I was not home.
The scorched earth told me that much.
Something had come. Not with fire or fury—just silence and power, like it had been waiting.
The past was returning.
Our world was in danger.
I was the heir. And when my father died, I became emperor of the North. But the throne wasn’t empty. Someone else was waiting—someone not ready to let it go.
I had no gift. No mark.
Just the legacy etched into my bones, and the training they began the moment I could stand.
And now?
Now the world is watching to see if that’s enough.
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