The Lost King’s Legacy

The crystalline soldiers stirred fully, their limbs moving with eerie precision. Each step they took sent faint tremors through the frost-laden floor. Their swords, long and glinting with a blend of steel and shimmering crystal, emerged soundlessly from their sides. The blades hummed faintly, radiating a soft, pale glow.

One construct stepped forward, its glowing eyes narrowing as its head tilted with mechanical deliberation. Its voice, low and resonant, filled the hall like a vibration that reverberated through the walls: "Tal'raen ven'var. S'henal vas elar." (State your purpose. You are prohibited here.)

The Riders froze. Astrid instinctively reached for her axe, while Snotlout whispered, "Oh, great. Creepy ice knights with swords. Just what we needed."

Hiccup raised a calming hand, his voice steady. "Wait—let's not provoke them." He glanced at Lyra, his eyes urging her forward. "They seem more… aware. Maybe they'll listen."

Lyra stepped past him with measured calm, her posture regal yet approachable. Her gaze met the glowing eyes of the construct. "Siel'ra Lyra Celestia," (I am Lyra Celestia,) she said, her voice steady and clear, echoing through the frozen hall. "Vera'ra Nyx Aetherion, Queen'thar Aether." ("Wife of Nyx Aetherion, Queen of Aether.)

The construct paused, its blade lowering slightly as its crystalline eyes flared brighter, scanning her with a beam of faint blue light. The beam traveled over her figure, focusing on the ring she wore—a symbol of her bond to Nyx. The construct tilted its head again, the glow from its eyes dimming.

Then, almost as if in response to her declaration, the construct stepped back, lowering its sword fully. "Siel'ra vin'var: Lyra Celestia, Queen'thar Aether," (Identity confirmed: Lyra Celestia, Queen of Aether,) it announced in its resonant tone. "Vas'thar" (Proceed)

The other constructs followed suit, their swords returning to their sides as they retreated to their original positions. With a sound like ice groaning under pressure, the grand door began to shift. Runes flared to life across its surface, lighting up in cascading patterns before the massive panels swung open, revealing the chamber beyond.

Lyra exhaled slowly, a faint tension leaving her shoulders. She turned back to the group with a small smile. "Well, that was… something."

Snotlout snorted. "Yeah, 'something' is one word for it. I'd say terrifying works better."

"Terrifying and fascinating," Fishlegs said, his gaze darting between the constructs and his notebook. "The intelligence of these guardians is incredible—completely autonomous yet loyal to their protocols. Imagine if we had something like this back in Berk!"

Astrid shook her head, her grip on her axe loosening. "Let's focus on why they're here in the first place. They don't seem like they were meant to greet visitors with open arms."

Lyra frowned, her gaze lingering on the now-dormant constructs. "They shouldn't be active at all," she murmured, more to herself than the group. "These guardians only activate when Nyx isn't in the palace. But the attack on Aether happened too suddenly… perhaps Lord Caine—Nyx's uncle—activated them as a failsafe to ensure no one could access this room."

Hiccup's brow furrowed. "Lord Caine? Do you think he anticipated someone would come here?"

Lyra gave a small, uncertain shrug. "It's possible. Caine was brilliant, always thinking ten steps ahead. He would've wanted to protect whatever was left of the kingdom—even from me, if he thought it necessary."

The group exchanged glances, the weight of the revelation settling heavily. "Well," Astrid said, breaking the silence, "if the door's open, let's see what's inside."

The chamber beyond the grand door was a striking contrast to the frozen, desolate halls outside. Here, the frost was subdued, clinging only to the edges of the room, as though even the cold respected the sanctity of this space. The light from crystalline chandeliers refracted into faint rainbows, casting soft, shifting hues onto the walls. High, vaulted ceilings arched overhead, their blackened silver ribs gleaming faintly beneath the layers of frost.

The chamber beyond the grand door was a striking contrast to the frozen, desolate halls outside. Here, the frost was subdued, clinging only to the edges of the room, as though even the cold respected the sanctity of this space. The light from crystalline chandeliers refracted into faint rainbows, casting soft, shifting hues onto the walls. High, vaulted ceilings arched overhead, their blackened silver ribs gleaming faintly beneath the layers of frost.

The centerpiece of the room was a grand table carved from a single piece of obsidian-black stone. Its surface was adorned with intricate runes that glowed with a faint golden light, pulsing rhythmically like a heartbeat. The table seemed alive, radiating an aura of quiet strength.

To one side, a large canopy bed stood against the wall. Its frame was forged from black metal veined with silver and gold filigree, intricate patterns intertwining like constellations. The blankets were a deep, royal blue, edged with golden embroidery that shimmered even under the faint light. Remarkably, they appeared untouched, as though someone had smoothed them down only moments ago.

Against another wall stood shelves laden with books, scrolls, and artifacts. Some items were pristine, their surfaces gleaming as if freshly polished, while others bore the weight of time—edges crumbling, covers warped by age. A few golden trinkets reflected the soft light, hinting at their once-prized significance. Among the artifacts, an ornate quill rested in a crystal inkwell, its feather dyed a deep crimson.

"This place feels… alive," Astrid murmured, her voice reverent as her eyes traced the patterns on the ceiling. "It's like time stopped here but didn't forget what it was protecting."

Hiccup glanced around, his gaze catching on the golden accents woven into the walls' black and silver designs. "It's more than just a room," he said thoughtfully. "It feels… personal, like every detail was chosen for a reason."

"Okay, I hate to admit it," Snotlout muttered, running a hand over a frost-covered chair. Its back was carved into the shape of a dragon's wings, lined with silver and gold accents. "But this place is kinda… cool. In, like, a ridiculously fancy way."

Ruffnut peered into one of the shelves, her fingers brushing over a small, golden statuette of a dragon mid-flight. "It's like a treasure chest," she said with a grin. "You know, if treasure chests were the size of castles."

Tuffnut nodded sagely. "A treasure chest of secrets. Ancient secrets. Forbidden secrets. Maybe even cursed secrets."

Astrid shot them a sharp look. "It's a room, not a booby trap. Try not to break anything."

"I'm not promising anything," Tuffnut replied, picking up a golden orb and squinting at the runes etched into its surface. "This thing looks like it could summon a ghost."

Lyra walked past them, her steps slow as her eyes scanned the room. Every corner held memories, stirring emotions she had tucked away for centuries. Her gaze caught on something resting at the table's center. A folded piece of parchment lay there, untouched by frost, its edges crisp as though it had been placed recently. Beside it rested a small crystal band, no larger than a bracelet, its surface shimmering faintly with embedded runes that pulsed gently, like the glow of embers in a dying fire.

But before she could reach for it, her eyes were drawn to a large portrait mounted on the wall behind the table. The painting was framed in polished black metal laced with golden filigree, the intricate border glowing faintly in the light. The scene depicted was vibrant and alive, standing in stark contrast to the frozen stillness of the room.

The portrait showed a young boy with golden eyes and dark hair—Nyx. He sat atop Chaos, a smaller, less intimidating version of the mighty dragon they all knew. Chaos's scales gleamed with a youthful vibrancy, its molten-gold eyes filled with curiosity rather than ferocity. Flanking Nyx were two regal figures, a man and a woman, their faces radiating warmth and pride. The man's silver hair shimmered like starlight, his posture commanding yet kind, while the woman's auburn locks cascaded around her shoulders, her smile soft and genuine.

The backdrop was a lively scene of a festival, dragons and people celebrating together under colorful banners and glowing lanterns. The joy on their faces was palpable, a snapshot of a life filled with harmony and happiness.

The Riders stopped, their attention drawn to the portrait. "That's…" Fishlegs started, his voice filled with wonder.

"Nyx," Astrid finished, her tone softer than usual.

"And Chaos," Hiccup added, taking a step closer to study the painting. "But… younger. He almost looks… playful."

Lyra approached the portrait, her gaze fixed on the boy's bright eyes. Her lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. "That was the Dragon Festival," she said quietly. "A celebration of the bond between humans and dragons."

Astrid's eyes lingered on the couple in the portrait. "Are those… his parents?"

Lyra nodded, her voice tinged with emotion. "King Aldrin and Queen Selene, They were… everything to Nyx. And to Aether."

Ruffnut tilted her head, squinting at the painting. "So, they just threw a big dragon party every year? That sounds like our kind of event."

Tuffnut grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah, where do we sign up for this? Dragons, fireworks, feasts—it's got everything!"

Astrid shook her head, though her lips twitched with a smile. "You two would find a way to get banned from it within an hour."

"Banned with style," Tuffnut retorted, puffing out his chest.

Snotlout, however, was uncharacteristically quiet as he stared at the portrait. "I guess… he was just a kid once, huh?" His voice was softer than usual, almost contemplative.

Lyra turned to him, her smile growing faintly sad. "He was. For a little while."

The group stood in silence for a moment, the vibrant warmth of the painting contrasting sharply with the cold reality around them.

Finally, Lyra tore her gaze away and turned back to the table. She reached out, her movements reverent, and picked up the parchment. She unfolded it carefully. The elegant script within was familiar, each stroke of the ink carrying a weight that seemed to echo in the room.

"What is it?" Hiccup asked, stepping closer. His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if afraid to disturb the stillness.

Lyra's voice was tinged with emotion as she read aloud:

"To my nephew Nyx,

The events of that day were not your fault. You must never blame yourself for the disaster that befell Aether. You saved every life in this kingdom with your courage and sacrifice. That is a legacy to be proud of, not a burden to carry. Remember who you are, Nyx—an Aetherion, a protector of life, and my pride as your uncle. If you ever find this note, know that I believed in you, and I always will.

— Your Uncle Caine"

The room fell silent, the weight of the words settling heavily over the group. Even the faint hum of the runes seemed to still, as if the room itself were honoring the memory conveyed in the note.

Astrid crossed her arms, her expression thoughtful. "Sounds like his uncle cared about him a lot."

Lyra nodded slowly, her fingers brushing over the parchment as if to etch the words into her memory. "Caine was more than Nyx's uncle—he was his mentor, his confidant. Nyx respected him deeply."

Hiccup placed a hand on Lyra's shoulder, his gaze steady. "It sounds like he wanted Nyx to remember that. To hold onto it."

Lyra offered a faint smile, though her eyes remained clouded with thought. "Yes. He knew how heavy Nyx's burdens were."

Her attention shifted to the small crystal band beside the note. Its intricate design caught the light, the embedded runes glowing faintly as though responding to her presence. Carefully, she picked it up, the weight of the object feeling strangely significant in her hand.

"That's beautiful," Astrid said, leaning closer. "What is it?"

"An advanced Runic Communicator," Lyra explained softly, her voice tinged with awe. "Far more sophisticated than the ones we regularly used in Aether. If it still works…" She trailed off, her expression a mix of hope and uncertainty.

As she turned the band over, she noticed another small folded note beneath it. Unfolding it, she froze, her breath hitching. The words were simple, but they carried a profound weight:

"For Lyra, my life partner.

—Nyx"

Her hands trembled slightly as she stared at the words, a faint shimmer of tears forming in her eyes. For a moment, she said nothing, her emotions too raw to articulate.

"What's that?" Fishlegs asked gently, his curiosity tempered by the obvious significance of the note.

Lyra cleared her throat, tucking the parchment carefully away. "It's… personal," she said softly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "A gift from Nyx."

The group exchanged glances but didn't press her further.

Lyra lifted the crystal band, its intricate runes catching the light in mesmerizing patterns. "If this still works," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else, "it'll be a way to stay connected."

Hiccup stepped closer, his tone encouraging. "Then let's see if we can bring it back to life."

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Lyra felt a flicker of warmth pierce through the cold weight of the past. With the communicator in her hands and the group beside her, the isolation she had carried for so long didn't feel quite so heavy anymore.