The Aggrid Kingdom is forged from a rare golden-black stone mined at the cost of countless lives and King Darious has no intention of slowing its expansion. When a mining catastrophe kills hundreds, the king publicly promises mercy, only to burn the survivors alive as an example.
His children embody different paths to power. Prince Lyon, a brilliant tactician haunted by guilt, and Princess Diabella, a ruthless visionary who believes fear is the only stable currency of rule.
Beyond the capital, the kingdom's violence sparks a multi-front rebellion. Evalyne, a hardened huntress, returns home to find her village in ashes and her family taken by the crown. As she ventures into forbidden lands for answers, she is plagued by visions that blur prophecy, memory, and manipulation. Meanwhile, Gabriel, a young farmer and guardsman, witnesses his neighbouring town seized under royal decree. While chasing the captors, he uncovers King Darious's true ambition: an indestructible empire fueled by Aggrid and enforced by a hidden army. When a close friend disappears into Princess Diabella’s inner circle.
Whispers spread of an ancient assassin that slaughters entire villages without leaving a trace, the kingdom’s control begins to fracture.
The Aggrid Kingdom is forged from a rare golden-black stone mined at the cost of countless lives and King Darious has no intention of slowing its expansion. When a mining catastrophe kills hundreds, the king publicly promises mercy, only to burn the survivors alive as an example.
His children embody different paths to power. Prince Lyon, a brilliant tactician haunted by guilt, and Princess Diabella, a ruthless visionary who believes fear is the only stable currency of rule.
Beyond the capital, the kingdom's violence sparks a multi-front rebellion. Evalyne, a hardened huntress, returns home to find her village in ashes and her family taken by the crown. As she ventures into forbidden lands for answers, she is plagued by visions that blur prophecy, memory, and manipulation. Meanwhile, Gabriel, a young farmer and guardsman, witnesses his neighbouring town seized under royal decree. While chasing the captors, he uncovers King Darious's true ambition: an indestructible empire fueled by Aggrid and enforced by a hidden army. When a close friend disappears into Princess Diabella’s inner circle.
Whispers spread of an ancient assassin that slaughters entire villages without leaving a trace, the kingdom’s control begins to fracture.
-Prologue-
The Golden-Black Crown
Calm, quiet, and profoundly peaceful. The sun rose against an endless, beautiful blue sky, and a gentle autumn breeze carried fallen leaves along an invisible, drifting current. The kingdom slowly woke to melodious birdsong, deer grazing gracefully across the open plains, and wildlife stirring throughout the dense forests. In the distance, bathed beneath the bright orange sun, stood the Aggrid Kingdom. A beautiful realm stretching from the jagged, treacherous and frigid lands of the dark mountains to the lost islands of the southern sea. In between, sprawling villages habited the lands from coast to coast. In the middle of these lands, a vibrant capital city tiered in three magnificent levels against the rugged base of the Aggrid Mountain.
The third tier was built entirely from polished stone and marble, laced intricately with gold and another mysterious material known as Aggrid. Rare and precious, Aggrid was a unique golden-black granite that gave the city’s fortresses, and even the royal armour their distinct imposing appearance.
Generations of kings had commissioned the realms most talented smiths, designers, and master engineers to construct the capital city and castle in such a precise way that fresh water could flow freely from the snowy top of the mountain, down through the main aqueducts, irrigation routes, and directly into the hands of the waiting townsfolk.
Even with the best minds, both well-hired and brutally forced, planning the complex design and construction was at times perilous, and obtaining the aggrid was never easy. It had to be mined from the rear eastern base of the jagged mountain, shipped around to the bustling Great Bridge port, lifted by massive pulleys, and transported into the main city streets. In its raw, unrefined form, its immense weight allowed only small quantities to be moved at a time.
The location of the aggrid brought its own perilous obstacles. Buried deep in the heart of the mountain, the mines were filled with deadly hazards. Active sputtering lava spouts, toxic pockets of methane gas, terrifying creatures lurked in the shadows below, and along with the psychological tricks a man’s own mind could play on him. Brave miners were lost daily to the brutal conditions, and even the heavily armed escort of the king’s army slowed the rising deaths by only a small margin.
King Darious furrowed his brow, his tight, dark salty hair, topped with a beautiful ancient circlet. His dark eyes peered from behind a pair of aggrid encrusted glasses. He was average in every way, average height, average build. Just by looking at him, you knew he was someone who ruled through fear and intimidation. What he lacked in looks, he made up for in cunning. He stood on the grand balcony of his high chamber, lost in deep contemplation as he stared out at the kingdom’s slow, agonizing construction.
Grey smoke curled from his pipe as he muttered darkly to himself, “I need more miners if I am to expand this great empire. I cannot sit idle.” His train of thought was abruptly interrupted when his son and daughter barged into his chambers.
Prince Lyon, the king’s only son and proud captain of the royal guard, was a master military tactician. His well-groomed appearance showed a clean and proper prince. He towered over his father, with a muscular lean build. He would try to emulate what his father and his sister were not, class. Before the young age of twenty, he had already won a handful of fierce battles through sheer outmaneuvering and clever ambush tactics that he himself has created.
Princess Diabella, was no mere submissive princess. Her hulking stature she took from her father except she was a clean foot taller. Her raven-coloured hair against her milky white skin gave her an undead, terrifying haunting look.
She had brands up and down her arms, not from torture but from what she believed was fun, that she did to herself when she was younger. She believed in crippling her enemies by any ruthless means necessary, and if they did not bow instantly to their new king, they would simply cease to exist.
“Father, there you are. We have much to discuss,” Prince Lyon said as he strolled toward the crystal decanter of wine on the table, popping the cork and gently wafting the combination of fruit and nut aromas towards his nose.
“Yes, Father. We have quite a few urgent matters to attend to, and staring at the mountain while smoking will not solve anything,” Princess Diabella said softly as she joined her stern father on the balcony. Diabella gently took her father’s hand, set his pipe down, and walked with him into the study.
There, the king settled into his jewel-encrusted chair and lightly waved for his children to sit opposite him across the heavy table. “What matters do we have to discuss today?” he asked in an exhausted, gravelly tone.
Prince Lyon poured half a silver goblet of wine. After taking a small sip, he slammed it hard onto the table in a dramatic fashion and gently wiped his mouth with the kerchief from his breast pocket. “The expansion is moving along on schedule, but we are having severe trouble transporting the Aggrid from the mountain.
The miners are becoming fewer by the day, and there is dark talk of revolt due to the harrowing working conditions, frequent injuries, and constant loss of life.”
The miners were made up of those who had refused to live under King Darious’s rule, those who were annexed from the surrounding villages, and some that were prisoners of the great war.
The king shifted in his chair and lightly stroked his thick beard, his intense gaze fixed on his son. “Add another heavy garrison of guards to the shipyard behind the mountain to help the labourers load. Send another warship as an escort and equip it with extra archers and spearmen. If we can successfully prevent more deaths, perhaps that will ease the miners’ anxious minds. There will always be injuries, and there will always be trouble on the stormy seas. If they truly want to revolt, then they will learn there are far worse fates than mining in the dark mountains,” the king said coldly.
Diabella shifted uneasily in her chair. The king looked over, his sharp tone biting slightly more. “Does something bother you, my daughter? What pressing business have you brought to the table that has you so visibly uneasy?”
Regaining her composure, Diabella retrieved something heavy from her leather satchel and dropped three wicked daggers onto the table. The king stared down at them, confusion tightening his face. “A couple of daggers? What of them?” he snapped. Diabella looked to her brother for reassurance, but he only shrugged.
She turned back to her father. “We found them near the rocky foothills of the mountain. They bear the exact same insignia as the secret whispers you had in your service some time ago. We must send a hunting expedition to secure the mountain perimeter, then thoroughly scour the kingdom,” Diabella urged.
Diabella tried to imply that Prince Lyon would be best suited to spearhead the problem. “The bigger issue at hand is,” the princess was abruptly cut off as the ground began to shake relentlessly. A thunderous, deafening crash sounded in the distance. The king, Lyon, and Diabella rose in panic and rushed to the balcony in the king’s personal quarters. From there, looking out from the rear of the mountain, the king had a perfect view of his entire operation.
Giant boulders, sand, and choking dust crashed down the side of the mountain.
They watched in horror as a massive rockslide swallowed the entire entrance. “I was going to say that the mountain has become unstable inside. Frequent tremors have been throwing miners off balance and sending them falling into the deep caverns,” Diabella said quietly, trailing off under her breath.
The king stared at the mayhem, the immense amount of destruction, or it was perhaps a grand opportunity that had just unfolded. The king turned to his son, “Lyon, do you know what this means?” He looked at the prince as if expecting him to share the exact same idea.
Lyon was still in shock, he could only think of the innocent workers trapped or dead. “So many people are likely gone. So many wounded, and worse, trapped inside to succumb to their cruel fate alone in the mountain. My soldiers share that same tragic fate. Good men and women.” Pure, unfiltered sorrow crossed the prince’s face.
The king looked back to the mountain, his words empty of empathy. “We need more miners and an entire division to reopen that mountain. I will have my city expansion finished on time. If we run out of aggrid, we risk immediate war with the legions of the northern mountain people and the southern lost island folk.”
The king launched into one of his familiar, booming tirades about his grand vision for the kingdom, giving Diabella the perfect chance to slip away quietly from the room. Prince Lyon, trying desperately to maintain his composure and patience, slowly backed toward the main door, bowed deeply, and hurried off to the barracks to assemble a division.
Early the next morning, Lyon and Diabella had assembled two distinct divisions of soldiers, each suited to their completely different styles of leadership.
Strong men and women, heavy carts, horses, and provisions were gathered for the lengthy expedition outside the mountain, where debris would need to be cleared before mining operations could safely resume.
The rockslide had caused a crowd to gather in the public square. The king made his way down to address the villagers of the capital. As the massive drawbridge slowly lowered, everyone was surprised to see a small crowd of survivors in the distance. The survivors began to head toward the capital from the Great Bridge after exiting the elevator pulley system. “They must have been ferried from the back of the mountain by the first available ship.” Lyon whispered to Diabella as they watched from the steps of the capital building.
The survivors made their way from the bridge to the town square, slowly followed by villagers with fixed, glaring eyes and soft, worried murmurs passing from mouth to ear. The exhausted miners and soldiers finally came to a stop, each one covered completely in dust, ash, and blood. Their battered bodies bore deep cuts, broken bones, and clear signs of severe dehydration.
Slowly, the compassionate villagers began to bring buckets of water, bandages, and fresh food.
Even this small act of kindness was a risk. Under the king’s dictatorship, the villagers had acquiesced to blind obedience. Any aid or supplies given out without the order of the king, would certainly result in repercussions for themselves and or their families. The survivors showed deep gratitude to their neighbours and friends, but that gratitude soon soured into bitterness and anger as they watched the king, prince, and princess approach with their armed garrison surrounding and cutting off every exit.
The king strode forward majestically from the very middle of the royal escort. “Thank the heavens some are still alive, and seemingly no worse for wear. It is truly a miracle,” he loudly declared. His booming voice echoing dramatically across the open square as he desperately tried to win favour from the on looking crowd.
“Tell us, what news of the collapsed mountain entrance? Are there any other survivors left?” His urgent words fell on deaf ears as he searched their hollow faces for answers.
“The mountain entrance? Is this a cruel joke?” a raspy voice in the crowd replied in absolute disbelief. One of the surviving mining lead hands, his thin, battered and malnourished body covered in bruises and dirt. His short black hair is dusty with white ash. His brown eyes glaring past his sunken cheek bones and rough facial features, stepped boldly to the front of the circle and directly faced the king. “After all we have just been through, after all we have tragically lost and endured, after all the urgent warnings we sent about the mountain being unstable and the tremors...” The man trailed off, his jaw tight, then spat the next words like lethal venom. “All you truly care about is your entrance?”
The king’s royal fury flared instantly. That a mere subject had dared to use such a disrespectful tone with him turned his royal blood to molten lava. “How dare you... How dare you speak to your sovereign king with such blatant disrespect!” His furious words echoed sharply across the town square.
The uneasy villagers began murmuring softly among themselves about the king’s harsh response. The weary survivors had easily earned their deepest sympathy after all they had endured. In the tense midst of his tirade, the king suddenly noticed some protective villagers advancing slowly toward the royal vanguard. As the volatile situation grew more tense, the king’s elite garrison moved swiftly into a defensive stance, keeping the prince and princess safely behind them. Survivors stared down hardened soldiers; soldiers stood focused, and ready to attack. Heavy tension lingered in the air like a dense fog on a humid summer morning.
During the tense standoff, the fractured villagers began to splinter into distinct groups. Passionate sympathizers, fierce loyalists, and those cautious souls who wanted absolutely nothing to do with the situation at all.
Seeing the fragile situation on the verge of exploding into bloody mayhem, the king smoothly raised his hand for his soldiers to stand down. The town square collectively breathed a massive sigh of relief, and the rigid crowd began to relax. The king approached the defiant lead hand with a mask of humility. “You are right. I may be king, but my grand ambition can get the better of me at times. I would like to offer an apology,” he said in a much softer tone. “I would like to offer each brave survivor a permanent place in the affluent second tier of the capital building. Tonight, you will bathe, eat, and drink. Tomorrow, after the sun rises, you shall all set sail to a beautiful island paradise, where your hard work and deep sorrows may wash away forever.”
Always eager to appease their king, deafening cheers erupted from the villagers and survivors, raining down on him and instantly restoring him to an illusioned, perceived public favour. Though the king ruled with an iron fist, he was all ego, and still wanted for the love and admiration of his people.
The evening stretched long into the night. The grand festivities throughout the city offered plenty of rich food, strong drink, and comfort, it was the king’s easiest distraction to keep his people pacified. The king, prince, and princess even graciously joined the celebrations, showing their faces in the crowded districts and sharing laughs and stories with the second-tier residents and mingling with a handful of lower-tier citizens.
The silver moon floated high in the night sky as though suspended in a dark, endless abyss. While the stars shone brightly behind like tiny little lanterns illuminating the vast darkness above. As the long night wound down and the city grew quiet, tired shopkeepers swept the last dirt from their steps, and the occasional drunken villager stumbled home.
The sun broke the golden horizon the following day, preparations for the grand ship’s departure were already well underway. The joyous festivities from the night before resumed as soon as the shops opened their doors. Large crowds gathered on the Great Bridge, and silver trumpets, heavy drums, and musicians rang out across the kingdom.
The survivors walked proudly toward the bridge lift, waving happily to the crowd, each carrying bags of personal belongings and fresh provisions for the journey to paradise. In the distance, the king stood upon the main balcony with the prince and princess, watching the celebration with a cold gaze.
The music stopped abruptly as soon as all the survivors reached the wooden deck of the ship, waiting below at the Great Bridge port. The crowd fell deathly, breathlessly silent when the king motioned for quiet. “We are here today to send off these brave survivors of the mining tragedy that befell us. Before they head off, I would like to invite the lead hand that spoke with me yesterday to join my royal guard as an advisor.” The king’s words had barely left his lips before roaring cheers drowned out the message. The beckoned man gathered his belongings from the ship and headed toward the stone overlook.
As he stepped back onto the Great Bridge, the heavy lift mechanism slammed shut behind him with an ominous grinding thud. Hesitantly, he continued walking forward. He looked up and saw the king give a slight wave of his hand.
The trumpets began to play again, sounding across the wide bridge, and thunderous drums carried the kingdom’s anthem as the ship set sail into the bay. When the man arrived beside the king on the balcony, the submissive crowd erupted once more. He bowed deeply and looked out at his former companions aboard the departing ship.
The king raised his hand again, signalling for the trumpets to stop. “What is your name, lead miner?” the king asked, loud enough for the entire crowd to hear. “Gareth,” the man said nervously.
Once again appeasing their king, the crowd began chanting Gareth’s name the moment they heard it, showing their blind support for whatever their king commanded. “Never again, Gareth, shall your companions endure hardship or heavy labour. With their hard work and sacrifice, may this paradise be their reward.” The king trailed off, muttering darkly to himself, then shot Princess Diabella a pointed look. She nodded knowingly. “May it also be a permanent lesson to anyone who disrespects and embarrasses their king in front of his loyal subjects,” he said coldly.
Diabella raised her arm. Along the high castle walls, archers lined up from end to end with flaming arrows drawn tight. “No!” Gareth shouted in horror, just as Diabella brought her arm down swiftly.
The sky filled with fire, lighting the air as a deadly rain of arrows cascaded down on the ship in the middle of the bay. The entire kingdom froze in absolute shock. Some people wept; others turned to white-hot anger. Prince Lyon gave his own sharp command, and as soon as the ship was completely engulfed, a heavy garrison of troops flooded the Great Bridge and every part of the castle to swiftly snuff out any discord that might follow.
The horrific screams from the boat became background noise beneath the chaos and confusion erupting in the city streets.
Gareth stared at the king with pure, unadulterated rage in his eyes, but Prince Lyon quickly subdued him to his knees, holding him still with an iron grip.
“Quiet!” the king yelled across the capital. “Let this be an example to all. Disrespect and disloyalty will not be tolerated. Gareth will now serve as my general. He will be an example, tasked to work for me until death.” The king’s terrifying ferocity was now on full display. It was plain as day how clever and exceptionally cruel he had been to take over the mountain in the first place.
Gareth knew he was not being bestowed an honour with the rank, but instead a life sentence. After what he had just caused by speaking up for his people, he would not let that happen again, ever. He would have no choice but to be a loyal general.
The king reared his head, “Prince Lyon, you will head northwest and embark upon an urgent expedition across the lands in search of villages with able bodies to work my mountain mines.
Princess Diabella, you will establish a central command centre at Dark Lake, along with a base camp in the central province for your brother to check in. Get a work camp running so the mountain can return to operation with every single able body Prince Lyon sends your way. After you have thoroughly swept the lands, we will meet back after the passing of the seasons for a glorious celebration on the Great Bridge. I will have absolute order in my kingdom, and anyone who opposes it will see death.” The king stormed off.
The Aggrid Kingdom Series-The Mine In The Mountain is an epic dark fantasy novel that will grip readers from the start with its immersive world building and dramatic beginning.
Readers will be lulled into a false sense of security by a seemingly merciful king who then flips the script and reveals his true colours as a villain within the opening pages. This establishes the novel as a book that will circumvent reader expectations and sets the stage, showcasing the cruelty of the monarch and the truth behind the kingdom.
Sometimes in this genre debut authors can fall down when it comes to the concept of world building. Details go amiss and readers are left wondering how things work. That is NOT a problem with this book. It’s clear that the author has taken an immense amount of time designing The Aggrid Kingdom, puzzling over the logistics of everything from Aggrid itself, a rare golden-black resource that is mined by the civilisation, to the detailed in-depth politics of the region. As public favor devolves readers see how society starts to change through the subtle details the author includes.
All of this serves as a driving force for the story, fracturing out like spiderwebs throughout the book and weaving itself into a plot that feels refreshing and dynamic compared to other books in this genre.
Readers who enjoy the works of Brendon Sanderson would really enjoy this book as it is similar when it comes to rich, immerse universes carved into pages. However, readers may find C.J. Spirak a slight step above as his characterisation is arguably more emotive than what we see in Sanderson’s work. The punches hit harder because the author makes the reader invest in the characters, bringing them to life through the authenticity of human nature. They can empathise with them and understand their plights, even when a character is giving the metaphorical dagger in the back.
As expected with most series in any genre, the book ends with a hook to the next one. It’s a clever literary device used by authors to get that pre-order and it really works here because readers will be desperate to find out what happens next.
Overall, this is a book for die hard epic fantasy readers who love sinking their teeth into rich complex novels and well-developed realistic worlds.