Three days had passed since the fall of Nethoria.
Three days since the kingdom had burned.
Three days since Lothan lost everything.
Rain fell from a dark sky as smoke continued to rise from the ruins of the Demon Capital.
The once-proud city had become a graveyard.
Broken towers stood like silent monuments to a forgotten age.
Collapsed buildings filled the streets.
The laughter that had once echoed through the city was gone.
Only silence remained.
Lothan stood alone at the center of the ruins.
The rain soaked his silver hair and dark cloak.
Yet he did not move.
His crimson eyes stared at the remains of the royal palace.
The place where his family had lived.
The place where he had grown up.
The place where his world had ended.
A soft voice interrupted the silence.
"Prince Lothan."
He turned slowly.
Several surviving demons stood behind him.
Their clothes were torn.
Their faces showed exhaustion.
Among them was General Varis.
The old warrior looked years older than before.
"We've gathered the survivors."
"How many?" Lothan asked.
Varis lowered his head.
"Less than ten thousand."
The answer hit harder than any weapon.
Nethoria had once been home to millions.
Now only a fraction remained.
Lothan closed his eyes.
The loss was almost impossible to comprehend.
"So few..." he whispered.
Varis nodded.
"The others either fled or..."
He could not finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
Everyone understood.
Lothan looked toward the distant horizon.
The human armies had already returned to their kingdoms.
Celebrating what they considered a great victory.
Celebrating the destruction of an entire race.
His hands tightened into fists.
A dark feeling stirred within him.
A dangerous feeling.
Vengeance.
"Prince."
Varis stepped forward.
"What will we do now?"
Every survivor watched him.
Waiting.
Hoping.
They had lost their king.
Their queen.
Their homes.
The future of demonkind now rested on Lothan's shoulders.
For a long moment, he remained silent.
Then he spoke.
"We survive."
The survivors exchanged uncertain glances.
Lothan continued.
"We rebuild."
His voice grew firmer.
"We protect those who remain."
The demons listened carefully.
"But first..."
His crimson eyes hardened.
"We find the ones responsible."
A murmur spread through the crowd.
No one objected.
Many felt the same anger.
The same grief.
The same desire for justice.
Yet General Varis looked concerned.
"Revenge alone cannot save our people."
"I know."
Lothan's answer came immediately.
"But neither can forgiveness."
The old general fell silent.
Because part of him agreed.
Far away, within the Kingdom of Solaria, a celebration was underway.
Crowds filled the streets.
Banners waved proudly.
People cheered as soldiers returned from war.
Most had never seen a demon.
Most knew nothing about Nethoria.
They only knew what they had been told.
That demons were monsters.
That humanity had won a great victory.
That the world was safer now.
Inside the royal palace, however, the mood was very different.
The Hero stood before King Aldric.
The ruler of Solaria sat upon a golden throne.
Around him gathered nobles and military commanders.
Including Elias.
The Hero's expression was grim.
"This celebration should end."
Several nobles looked shocked.
King Aldric frowned.
"Why?"
The Hero's answer came immediately.
"Because we made a mistake."
Silence filled the chamber.
Elias narrowed his eyes.
"What exactly are you suggesting?"
The Hero met his gaze.
"The demons were not preparing for war."
Murmurs spread throughout the room.
"They lived peacefully."
"They welcomed diplomacy."
"They trusted us."
The Hero's voice grew heavier.
"And we betrayed them."
The king looked uncomfortable.
Elias stepped forward.
"You sound sympathetic."
"I sound honest."
The room became tense.
For the first time, someone had openly challenged the official story.
Elias smiled coldly.
"History cannot be changed."
"No."
The Hero nodded.
"But the consequences can."
His thoughts drifted to Lothan.
To the broken expression he had seen after the battle.
To the grief.
To the rage.
Something terrible was coming.
The Hero could feel it.
That same night, deep within the ruins of Nethoria, Lothan stood before the graves of his family.
Simple stone markers had been placed among the ashes.
Nothing grand.
Nothing royal.
Just enough to remember them.
The rain had finally stopped.
Moonlight illuminated the ruins.
Lothan knelt before the graves.
For the first time since the attack, he allowed himself to be vulnerable.
"I failed you."
His voice was barely a whisper.
The wind offered no reply.
"I should have protected you."
Silence.
His eyes lingered on the grave marked:
KAEL XANDER MAEVE
The cheerful prince.
The little brother who dreamed of becoming a hero.
Gone.
Next was:
QUEEN SERAPHINA
The woman who had always believed in him.
Gone.
Finally:
KING VALERIAN MAEVE
His father.
His teacher.
His king.
Gone.
Lothan lowered his head.
For several minutes, he said nothing.
Then he remembered his father's final words.
Do not forget who you are.
The memory hurt.
Because he no longer knew who he was.
A prince?
A survivor?
A protector?
Or something far darker?
Suddenly, a strange sensation spread through the air.
Lothan immediately stood.
Someone was nearby.
Powerful.
Very powerful.
A figure emerged from the darkness.
Covered in a black cloak.
Their face hidden beneath a hood.
Even Lothan couldn't identify them.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
The stranger stopped several meters away.
"I came to offer knowledge."
Lothan's eyes narrowed.
"I have no interest in riddles."
The figure chuckled.
"You should."
A cold wind swept through the ruins.
The stranger slowly raised one hand.
"Tell me, Lothan."
"Do you truly believe Elias acted alone?"
The question froze him in place.
"What?"
The hooded figure tilted their head.
"The destruction of Nethoria was only the beginning."
The air grew colder.
"There are forces moving in the shadows."
"Ancient forces."
"Forces that wanted this war."
Lothan felt his heartbeat quicken.
"What are you talking about?"
The stranger stepped backward.
Into the darkness.
"The answers you seek lie beyond the human kingdoms."
"Find them."
Before Lothan could react, the figure vanished.
Completely.
As if they had never existed.
Silence returned.
Lothan stared into the darkness.
His mind racing.
Could it be true?
Could someone else have been responsible?
Could there be a greater enemy hiding behind the war?
For the first time since Nethoria's fall, his thoughts turned away from revenge.
Toward something else.
The truth.
And somewhere in the darkness beyond the horizon, unseen eyes watched his every move.
The game had only just begun.
To be continued...