Kingdom of Zuland, City of Belfire, Present day.
Cold winds blew through the passageways of Grezeit Castle.
Sara walked through the garden channel like she had done hundreds of times before. She placed her hand on the banister, and admired the flowers' beauty and scent.
The Foxtail Lilies; a well-known flower of the north. A scent as soft as silk, and large hanging petals that resembled the texture of a fox's tail, thus where the name was adopted from. Her mother had helped with the planting of the flowers when she was a little girl.
She grimaced at the thought. A queen rummaging through the dirt, such child's play. She continued and shook the thoughts away as she tried thinking about what had transpired at her mother's cabin. She was to meet her father before her ceremony.
At each end of the passage was a loyal man of the Grezeit Guard. They stood in place without a single twitch. One would assume the cold winds froze them over.
Sara was reminded against this every few feet as she passed them.
They bowed and echoed, "Lady Sara."
She didn't bother to acknowledge their regard. It was expected of them after all, anything less would be blasphemous. She pulled a small piece of solid steel from her coat and commanded it to levitate above her open palm before turning it into a sphere of liquid steel. The gift of aura was given to possibly twenty out of a hundred at birth. It was a rare trait though it was no surprise to someone of her bloodline. Each generation of Eshlons had at least three with the gift of magic. Her great grandmother, Tenmas, also known as The Scorch of North for her aptitude with flame aura. Her uncle Keasto was a man who built his reputation with countless victories over the Enlancer Rebels using his mind for tactics and his conjuration of light aura. Now there was her, an Eshlon with the ability to command steel, mold it into a liquid and back to a solid in any shape she desired. Like any aura though, it was draining, and she could only command simpler steels like iron and silver. In time perhaps she could hone her abilities enough to mold more pure steels like shadowsteel or waterglass. She reached the end of the channel where two giant-sized doors made from solid pine awaited her. They were shined to resemble marble and embedded with countless designs and the insignia of Zuland.
Beside the doors was Myngelion, an autumn-furred kasaber easily two times her size. One of Zuland's best warriors and her personal Queen's Shield. The beast had grown to a very hefty size since the day she had met him.
"Myn." Sara gave him a customary salute; a hand over the heart followed by a nod. "How's my shield?"
Myn mirrored her salute with the addition of a bow. He released a low growl. It was his only way to answer due to his inability to speak.
"Good morning to you as well." Sara bit her lip as she felt a ping of guilt. Poor thing was the subject of torture and ridicule almost a decade ago. She remembered the trip she had taken alongside her father to the Kingdom of Ara'koh many summers ago. The lands of Ara'koh were as hot as Zuland was cold. At one point she had left her father's side and somehow ended up near the slave quarters where she found the kasaber at the end of a whip. He was nothing but flesh and bone at the time, his orange fur was clumped together by grime and dry blood. His speech was reduced to growls and grunts since his tongue had been cut out. She remembered how she had pleaded endlessly to her reluctant father until he gave in and agreed to buy the kasaber's freedom. After then, Myn had devoted his life to her regardless of her initial decision to allow him to be free. Upon reaching home she asked the scribes to teach him to write and read. He picked up literature fairly quickly, as well as an aptitude for combat which gave him the position as a royal protector. One day Sara had helped him with reading The Tales of Knight Myngelion, a favorite of all Zuland children. Seeing as the kasaber had no name to accompany his new title, she decided that his name would be that of the book's hero. Not long after, he won an annual combat tournament held to choose new members for the royal guard. Since that day, everyone in the kingdom knew him as Myngelion, Queen's Shield. No longer was he just a kasaber that was pitied and gifted a soft life. He had earned his merit as trustworthy warrior. His story of woe was one of many like that of his people. She aimed to fix that once she was queen.
Myn pushed the pine doors, their roars echoed as the meeting room was revealed.
"Thank you, Myn." She smiled. "Come on, follow behind."
His heavy boots stifled the speech of the men inside.
Sara was greeted with a large rectangular room with two elegant throne-like seats at each side which were occupied by Zuland's four generals, all of which wore velvet regal coats underneath small sections of armor.
A large map of Elsire was spread across the center table. Elevated above the rest of seats were two thrones surrounded by a banister with an exquisite tier of detail carved into the wood.
The King of Zuland, The Protector of the North, and the man she proudly called father sat upon his throne. His otherwise pristine gold hair had some snow-kissed strands mixed into it. "Men, may I introduce the next member of our council. As of today, she has been reaccepted into our ranks." He extended his arm to her.
"Lady Sara." They said in unison.
Sara gave a nod. "Apologies for my tardiness, father. I won't make a habit of it." Her words echoed in her mind.
The silence was broken by a murmur. "I don't recall the stub-tongue a member." The voice belonged to the man at her left. A rather pale man that many would assume was deprived of food due to his skinny physique that resembled a corpse.
King Eshlon curved his gaze. "Do you have something to say, General Vadill?"
"Pardon my intrusion, my king." Vadill turned to her father then back to her. "And you as well, my lady. But am I too rash to say that this meeting is reserved for high-esteemed members of council?" He glared at Myn. "Not a beast like that fur-back."
Myn snarled, exposing his honed fangs. He took a heavy step towards Vadill.
Sara quickly raised a hand. "Myn."
He quickly retreated.
Vadill seemed hardly phased by her shield. But now all eyes were on her, eagerly awaiting her response.
Sara breathed in; she felt her ears grow warm. "General Vadill, I remind you that Myngelion is my loyal shield. Anywhere I go, he follows. In turn, he can go where he pleases, any information said here will be privy to me as well as my shield. Will this prove to be a problem?" She raised an eyebrow as she smiled internally. She knew what followed. An improvised pile of bosh; an apology made up of boot-licking.
Vadill seemed to have lost his tongue for a moment. "Of course not, my lady. Perhaps I was too hasty. Forgive me."
The words were like sweet nectar to her. She stood upright. Exactly. She walked around the men up towards her father which now wore a wide grin. "Come now, Myn."
"Hahaha!" Across the table the youthful General Svarga burst into laughter. He rubbed at his dark beard that matched his swept hair. "My King, your daughter takes up after you. She could melt the frozen lake with a fire like that."
Sara took a seat beside her father as she smiled at the man's comment. She had met the man a small collection of times, or so she believed she had. Apparently, there were two by the name 'General Svarga', brothers in fact. And she was told on occasion that she would confuse the two.
Her father smiled. "Indeed, Svarga. My daughter carries the blood of the Eshlons and with it the strength of her forefathers. She will be the one to carry my legacy forward." He sat straight in his seat before eyeing his men "Now…shall we begin?"
Svarga's chuckle came to a slow stop. "Of course."
The king looked down on his generals with conviction. "Men of Zuland, I believe we need to reconsider our standing within the Allied Kingdoms. We've discussed this matter many times in the past but never have we come on an agreement on what would be best for Zuland. The Allied Kingdoms were crafted on the idea of four nations standing together for the better of all people. But can we truly move forward whilst being held back by our sister kingdoms? To begin, the Kingdom of Loradel is one of the many anchors that threatens our way of life with its weaknesses. Our very own General Giase has seen this firsthand."
General Giase, whom sat across Svarga nodded, causing his oiled straw-like hair to bob up and down.
"The people there have begun to walk back in the trail of time, reverting into savages that implement force to see their whims quenched. We all here have heard of the rogue lancers, correct?"
The generals nodded and mumbled to one another.
Sara froze on the thought as she attempted to remember. The details came to her piece by piece. The Rogue Lancers Tragedy, the event that transpired perhaps a year ago where an entire battalion of Loradel men turned against the kingdom and began to raid the lands. The revolt took many lives, including that of many soldiers and innocents.
Her father leaned forward. "Then we are all aware of Loradel's weakened grasp on its men, isn't that correct, General Svarga?" He extended a glance to the youthful, tan-skinned man.
"Yes, lord…but why exactly is this relevant?"
"Roads to the south are poorly guarded and infested with scum. I cannot tolerate these vermin to continue as they wish. It will develop into a problem sooner than we may anticipate."
"If I may?" Vadill raised his toothpick of an arm. "Zuland is prosperous, we have an abundance of rich harvest and criminal acts are at their lowest, so why might we give our efforts and men to aid Loradel?"
"As you said, Vadill, Zuland has an air of superiority, we emanate fear into the hearts of unrighteous. That fear will bring order to the Allied Kingdom. But first…we must take it."
The men shared glances of confusion.
"Take it, lord?" asked General Svarga.
"The Allied Kingdoms, rather…the continent of Eredia is our home. It needs to be properly protected if we wish for our nation to prosper. I propose we unite the Allied Kingdoms into a nation ruled by one."
Sara felt a knot in her gut, lips parted she looked into her father's eyes. Control over the Allied Kingdoms?
Svarga's eyes darted between the men. "Lord do you mean…war?" He voiced 'war' as if it was a word that would bring death at its mere mention.
The King breathed in. "If the other kingdoms don't swear their loyalty to us…I'd assume there would be conflict."
Svarga cleared his throat. "I mean no offense, lord. But wouldn't war serve as a counter purpose?"
Sara's thoughts alone.
The king nodded as he put up a hand. "I don't deny that there would be negative outcomes, all plans come with the threat of failure. But to have an age of order without a shadow of disarray looming over our future generations…it is a small price to pay. Besides, now that Sara has been given back her title she has also retaken her old duties. One of which is her betrothal to Prince Lanance of Ara'koh. That would align Zuland and Ara'koh, leaving only Loradel and Hallos to unify."
Sara felt a sudden weight come over her as her father's words echoed in her mind. Betrothal to the Prince of Ara'koh, a bridge she was happy to build when it was with the man she loved, her fiancé; Prince Ramses. Hearing about having to marry his older brother in his stead…even four years after his death…it felt wrong, blasphemous even. It didn't help that Prince Lanace, though older, was only a fraction of the man she loved.
Svarga lowered his head.
It seemed she wasn't the only one contemplating with doubts.
"My king." Vadill's shrill voice echoed through the room. "Zuland has no history of war. Even with a weakened grasp, Loradel's military is still a sizable threat."
"Are you doubting me?" retorted King Eshlon.
"Of—of course not," he barked. "But we would lose many good men is all."
"That is a soldier's duty, Vadill. To give his life for his kingdom. Though fear not for our men, but for Loradel's…should they deny our proposition."
Sara fidgeted with her fingers.
General Giase lifted his hand. "I for one don't doubt you, my lord. If anyone is capable of achieving such a feat, it would be you. The unrighteous have no clue of what awaits them."
Sara rolled her eyes. Bootlicker. It seemed like the only man willing to challenge the thoughts of her father was Svarga. Unlike the others, he shared his doubts aloud and didn't flinch at her father's voice. It was rather admiring. Now that she was a part of the council, perhaps it was time to have more men like him, for what good were generals that were nothing but fawners. Loyalty was important, but so was wise counsel. Everything seemed to go quiet as the thought of war plagued her mind. Her breath shuttered as a layer of sweat coated her palms. No, don't be such a child…this is the reality of being a leader. Hard decisions… She balled her fist. "Do continue, father." She lined her words with a slim veil of confidence.
The king smiled at her with his admiration emanating from his eyes.
Her weight of doubt was slowly lifted by her father's esteem. These were confusing times. But she would come to accept and understand the needs of ruling. Her father had never failed her before, he wouldn't fail her now.