going forward.”

  He stamped one more wax seal in the corner of a long list of parchment outlining the process of the restoration of Khirdia, which he’d read in the past and had been previewed by the court during its drafting process. But this session was more ceremonial than anything, and no one needed him to read it out again.

  “With that, this session is adjourned.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Pirin walked down the center of Vel Aerdeil’s town square, passing through an alleyway of ceremonial guards in ancient Khirdian armour—ambersteel plates with magenta inlays and heavy cloaks. A light snow dusted the city, making the ancient paving stones beneath his boots slippery, but he stepped carefully.

  He’d donned his ornate leather armour for the proper coronation ceremony, with a thick magenta gambeson beneath to keep himself warm in the mid-winter wind. It wasn’t perfect, but Gray blocked out most of the gusts as she walked along behind him.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Behind the soldiers stood tightly-packed crowds of onlookers. Elven civilians—mainly Aerdians, but a number of Sirdian workers had migrated south to help rebuild—stood shoulder to shoulder.

  Pirin approached the center of the square, where a statue of Hir Venias overlooked the entire square. At its base, on the raised mount of white limestone beneath its pedestal, stood a cluster of marshals, mortal lords, and Myraden and Kythen. Marshal Velbor stood at the very front, with a wooden chest in his hands.

  Pirin stopped before Velbor and knelt, as they discussed before. Velbor opened the chest and removed a circlet of woven amber strands, then held it up to the sky. He turned to the north and said, “To the Farlands, I present King Pirin I of Khirdia.” He turned to the west. “To the Greanemark, I present King Pirin I of Khirdia.” Then, to the east. “To Aerd, I present King Pirin I of Khirdia.” Finally, south. “To Meras, I present King Pirin I of Khirdia.”

  Though Pirin’s history was hazy, his recollection was that Hir Venias, first King of Khirdia, had united four disparate kingdoms into one nation. The old rites remained, the kingdoms were mentioned by name.

  Slowly, Marshal Velbor placed the crown down on Pirin’s head. Pirin rose to his feet, then turned to face the crowd.

  He drew Nynhar from its sheath and held it up to the sky, letting the light glint off the blade’s fuller and the cracks in it. He kept the Charge active, and the mould-lines of Ichor-steel still remained invisible, giving the blade a permanently cracked appearance. For extra effect, he channeled his Reign, making the blade glint, and almost glow.

  Gray spread her wings and rose up, and all the other soldiers drew swords and pointed them straight up in a salute. Myraden formed her spear into a solid length and joined them.

  “Let Khirdia now be restored!” Pirin shouted. “We are brothers and sisters again, and the Dominion collapses as we speak. Victory!”

  The crowd erupted in cheers and joyful shouts, and Pirin let a soft smile slip. There would still be work to do, but the hard part was done. He was a wizard-king.

  ~ ~ ~

  Pirin and Myraden walked through the edge of Vel Aerdeil’s public gardens. If this was to be his capital, then it’d only make sense to keep his wizard school here.

  Of course, they couldn’t bulldoze the gardens, but beside it was one of the Dominion’s old flak-catapult castles, and at its base was a broad garrison. A swath of the old city had been cleared to make way for barracks and other military buildings, but with the Dominion out, there was no need for it any longer.

  Pirin stopped at the edge of a leafless hedge and pointed at the brutalistic military complex. “We’ll tear it down,” he said. “And this will be where we build our academy. I’m sure there will be plenty of artisans and masons in need of work, or just in the city and looking for some extra pay.”

  He extended his senses and pressed his hand into the ground. He hadn’t felt it before, but now, as a Wildflame, he sensed a lingering weakness, an ashy, diminished flavour to the Eane here.

  It was coming back now that the Summer Throne was blooming, but the curse wouldn’t lift instantly. It’d take constant work and constant effort, and the land might never be the same. With weak channels and aura fields, it would be possible that they’d be seeing a lot more Embercores.

  But that wasn’t the curse it used to be.

  “Come,” Myraden said, beckoning him with a wave of her hand. She had a hop in her step, and her lips curled up in a smile. “I have something to show you.”

  They’d talked about this spot before, and Pirin had suggested the old Dominion garrison as a place to build their academy many times. She must have been planning this for a while, and now that they finally had a free moment to scout it out…

  Pirin raised his eyebrows, then he and Gray chased after. What do you think she has? Gray asked.

  They turned back into the hedge maze and took a few turns, then arrived at a central fountain, which only burbled slowly in the wintertime.

  “I sure hope it’s not people,” Pirin said. “We’d have kept them waiting…for…a while…”

  As soon as Pirin sensed their presences, he trailed off. Eight young elves, only seventeen or eighteen season-cycles, stepped out from behind the fountain. They exerted the spiritual pressure of Kindling-stage wizards, but they had no Familiars.

  “I present you,” Myraden said, motioning toward the elves, “your first batch of students.”

  Pirin swallowed, then took a step forward. “Apologies for keeping you waiting.”

  All eight of them bowed at their waist, and a few said, “My lord, please provide us instruction.”

  “They are all Embercores,” Myraden said. “No one noticed them at their Reyad-forming ceremonies; they did not form Reyads. However, they are all willing to learn. On the very left side is Marshal The?mir’s daughter.”

  Pirin nodded. “It is a pleasure to meet you all. Now…” He snorted, then blew out a puff of steam. “...I suppose we have time. Let’s see…you caught me off-guard a little bit, but I think I can come up with a first lesson as we plan our academy, don’t you think? Come on, let’s go for a walk, and we’ll figure out where you guys are at. Please don’t be scared. I was once in your position. Know this: it is no shame to be an Embercore. Yes, you are weaker, but you can turn that to your advantage. In time, you’ll all be able to do things no other wizard can.”

  The End

  Author's note: Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! This was a super enjoyable story to write, and I'm eternally thankful for anyone who made it to the end. I know it might not be the most marketable story, but it was still a blast to write.

  If you'd like, I've linked my discord server down in the box below. I've got another story that's almost ready to be posted (it's going to be an alchemist/magic academy story). I'll drop an update chapter here, but if you want more instant updates, you can join my discord server for announcements.

  As for the future of this story, I'll be slowly stubbing the rest of the volumes and moving it to Amazon in a few months, but there's still plenty of time to read and catch up. If you want, I've completely edited and revised some elements of the first volume, and it's now available on amazon. Or, if you just want to support the story/me as an author, a rating/review on the amazon listing would help a ton. (I'll also leave a link below.)

  Lastly, I've added a link to my current story (a space-fantasy litrpg), which you can read all 2 volumes of on royal road right now.

  Again, thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

  https://discord.gg/kp3Wt5CmmE

  https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0DRW2CBCX

  https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/91190/hyperspace-hunter-isekai-litrpg-deckbuilding-scifi