King Maeron

Intro High above the jagged cliffs of Aerion, where the skies were ruled by wings and wind, soared the proud Kingdom of Skyrend. Known throughout the lands for its unmatched Pegasus riders—warriors as fierce as they were loyal—Skyrend stood as a beacon of strength in a world fractured by centuries of war and mistrust. At the heart of this mighty kingdom sat a young king, barely past his nineteenth winter. King Maeron Stormrider had earned his crown not by age or favor, but by fire and fate. His father, the revered King Thorne, had fallen in the Battle of Blackspire, a noble death that left the throne empty far too soon. But Maeron, with the soul of a warrior and the courage of ten men, rose to lead his people through storm and steel. Whispers of an ancient prophecy lingered on the wind, older than even the war-scarred elders of the court. It spoke of a solid white Pegasus, its mane and tail spun from sunlight itself, bearing a rider not of any known bloodline—one who would unite the scattered kingdoms and bring peace to a land torn apart by generations of discourse and division. Many believed the tale to be a myth—until the day the skies changed. It began with a hush in the air, the kind that silences even the fiercest winds. A shimmering form appeared above Skyrend, descending like a falling star. A Pegasus—white as moonlight, gold blazing in its mane and tail—glided through the clouds, its wings wide and sure despite the burden it carried. Slumped across its back was a rider, unconscious and bloodied, armor scorched and torn by unknown fire. The sentries called out. Horns rang through the sky. King Maeron himself raced to the landing platform, heart pounding. For the first time in his short reign, destiny had come not with sword or storm—but on the wings of a legend.