Relics of the Gods

The chair in the deepest part of the royal palace at Ironcastle. Its backrest is woven from threads of the finest ancient script, like a breathing cloth that glows faintly silver on its own. Whoever sits upon it is called King.

On the inner side of the old King's breastbone grew a black, curved, tooth-like thing, half of it pushing out through flesh. It glows faintly silver — exactly the same glow as the Throne's backrest.

On the old King's tongue, a character had grown from the flesh. Not written, not carved — grown. An old scroll records: the first glyph appears upon a man's tongue, grows within his bone, and the King dies.

An old law no one likes to speak of: when the Throne calls a person's name, it calls three times. For the first two, family may answer in his place — 'he is not here'. The third time, he must answer himself.