Chapter 138: The Forgotten Queen

Afternoon light filtered through the transparent ice dome above the Frozen Palace, casting pale blue reflections across the throne chamber.

Rhaevia stood before the dark crystalline throne, watching the silver veins beneath its surface gradually dim. Whatever presence had awakened beneath the palace had retreated into silence, but she could still feel its attention lingering at the edge of her consciousness.

It had recognized her.

Yet it had not welcomed her.

“Project Genesis, analyze the throne’s remaining energy signature,” she ordered, keeping her eyes fixed on the darkening crystal.

The familiar interface flared into life before her eyes.

[ANALYSIS INITIATED.]

[ANCIENT AUTHORITY SIGNATURE: PARTIALLY RECOVERED.]

[IDENTITY RECORD: SEALED.]

[HISTORICAL ARCHIVE: ACCESS DENIED.]

Rhaevia frowned, her breath rising in a faint white mist. “Access denied by whom?”

No response followed. The artificial intelligence remained stubbornly silent, leaving only the soft sound of the dome’s temperature regulators.

Raevor stood several steps behind her, scanning the chamber’s perimeter. His hand rested lightly on the pommel of his blade, his silver eyes lingering on the seven crystalline pillars surrounding the throne.

“Someone went to considerable effort to preserve this place,” he observed, his deep voice carrying clearly in the vast hall.

“The structure has no visible deterioration despite its age, and its defenses remain partially functional. Whatever happened here, the former occupant was important enough to justify extraordinary protection.”

“Or dangerous enough to require extraordinary containment,” Rhaevia replied softly, her gaze shifting to the base of the dais.

He glanced at her, a subtle edge of concern entering his posture. “You believe the throne was sealed deliberately?”

“I believe nothing about this place is accidental.”

Rhaevia turned toward the celestial symbols revolving beneath the dome. The star map had stopped moving, leaving seven unfamiliar constellations suspended in the air like frozen dust.

Several were marked with ancient authorization seals, while another displayed a sequence of symbols resembling the records they had discovered beneath the Ocean Planet.

She extended her hand toward the nearest pillar.

Golden energy flowed from her fingertips, bridging the gap and soaking into the ancient stone.

The palace responded immediately. A low, resonant vibration passed through the chamber, vibrating straight through the soles of their boots. The celestial map dissolved into thousands of luminous fragments, which gathered above the throne and formed a new projection.

[SECONDARY HISTORICAL ARCHIVE DETECTED.]

[AUTHORIZATION: SOVEREIGN GUIDE.]

[ACCESS GRANTED.]

The projection shifted into a corridor lined with silver crystal.

“Another section of the palace,” Raevor said, taking a swift step forward to align himself beside her.

“An archive, judging by the energy signatures,” she murmured, adjusting her coat.

Rhaevia moved toward the newly revealed passage. Raevor followed without hesitation, maintaining a careful distance behind her as the corridor opened into a circular gallery.

Unlike the throne chamber, this room contained no weapons or defensive mechanisms. Instead, transparent cases lined the walls, each holding ancient objects preserved behind layers of protective energy.

There were ceremonial garments, metallic ornaments, fragments of crystalline tablets, and delicate instruments whose functions remained unknown. At the center of the gallery stood a long pedestal surrounded by suspended holographic records.

Rhaevia approached the nearest display, letting her hand linger over the primary sensor.

An ancient document appeared beneath her hand, its script flickering into readable High Imperial.

[HISTORICAL RECORD: ROYAL SUCCESSION.]

[SUBJECT: FORMER SOVEREIGN AUTHORITY.]

[STATUS: DISAPPEARED BEFORE THE SOVEREIGN WAR.]

Her expression sharpened instantly.

“Before the war?” she whispered.

Raevor joined her beside the pedestal, his shoulder nearly touching hers as he scanned the data streams. “That would place this ruler’s disappearance before the conflict recorded in the underwater archive.”

“Which means the throne may have belonged to someone who vanished before the alliance between my former self and the Third Sovereign was established,” Rhaevia said, her mind piecing together the timeline.

She opened the full record, sweeping her fingers across the light panel.

The display revealed fragments of ancient political documents, diplomatic correspondence, and reports concerning the ruler’s final days. The text was incomplete, corrupted by centuries of static, but several details remained readable.

The ruler had governed an extensive collection of civilizations under an authority distinct from Rhaevia’s own. Her territory had included several of the forbidden worlds, as well as the frozen planet they now occupied.

Then, without warning, all communication from the ruler’s central palace had ceased.

No invasion had been recorded.

No formal abdication had been declared.

No successor had been officially recognized.

The throne had simply become vacant.

Rhaevia read the final surviving entry aloud, her voice ringing clear against the crystalline display. “‘The sovereign authority has withdrawn from all recognized channels. All attempts at contact have failed. The throne remains active, but its rightful occupant cannot be located.'”

Raevor’s expression grew grave as he looked over the dark pedestal. “An entire political authority disappeared without leaving evidence of its destruction.”

“Or someone made certain that no evidence survived,” Rhaevia corrected coldly.

She continued examining the records, pulling up secondary files.

One document referred to an emergency evacuation of the palace’s inner chambers. Another described the transfer of unidentified artifacts to distant locations. A third contained a warning instructing future custodians never to activate the throne without the former ruler’s authorization.

Yet none revealed the ruler’s name.

Every reference had been systematically removed, stripped from the data banks with surgical accuracy.

Rhaevia felt a familiar frustration settle in her chest. Again, she had found evidence of an ancient catastrophe, only to discover that its most important details had been deliberately hidden from history.

“Project Genesis, recover the ruler’s identity from the remaining records,” she commanded sharply.

[IDENTITY RECOVERY: IN PROGRESS.]

[CROSS-REFERENCE: ANCIENT SOVEREIGN ARCHIVES.]

[RESULT: INSUFFICIENT DATA.]

A faint, crystalline sound echoed through the gallery, like glass striking glass.

Rhaevia turned toward the noise, her Guide energy flaring defensively around her fingertips.

At the far end of the chamber, a previously darkened crystal panel had begun to glow. The light spread slowly across its surface, revealing a tall figure dressed in ceremonial robes.

A woman.

Her face remained obscured by layers of encrypted data, but her silhouette was unmistakably regal. A crown of slender crystalline points rested upon her head, and one hand held a dark staff bearing the same emblem engraved upon the frozen throne.

Rhaevia approached the panel, stepping around the central pedestal. “Can you restore the image?”

[PRESERVED VISUAL RECORD DETECTED.]

[IDENTITY ENCRYPTION: PARTIALLY RESTORED.]

[ARCHIVAL PROJECTION: ACTIVATING.]

The encryption dissolved into a cloud of fading pixels.

The woman’s face emerged in astonishing detail, captured in static light.

Rhaevia froze mid-step, her breath catching in her throat.

Silver hair fell over the ruler’s shoulders, framing delicate features and striking crimson eyes. Her expression carried the quiet confidence of someone accustomed to commanding entire civilizations without raising her voice.

Rhaevia knew those eyes.

She had seen them in the Sovereign War records beneath the Ocean Planet. She had seen them in the projection of the woman who once stood beside her ancient self as an ally.

The Third Sovereign.

Raevor stepped closer, his face tightening as he recognized the resemblance. “That is impossible,” he murmured, his hand dropping closer to his weapon.

The preserved portrait flickered once, revealing a final inscription beneath the woman’s image.

[FORMER SOVEREIGN IDENTITY: SEALED.]

[THRONE OWNERSHIP: CONFIRMED.]

[LAST VERIFIED PRESENCE: BEFORE THE SOVEREIGN WAR.]

Rhaevia stared at the portrait, her golden resonance stirring uneasily beneath her skin.

The Third Sovereign had once been her ally during the ancient conflict.

Now she had discovered that a nearly identical woman had possessed another Sovereign throne long before their war began.

Was the portrait merely a startling resemblance?

Or had the woman threatening Rhaevia’s kingdom once ruled this frozen palace under another name?

Before she could investigate further, the dark throne pulsed somewhere beyond the gallery, sending a shockwave of frigid energy through the floorboards.

A cold, echo-laden voice entered her consciousness, slicing through her Guide barriers effortlessly.

“You should not have uncovered her face.”

The portrait went dark.

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