In the 500-year history of the Obsidian Empire's assaults on Frosthold, there had only been one occasion when the Empire breached their lands. That assault was led by Prince Sylvan the Blackthorn, brother to then Emperor Verlyn and the high commander of the Empire's forces in 332. Sylvan commanded an army of elementalists and adepts, 10,000 men strong, and forced his way over the wall and through the Verdant Hollows. Only one man survived, a new low ranking adept. These were his words, as recorded by K.O.T. Nahreen:
"'Prince Sylvan led us over the titans' divide and through the verdant hollows at the cost of more than half our numbers. There, we encountered ten warriors who matched him in strength. He fell quickly, and the rest of us followed in no time. Their powers were indescribable, their forms ethereal and mythical. One appeared as a great wolf, the others I forget. I passed out before I could fully glimpse them. When I awoke, surprised to be alive, they let me go with a message: to spread word of their strength, of how quickly they dispatched our Empire's strongest commander. They gave me his head to show as proof.'
"What followed was thirty years of silence. The Emperor made no further attempts to conquer Frosthold, and only until his death did his successor launch fresh campaigns."
— K.O.T. Arryn, A Brief History of the Obsidian Empire Wars (997 AS)
JOVIAN
The Breach
The eerie silence that settled over the banquet hall was almost palpable. The news of the attack on the Verdant Hollows had sucked the air from the room, leaving a void filled only with the weight of unspoken fears.
Imperator Cato, standing at the head of the table, dismissed the gathering with a stern command. "Dismiss the banquet. Convene the war council immediately."
The grand hall, once filled with laughter and music, emptied swiftly, leaving behind only the echoes of hurried footsteps and whispered concerns. Soldiers and servants moved with purpose, and I followed my father and the council members through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, our footsteps echoing off the stone walls.
The war council room was austere, a stark contrast to the opulence of the banquet hall. A large, circular table dominated the center, covered in maps, battle plans, and strategic markers. Heavy wooden chairs, worn with age, surrounded it. Tapestries depicting Frosthold's storied past hung on the walls, their once vibrant colors dulled by time, and a large hearth crackled, casting flickering shadows around the room. Shelves lined with ancient tomes and scrolls hinted at the wealth of knowledge accumulated over the centuries.
Gaia, my grandmother, was already seated, her presence commanding respect. Though age had bowed her frame, her eyes were sharp and her mind keen. As an honorable member of the council, due to her invaluable experiences, her voice carried weight in all matters of strategy and war.
As the council members took their places, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. "The Verdant Hollows are crucial," Gaia began, her voice steady. "They are not only our primary source of food but also a vital line of defense. Losing them means more than just a tactical disadvantage; it threatens our very survival. We must reclaim them at all costs."
Murmurs of agreement filled the room. Various council members spoke in turn, offering their perspectives and concerns. General Icecroft, a commanding figure with a broad, muscular build that spoke of years of rigorous training, stood at attention. His piercing blue eyes, as cold and sharp as the icy tundras of Frosthold, surveyed his surroundings with a calculating intensity. His face was rugged, marked by a prominent scar that ran diagonally from his left temple to his jawline, a testament to fierce encounters in his past. His hair, once a deep raven black, was now streaked with silver, cropped short to prevent it from becoming a hindrance in combat. His thick, fur-lined cloak draped over his armor, both practical and symbolic of his high rank and the harsh climate of our homeland. Despite his stern exterior, there was a quiet wisdom in his gaze, reflecting the burdens and responsibilities he carried as one of Frosthold's most trusted and experienced warriors.
General Icecroft's deep voice cut through the discussions. "We cannot afford to let the Empire gain any more ground. Any further advance would be disastrous. We must strike back swiftly."
Uncle Aemilius, assuming his role as a legatus, stepped forward, his expression resolute. "I will take a contingent and meet the Empire's forces before they advance any further. My legion will join me immediately once assembled."
Imperator Cato nodded, considering his brother's decision. "And I will go to the Shiver's Edge to bolster our defenses there. It's a strategic weak point that cannot be left vulnerable."
Aemilius shook his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "No, Imperator. Let Jovian take command instead. It's time he proves himself. Is he still a pup, or is he ready to be a wolf?"
A ripple of shock ran through the room. Voices rose in protest, many council members voicing their displeasure at the idea of putting the heir in such danger. General Icecroft spoke up, his tone stern. "The princeps' safety is paramount, Legatus. We cannot risk him on the front lines."
I felt a surge of indignation. I had trained my entire life for moments like this, yet they still saw me as a child. I glanced at my father, seeing the conflict in his eyes. Imperator Cato's loyalty to his kingdom was unwavering, but so was his love for his son.
Before anyone could say more, I stepped forward, my voice firm. "I'll do it. I'll lead the defense of Shiver's Edge."
A stunned silence fell over the room as all eyes turned to me. I felt the weight of their gazes, a mixture of surprise and respect. My heart pounded, but I stood tall, meeting each of their eyes in turn until my gaze landed on my uncle's, who seems visibly amused.
My grandmother, Gaia, was the first to speak, her voice filled with a mixture of pride and concern. "If Jovian is willing, then we must trust in his strength and resolve. He is the princeps after all."
Imperator Cato nodded slowly, pride shining in his eyes. "Very well. Princeps, you will lead the defense of Shiver's Edge. We will all do our part to ensure Frosthold stands."
As the council began to discuss the details of their strategy, I felt a new sense of determination. I had earned their respect, but now I had to prove myself on the battlefield.
The weight of Frosthold's fate pressed heavily on me, but I was resolved to rise to the challenge. I would not falter or fail.