That evening, Bramir led Saelar—no longer Myrelion—through hidden corridors to a chamber lit with blue fire and guarded by knights bearing the sigils of fallen noble houses.
Inside, cloaked nobles waited: House Elarwyn of the Sapphire Vale, House Mythenas of the Eastwing Coast, and House Drakar of the Southern Peaks.
These were the last of the Velgaeron Loyalists.
Each noble stepped forward, knelt, and pledged allegiance.
> "To the blood of Virelya, to the heir of fire and fate. We stand ready, my Prince."
Then Bramir unfurled two golden scrolls bearing seals from faraway kingdoms: The Kingdom of Avareth and The Dominion of Scaria.
> "These are your mother's final political maneuvers. The princesses of these nations await your decision. Their fathers await your signal. You marry them… and you gain over 200,000 soldiers and the naval support to challenge the Empire."
Saelar stood before the ancient map of Elythara, once ruled by his bloodline. The fire within his chest—the Dracovita—beat in rhythm with Solaryth, who roared above the castle.
"I will take back what was stolen," he whispered. "For my mother. For my father. For the throne."
And as the nobles raised their glasses, a storm began to gather beyond the mountains.
The Crowned Serpent was awakening.
And the Empire would remember the name Saelar Velgaeron.