Those days blended together afterwards. We had turned back Galarcia's first assault, but it cost us dear. Soldiers labored day and night to patch the eastern walls, filling holes where the siege towers had scraped the stone bare. Those who lived with their scars laid them not only upon their bodies but in their eyes—a haunted look that spoke of the narrowness of our victory.
Chris and I walked through the grounds of the fortress, watching our people mend and rebuild. Word of the battle spread, and the villages along the borders began sending their strongest men and women, willing to stand against Galarcia. But even with the new reinforcements, we were stretched thin. If Galarcia mounted another assault, we weren't certain we'd have the strength to hold them back.
Lord Alder has been summoned to the war council to devise strategy. His face was grim, but his eyes blazed with fierce intent. "Galarcia will come again, with twice the might," he said, his voice unmoving. "We must gain more allies, or this castle will fall."
As he spoke a glimmer of hope sprang in my mind. "What about the Veiled Isles? They owe Arkenvale a debt, do they not? Their warriors are famous for their prowess, and their navy could cut off Galarcia's supply lines from the sea."
Lord Alder gazed at me, thinking. "It is possible. But the Isles have not sent forces to the mainland for centuries. They are proud people, and making them listen will not be easy."
Chris stepped forward, nodding. "If we do not attempt, then we cannot win. We will go to the Isles and plead our case."
I felt equal measures of hope and fear. If we failed, then for sure we would lose precious time, but if we succeeded, then it could tip the scale in our favor. Lord Alder did give his okay, and the following morning, Chris and I prepared to set out.
We rode hard, arriving on the coast by nightfall and boarding a swiftness ship under Arkenvale's banner. The passage to the Isles of the Veil was risky; high winds and rain churned the sea in waves. And yet at dawn we spied the Isles: sharply risen cliffs out of the mist, dark and foreboding their forests.
The Islean council received us warily, their gazes unyielding. They were proud folk with armor that shone like water. Their leader, Lady Maeve, was as sharp as her look pierced. She studied us in silence before finally speaking, her voice chilly and clear.
"Why should the Veiled Isles risk blood and steel for Arkenvale? Our lands remain untouched by Galarcia's ambitions. Our people are safe here."
I breathed; I carefully chose each word. "But how long? Galarcia does not stop when they have conquered. They'll come here too, looking to further expand their empire. When that day comes, it will be far too late for alliances to be formed. Join us now, and we can put an end to them before they reach the shores of your homeland."
And a silence fell, as heavy as the mist clinging to the room. Lady Maeve looked at her council and back to us. Her expression softened, but her tone was still cautious. "We will consider it. For now, rest here. A decision will come by morning."
He and I retired to quarters offered, the emotions of relief and anxiety split down our chests. As night fell, he took hold of my hand, giving it a firm squeeze.
"What may happen, we shall face each other," he whispered, "fire blazing in his eyes."
And as the day broke over the horizon we stood, all hopes pinned that the Isles would stand with our side.