King Robin Amber leaned back in his grand chair, a wicked smile curling at the corners of his mouth as he relished the news. The grand hall of his castle echoed with his laughter, a sound that sent chills through the hearts of those unfortunate enough to hear it. His pale blue eyes, sharp and cold, gleamed with malicious delight as the words repeated in his mind: The dog's wife is dead.
"Is it true?" he asked, his voice smooth and almost gentle, as if he were inquiring about the weather.
The spymaster, a hunched figure cloaked in shadow, nodded, his lips twisted in a smile that mirrored his master's. "Indeed, my lord. The attack was successful. The woman is dead, and their precious village is left in mourning."
King Robin chuckled, a low, satisfied sound that rumbled deep in his chest. "Excellent. It seems the dog has finally learned what it means to cross me." He paused, savoring the moment before continuing. "How did she die?"
"A blade to the heart," the spymaster replied. "Quick and clean, just as you ordered."
Robin leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "And how did the dog take it?"
"He is devastated, of course. They say he wept over her body, unable to comprehend the loss. But..." The spymaster hesitated, and Robin's eyes narrowed.
"But what?" he demanded.
The spymaster cleared his throat. "But he has not given up, my lord. In fact, it seems this tragedy has only strengthened his resolve. He is preparing his army even as we speak."
Robin's smile faltered for a moment, but then he waved his hand dismissively. "Let him prepare. It will do him no good. When the time comes, I will crush him and his pathetic little kingdom beneath my boot. I allowed him to play his little game for too long, and now it is time to end it. This time, there will be no survivors."
He stood, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the hall. "Begin preparations. I want my armies ready to march at my command. And send a message to our allies. It's time they fulfilled their promises."
The spymaster bowed deeply. "As you command, my lord."
Robin watched as the man scurried away, his mind already turning to thoughts of battle. He could almost see it—the walls of Haven crumbling under the might of his forces, the once-proud villagers begging for mercy at his feet. And then, at the center of it all, Brandon, beaten and broken, finally realizing the futility of his defiance.
Robin's smile returned, wider and crueler than before. "Soon," he whispered to himself. "Soon, this will all be over."
The news of Elysande's death had spread through Haven like wildfire, leaving a trail of grief and anger in its wake. Brandon could feel the weight of their sorrow pressing down on him, a heavy burden that threatened to crush him under its relentless force. But he couldn't allow himself to succumb to it—not now, not when his people needed him the most.
Standing on the edge of the village, Brandon looked out at the land that had become his home. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the fields and forests that surrounded Haven. It was beautiful, peaceful even, and for a moment, he allowed himself to forget the pain that gnawed at his heart.
But the moment was fleeting, and the reality of his situation came crashing back with brutal clarity. Elysande was dead, taken from him in an act of cruelty that he could never forgive. He had lost the woman he loved, the mother of his children, and nothing he could do would bring her back.
But he could avenge her.
Brandon clenched his fists, feeling the rough leather of his gloves bite into his skin. He had tried to build something good here, something lasting, but King Robin had torn it all away. The peace they had worked so hard to achieve was shattered, and now, there was only one path left to him.
War.
Turning away from the horizon, Brandon walked back toward the village. His footsteps were heavy, each one echoing in his ears like the tolling of a bell. His thoughts were a whirlwind of memories—Elysande's smile, her laugh, the way she had looked at him with such love and trust. And now she was gone, leaving behind a void that nothing could fill.
He couldn't allow himself to dwell on the pain, not when there was so much at stake. His people were counting on him, and he couldn't afford to let them down. He had to be strong, for them, for his children, for Elysande.
As he approached the village, he could see the signs of preparation everywhere. Men and women alike were sharpening weapons, mending armor, and gathering supplies. The air was thick with tension, a palpable sense of urgency that hung over them all like a storm cloud.
Brandon's mind was already racing ahead, planning and strategizing, but his heart was heavy with grief. He had never wanted this—never wanted to lead his people into war. But King Robin had left him no choice.
As he walked through the village, he could feel the eyes of his people on him. They looked to him for guidance, for hope, and he could see the fear and uncertainty in their faces. But he could also see something else—something that gave him the strength to keep going.
Determination.
They were ready to fight, ready to defend their home and their way of life. And Brandon knew that he had to be the one to lead them.
He made his way to the small house that had become his home. Inside, his children were gathered, their faces pale and drawn with worry. Eidrick, the eldest, stood with his back straight, trying to put on a brave face for his younger siblings. But Brandon could see the fear in his eyes, the pain of losing his mother still fresh and raw.
Brandon knelt down in front of them, pulling them close. "We're going to get through this," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. "I promise you, we're going to be okay."
Eidrick nodded, his jaw clenched with determination. "We'll make them pay, Father. For Mother."
Brandon's heart ached at the words, but he couldn't bring himself to disagree. "Yes," he said quietly. "We will."
The younger children were too young to fully understand what was happening, but they clung to him, seeking comfort in his presence. Brandon held them close, feeling the weight of their small bodies against him. This was what he was fighting for—his family, his people, his home.
He couldn't afford to fail.
After a long moment, he stood, gently releasing his children. "I have to go," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "There's work to be done."
Eidrick nodded again, his expression serious. "We'll be here, Father. We'll be waiting."
Brandon forced a smile, ruffling his son's hair. "I know you will. And I'll be back soon. I promise."
He turned and left the house, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he might not be able to keep that promise. But he couldn't let himself dwell on that now. There was too much at stake, too much to lose.
Outside, the preparations were continuing in earnest. The villagers were working together, their fear tempered by a shared determination to protect what was theirs. Brandon watched them for a moment, feeling a surge of pride for these people who had become his family.
He knew that they would follow him into battle, that they would fight with everything they had. And he knew that he couldn't let them down.
Taking a deep breath, Brandon walked to where his advisors were gathered. They looked up as he approached, their faces grim but resolute.
"It's time," he said simply.
The advisors nodded, and they began to discuss their strategy, their plans for the battle that was surely coming. Brandon listened carefully, his mind focused on the task at hand. There was no room for doubt, no room for hesitation.
This was the moment they had been preparing for, the moment that would determine their future. And Brandon knew that he had to be ready.
As the discussions continued, Brandon couldn't help but think of Elysande, of the life they had shared, and of the future they had hoped to build together. But that future was gone now, taken from him in a cruel twist of fate.
All that was left was the fight.
And Brandon was ready for it.
King Robin Amber had no idea of the fire he had ignited in Brandon's heart. He had no idea of the resolve that had been forged in the flames of grief and loss. And he had no idea of the battle that was coming, a battle that would shake the very foundations of his kingdom.
But he would learn.
Soon enough, he would learn.