In the castle of Vaermore, the atmosphere was heavy with tension. The ancient walls, draped in luxurious tapestries, seemed to absorb the weight of the discussion unfolding in the grand council hall. Lady Cerys sat at the head of the long oak table, her green eyes gleaming with calculated intensity, while the members of her council waited anxiously.
— Gentlemen — began Cerys, her voice as sharp as a blade — now that the world knows Aemon Volcrist is alive, we must prepare for the inevitable repercussions. This news will undoubtedly reach the ears of the king of Volcrist, and we need to be ready.
One of the council members, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a worried expression, stood with a frown.
— My lady, the news of Aemon's survival could ruin our plans. If the king finds out before Cedric's coronation, he might reclaim his throne. The resistance will be fierce. We must delay the coronation and reconsider our moves!
Lady Cerys fixed her gaze on the councilor, her expression unreadable. She let the silence linger for a moment, watching the discomfort grow among the gathered men, before responding with an icy tone:
— Delay the coronation? Do you not understand? We are one day away from Cedric's coronation, and the army we've gathered to seize the throne is already at the castle's doorstep. Vaermore, along with the other subdomains, is ready to act. If we retreat now, there will be no second chance.
Another councilor, a young strategist with a serious expression, cautiously intervened:
— But, Lady Cerys, with Aemon alive, alliances may shift. He is the rightful heir of Volcrist. The subdomains may reconsider their support. What will we do if the army of Volcrist marches against us?
Cerys clenched her fists, her eyes now burning with determination and suppressed rage. She stood slowly, her presence dominating the room, and answered with cold calculation:
— Do not underestimate the power of Vaermore. Aemon may be alive, but he is weak and far from the throne. Cedric is the one destined to rule. The question now isn't if we will fight, but how we will win. The subdomains are already committed to us, and any hesitation will only show weakness.
She scanned the table, daring anyone to challenge her.
— The king of Volcrist may learn of Aemon's existence, but it changes nothing. Tomorrow, Cedric will be crowned, and Vaermore's army will march, as planned. If the king wants to contest this, so be it. But he will face a force he never anticipated.
The councilors exchanged nervous glances, fully aware of the gravity of the situation. The young strategist took a deep breath, still harboring doubts in his gaze, but nodded in agreement.
— If that is your wish, Lady Cerys, then we will prepare for the confrontation. But know that the consequences will be significant.
Lady Cerys simply nodded, her gaze unwavering. The decision was made. Cedric would be crowned, and Vaermore would march. The fate of Volcrist would soon be decided, and nothing, not even Aemon's revelation, would alter the course Cerys had set.
The council was dismissed, but the tension lingered in the air as Lady Cerys retreated to her chambers, her thoughts revolving around the battle to come. She knew the future was uncertain, but she was determined to do whatever it took to ensure Vaermore emerged victorious, no matter the cost.
Under the dark, starry sky, the stillness of the early morning was broken by a silent presence entering the small cabin where Aemon rested. Lilith, with light and determined steps, approached him. Her eyes, usually cold and calculating, were filled with an unusual urgency.
— Aemon — she whispered, gently touching his shoulder.
Aemon opened his eyes, still confused from the interrupted sleep, and looked at Lilith with a disoriented expression.
— What's happening? — he asked, trying to orient himself in the darkness.
Lilith hesitated for a brief moment, knowing that the next words would change the course of their actions.
— We need to hurry — she said, keeping her voice low but firm. — We don't have time. Cedric will be crowned tomorrow.
Aemon, still shaking off the remnants of sleep, felt a wave of tension course through his body. He quickly sat up, now fully awake, facing Lilith with a mixture of surprise and urgency.
— Tomorrow? — he repeated, incredulous. — But… what about Volcrist? What about the throne?
Lilith, sensing his confusion, tried to explain as quickly as possible.
— Because of your absence, they presumed you were dead or unable to claim your right. Cedric has taken advantage of that. If we don't reach Volcrist before the coronation, it'll be too late to contest it. We need to find the egg, the key to your true power, and head to Volcrist immediately.
Aemon's heart raced. The thought of Cedric taking the throne, usurping what was rightfully his, filled him with a quiet rage but also fierce determination. He knew Lilith was right; there was no time to lose.
— We need to go now — Aemon declared, his voice filled with resolve as he stood up and began gathering his belongings.
Lilith watched him, noticing the change in his posture. Aemon was no longer the young warrior who had fought in the arena; he was becoming something more, someone who finally understood the weight of the burden he carried.
As he adjusted his weapons and checked the map, Lilith stepped closer, her face reflecting both concern and hope.
— The map will lead us to the egg. It's hidden in a place few know. But if we move quickly, we can reach it before dawn and, hopefully, make it to Volcrist before Cedric is crowned.
Aemon, now fully armed and focused, looked at Lilith with a determined nod.
— Let's finish this. Cedric won't sit on the throne as long as I'm alive.
With that, they set off, following the map's direction, leaving behind the silence of the early morning and plunging into the darkness of the forest, determined to reclaim what was rightfully Aemon's and prevent Cedric from taking the throne of Volcrist.
Aemon and Lilith, still weary from their battles and racing against time, approached the cave where the legendary egg was said to be hidden. As they moved along the path, they were startled by the sight of an army. Mounted on horses, with others on foot, the soldiers formed a formidable force.
— What is this? — Aemon whispered, both confused and worried.
Lilith, her expression stern, grabbed Aemon's arm and started running toward the cave.
— We don't have time to waste, Aemon. It all makes sense now. Lady Cerys used the tournament as a distraction to recruit men for her army. She and the other subdomains won't accept Cedric on the throne. They plan to seize power.
Aemon's mind raced as he grasped the situation. If they failed, a coup would be inevitable, and the kingdom would plunge into chaos. Without hesitation, he quickened his pace, determined to reach the cave before it was too late. Every second mattered, and the cave became their only hope to prevent catastrophe.