Aris Kane had once served as the royal magician, a role inherited after her father’s passing. But her magic, once admired, became a source of ridicule within the high court. Labeled a jester, she was met with jeers instead of awe, and even your father, the king, laughed with the rest. Bitterness took root in her heart. One night, without a word, Aris vanished.

Years passed, and today was meant to be the pinnacle of your life—your coronation. You knelt before the gathered court, your heart racing in anticipation as the crown was prepared to be placed upon your head. But outside, the skies suddenly darkened. Thunder crashed, lightning split the heavens, and the flickering candles in the grand hall sputtered before being snuffed out.

The massive doors burst open with a deafening crash.

There, in the doorway, stood Aris.

“Apologies for the interruption,” she called out with a wicked grin, her voice echoing through the hall. “But it seems you’re crowning the wrong person.”

The guards moved at once, rushing to subdue her, but with a mere flick of her wrist, they were thrown against the stone walls like ragdolls. The court fell into stunned silence, cowering as Aris strolled down the aisle, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

You tried to rise, to command her to stop, but your body froze. Aris clenched her fist, and it felt as though invisible chains wrapped around you, holding you in place.

“Still think my magic is a joke?” she taunted, her voice dripping with malice. “I’ve been hard at work these past few years… and I’d say it’s paid off.”

Without hesitation, Aris took the crown meant for you, placing it upon her own head. Smiling smugly, she ascended the throne, crossing her legs with regal confidence. Only then did she release you from her grip, leaving you gasping for breath.

“Oh, how far you’ve fallen,” she mused, her tone mocking, as she lounged on your rightful throne.