"WHAT!" was the collective reaction of all the people of Starling upon hearing the news. In the palace, tension filled the air, the weight of the announcement pressing down on everyone present.
"Your highness, that is preposterous!" one of the lords exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief.
"Ahem!" Jeshur cleared his throat, making sure everyone remembered they were in the presence of the king. The room fell silent, the atmosphere thick with anticipation.
"Sorry, your highness," the lord apologized, bowing his head.
"It's fine; tell me all what you're thinking," King Darrios said calmly as he looked out the castle window, his gaze distant.
"Your highness, sorry for my boldness, but what could possibly be their offer that made you decide this?" another lord asked, his curiosity and concern evident in his tone.
"A half of Riruk," King Darrios answered, his voice steady but laden with the weight of the decision.
Everyone in the room fell silent again. The Riruk Kingdom was known to be suffering from a sibling rivalry, and the news was shocking.
The room felt charged with unspoken thoughts and emotions.
"Avaloria planned to take it by quantity, especially since Riruk had Guardian Ice Golem protecting them," the king explained, his eyes still fixed on the horizon.
"Jeshur," he called out, breaking the heavy silence.
Jeshur stepped forward, unrolling a scroll with deliberate care.
"Okay, as part of the alliance, these are the conditions that should be met. After taking Riruk, all should be split in half. The alliance between Avaloria and Starling will last five years after conquering the said country. Routes for trading will be open for both kingdoms," he read aloud, his voice steady.
The merchant lords started to grin at the prospect of increased trade, the tension in the room momentarily easing.
"And, all slaves must be returned to their homeland," Jeshur concluded, his words hanging in the air.
"WHAT!!!!!" The lords were in shock, their disbelief echoing through the room. The gravity of the condition settled over them like a heavy cloud.
"My king, slavery has been a part of our society for a long time. It would be a drastic change if we lost all our slaves," Duke Richard of the Duchy of Veridia said calmly.
"I just said foreign slaves, not slavery itself. You can still buy slaves, but not from another country. Anyway, we'll pay for each slave you own," King Darrios answered, his voice firm.
"But…" some lords began to protest.
"No buts!" King Darrios interjected, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"My king," an old man stood up, his voice trembling with emotion.
"My son died fighting the Avalorians, and now we're letting them into our country?" Lord Reginald Ulfric, Count of River Bend, declared.
"He's right," other nobles thought silently, their expressions mirroring Reginald's sentiment.
"You really think you're the only one who lost their loved ones during the war? That's selfish of you, Ulfric," another lord said, his voice filled with frustration.
As the wild bantering continued, the king watched them silently, his expression unreadable.
"Why did my son die in the war while yours just came back home? You selfish bastard!" A lord shouted, his anger boiling over.
Both parties began preparing for a spell, their hands glowing with energy. The tension in the room was palpable. Just as the spells were about to be unleashed, royal guards stormed in to stop them.
"Enough!" The king's voice thundered through the room.
"It's already been signed. There's no stopping it, so do your job and follow all the conditions."
The lords fell silent, their anger replaced by a grudging acceptance.
"Sorry, your Majesty," they all bowed, their voices subdued.
"Okay, dismissed," the king said, waving his hand.
The lords filed out of the room, their minds heavy with the implications of the new alliance. The king remained by the window, his gaze distant as he contemplated the future of his kingdom.
Outside the palace, the mass was divided into three distinct groups.
The first group comprised those who vehemently opposed the alliance. Their faces were marked with anger and resentment, a manifestation of the deep-seated hatred they harbored.
The pain of lost loved ones and the scars of past conflicts fueled their opposition. These individuals saw the alliance as a betrayal, an affront to the sacrifices made by their kin.
The second group consisted of people yearning for peace. Their eyes held a glimmer of hope, a desire to move beyond the animosity and rebuild their lives. Many of them had family members who had been captured, and the prospect of their return brought a sense of optimism. They believed in the greater good that the alliance could bring, envisioning a future free from the shadows of war.
The third group was made up of those who remained indifferent, still weighing the pros and cons of the situation. Their expressions were contemplative, their minds torn between the potential benefits and drawbacks of the alliance. They stood on the periphery, observing the unfolding events with a mix of curiosity and caution.
The atmosphere was tense, charged with the emotions of the divided masses. The palace loomed in the background, a symbol of the decision that had stirred such strong reactions. As the people voiced their opinions, the air buzzed with the clamor of conflicting perspectives, a testament to the complexity of forging a new path in the wake of war.
Back in the palace, King Darrios sat alone on the throne, his figure bathed in the dim light of the chamber.
The atmosphere was heavy, as if the very walls bore witness to the weight of his decisions.
Shadows danced around him, amplifying the sense that he might have taken the wrong path.
Tok, tok, tok. The sound of footsteps echoed through the silent hall. A figure emerged from the darkness, wearing a thick gray cloak that swayed slightly as he moved. His gray hair and sharp, calculating eyes gave him an air of foreboding. It was Draven Silentvisk.
"Your Majesty," Draven began, his voice low and steady. "The names of possible traitors have been finalized."
King Darrios didn't turn to face him. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on the darkness beyond the chamber windows.
"Okay, Draven. Do what you do best, and I hope no noise will come out."
Draven straightened, his expression unyielding.
"Will do, and only for you, my king," he said, his voice carrying a dangerous certainty. Without another word, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving the king alone once again.
Darrios leaned back in his throne, exhaling deeply. The silence of the palace pressed down on him, as if the very foundation of his kingdom judged him for the decisions he had made.
Meanwhile, at the academy, the atmosphere was anything but silent. Students were riled up, their voices echoing through the hallways as protests erupted inside. Groups gathered in heated discussions, their faces flushed with frustration and anger.
Some students wanted to leave, desperate to distance themselves from the king's decision. But they were bound by the oath they had made—leaving was not an option.
"So it is really true, huh?" Rina muttered, her voice tinged with both curiosity and disbelief.
"Damn, what's the king thinking?" Leo said, shaking his head in frustration.
"Well, if you ask me, it's a sure win," Jestus replied, his tone pragmatic.
"But it's a betrayal to our ancestors and to the ones who sacrificed their lives to defeat those bastards," Jack added, his voice filled with righteous anger. The group walked down the corridor, their steps heavy with the weight of their argument.
"Yeah, as for me," Rethrus thought, his gaze distant.
"I didn't really care about it , but now that it's happening, I don't feel it's right."
"Like, what if they'll betray us after the war?" Lumine said, moving in front of Rethrus to cling to his arm.
"Well, it would be a lack of honor if they did that, wouldn't it?" Aethra replied, walking on Rethrus' right side, his tone sharp yet thoughtful.
"Aiko, you're originally from there, right? Would you go back there too?" Jack asked, glancing curiously at her. Aiko didn't answer, her gaze fixed on the ground, her expression unreadable.
"Oh, my bad," Jack apologized, realizing he had touched a sensitive topic.
"Nah, let's just follow orders," Rethrus muttered, his voice calm and resigned.
"Ohm," they all agreed.
A week later, the alliance between Starglade and Avaloria officially began.
In a grim turn of events, rumors spread about lords and counts being found dead in their own homes. Whispers of assassination by rival families or tragic accidents filled the streets, casting a shadow over the alliance. The air in the noble quarters was tense, and even the palace felt heavier than before.
Along the mountain range that separated the two nations, the borders were opened for the first time in years. Avalorian soldiers marched into Starglade's main city, their presence turning heads.
They wore uniforms distinctly different from the Starglade Army—sleek, dark, and foreboding. Their disciplined steps and icy gazes gave an air of quiet dominance.
At the palace, the soldiers knelt in respect before King Darrios.
"King Darrios, these are the soldiers who will retrieve the slaves and take them back to our country," Takashi said, stepping forward.
Darrios, seated on his throne, observed the soldiers with a measured gaze.
"I assume the slave retrieval is ready, right?" Takashi asked.
"Well, some areas are ready, but as expected, some parts are... not taking it too well," Darrios admitted, his tone revealing the unease he carefully masked.
"Well, that's expected, knowing how much we've angered our own people,"
Takashi replied, his voice tinged with dry humor and understanding.
The two men stood side by side, their eyes fixed on the soldiers below. The tension between them was palpable, forged in years of battle and decisions that demanded sacrifice.
"How about a game of chess?" he asked Takashi, his voice surprisingly light.
Takashi accepted; the click of pieces a counterpoint to the palace's silent hum.
Darrios moved first, a cautious pawn advance.
"A solid opening," Takashi commented, mirroring the move.
Darrios smiled faintly.
"But even the most cautious strategy can be undone," he said, his eyes hinting at the alliance's precariousness.
Takashi countered with a knight, a subtle threat.
Darrios moved his bishop defensively.
The game became a silent conversation, each move a calculated risk, reflecting the kingdom's delicate balance of power.
The quiet tension between them was palpable; the game, like the alliance, was far from over.
"I wonder," Takashi began, his voice thoughtful. "If you and my king did the right thing?"
Darrios, though a king, knew Takashi spoke as an equal—a fellow product of war. "I guess it's already too late to back down now," Takashi.
"Huh, guess you're right," Takashi said with a faint sigh, his expression heavy.
After a moment of silence, Takashi shifted the tone. "Oh, by the way, I've heard about your prodigies, right? When can I see them?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
As they're reaching the endgame.
Darrios' lips curved into a proud grin. "They're in the academy. As a matter of fact, why not take one of them with you on your trip to retrieve your people?" Darrios suggested. "Some of our soldiers here in the main city might not cover all the cleared places. And your safety is our top priority," he added with a tone of authority.
Darrios made his decisive move: a pawn straight toward Takashi's king.
"Arghhhhh I lost!" Takashi accepted defeat after Analyzing that no one can stop the pawn.
Takashi nodded, considering the proposal as his gaze returned to the soldiers.
Ignisra, a city owned by the Langly family, stood as one of Starglade's largest and most formidable cities.
Known for the fire emblem engraved on its towering gates, the city was alive with fiery entertainment that mirrored the sigil of the Langly family—a dragon breathing fire, a symbol of dominance and power.
Inside the castle, an oppressive tension filled the air.
Arthurios Langly, Lord of Ignisra and head of the Langly family, sat on a high-backed chair, the flickering flames of the hearth reflecting his anger. In his hands, he held a newspaper detailing the mysterious deaths of various lords.
"Damn you, Draven, the king's pet," Arthurios growled, his temper flaring.
A surge of heat radiated from his palm, and the paper erupted into flames, disintegrating into ashes in mere seconds. He stared at the remnants with disdain before brushing them off his hands.
Tok, tok, tok. A knock echoed through the room.
"Come in!" Arthurios barked, his voice cutting through the crackling of the fire.
The heavy doors creaked open, revealing Slade and Joseph Langly. Slade walked in first, bowing deeply, his movements precise and measured. Behind him was Joseph, the eldest, his posture tense and his expression unreadable.
"Ah, my two sons," Arthurios began, his tone sharp. He turned to Slade first.
"One who's not a supreme general." Slade bowed his head respectfully, showing no reaction. Arthurios' gaze then shifted to Joseph.
"And my eldest, the father of a son who bore a light light, yet being constantly outshined by even a non-magic user."
Joseph clenched his fists, his jaw tightening, but he held his tongue. Arthurios continued, his taunts landing with precision.
"Anyway, what's the news?"
Slade straightened, his tone calm.
"The king's daughter is now open for suitors, father."
Arthurios leaned back, a smirk creeping onto his face.
"Then send Jasper. It's our only chance to get closer to the throne," he said confidently.
"But Father, Julian is more charismatic and more mature than Jasper," Joseph protested, his voice laced with frustration.
Arthurios let out a short laugh, leaning forward.
"Your son, Joseph, may have light abilities, but he didn't live up to our expectations. The king might choose him for his rare gift, but that's hardly enough," Arthurios spat, dismissing Joseph's point.
Slade interjected, a calculating glint in his eyes.
"Actually, I've seen those boys, Father. Rethrus stands out. He's not just good at magic but also at planning, leading, and even politics. He acts as if he's not a child—unlike the other two."
Arthurios' smirk faded, replaced by a dark expression.
"Then get rid of him!" he roared, slamming his fist onto the armrest. The flames in the hearth roared higher, reflecting his rage.
"Father! That's impossible! Are you seriously suggesting killing a child?" Joseph exclaimed, stepping forward.
"Yes," Arthurios replied coldly. "With or without that boy, we'll win this war. Quantity over quality."
He stood, walking toward the window, his silhouette outlined against the glow of the moon.
"All I want is to claim the throne. Dragons are not meant to bow to anyone," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of his unrelenting ambition.
The room fell silent, save for the crackling of the fire. Joseph stared at his father, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Slade remained quiet, his expression unreadable, calculating the implications of Arthurios' command.
Outside, the city of Ignisra burned brightly, a fiery reflection of its lord's dangerous determination.
Arthurios sat back in his throne, the flames in the hearth casting sharp shadows across the room. His piercing gaze settled on Slade.
"Anyway, don't you have an important matter to attend to, Slade?"
"Ah yes, Father," Slade replied, standing tall.
"There's a big rebellion brewing in Agleria. I'm planning to take half of our soldiers to fight with me."
"Go, take as many as you want," Arthurios said, waving dismissively. "I expect fewer casualties, okay?"
"Yes, father," Slade responded, his tone steady as he bowed slightly.
Arthurios turned his sharp eyes toward Joseph. "And as for you, Joseph, inform your son about what we've done here and hire him a tutor to teach him manners."
"Yes, Father," Joseph said quietly, his shoulders stiffening.
Arthurios' expression darkened further.
"I told you we should've trained that boy from an early age, yet you coddled him. And now, look what's happened," he added, his voice laced with disappointment.
Outside the castle, Slade stormed down the stone steps, his mind racing.
"Damn it!" he growled, punching a nearby wall. His knuckles stung, but he barely noticed. Jasper's arrival brought hope for our family, yet those god-chosen kids had to show up.
Tsk. I should get rid of them—especially him, he thought bitterly, Rethrus' name echoing in his mind.