The Lost Crown of Yunith

Prologue

The world is dying, and no one can agree why. Crops wither in the fields. Magic frays at the edges of civilization like a rope coming undone. The sun, once bright and constant, dims a little more with each passing season. Scholars argue in the High Council's halls. Priests pray to gods who do not answer. And in the Temple of Starfall, where the Crown of Yunith rested for a thousand years—a relic of the old kingdoms, a symbol of balance itself—there is now only silence and empty stone. Three moons ago, someone took it. No one knows who. No one knows why. But the theft has set something in motion—a cascade of decay that spreads faster than any plague. The Hollow Guard, once noble knights, now twisted by some corrupting influence, hunt anyone who asks too many questions. Creatures stir in places long forgotten. The very land seems to resist those who walk upon it. The High Council, fractious and desperate, has offered a substantial reward to any who can retrieve the crown. They do not care about the method. They do not care about the cost. They only know that without it, the world will not last another year. But as the hunt begins, whispers emerge from the darkness—whispers of a truth no one is prepared to face. The thief is not some distant villain. The thief is someone close. Someone trusted. And they stole the crown not out of malice, but out of a terrible, desperate belief that they were saving the world by taking it away. The real journey is about to begin.