The Beginning of Fianna's Saga: Alliance with Faelorn
After feeling that her position in Lysanthor was becoming increasingly irrelevant and ignored by her father, Fianna decided to act on her own. She felt a mix of humiliation and frustration after her last encounter with Aemon, and the desire to destroy Volcrist grew within her. Fianna knew that, in order to bring down Volcrist, she would need a powerful ally, and the name that came to her mind was clear: Faelorn, Volcrist's greatest enemy.
On a cold night, isolated from everyone and hidden within the depths of her chambers, Fianna carefully penned a letter. The language was polished, seductive, and at the same time, cold and calculated. She proposed an alliance with Faelorn, offering valuable information about Volcrist's weaknesses, without mentioning specific names or revealing details that could compromise her position too soon.
When the letter was complete, Fianna stood up and walked to a small window at the top of the tower. An eagle, trained to serve her since childhood, landed on her arm, ready to begin its journey. She tied the message to the eagle's leg and whispered:
— Go to Faelorn, deliver my proposal to the king... and make sure he knows there is more to gain than just an alliance.
The eagle soared into the night, cutting through the dark sky toward Volcrist's enemy.
Days later, Fianna's eagle arrived in the kingdom of Faelorn. In the grand hall, King Marek of Faelorn watched with curiosity as the messenger handed him the letter. He opened it slowly, and as his eyes scanned the words, a cruel smile formed on his face.
— Interesting, the king said. — The princess of Lysanthor, offering her loyalty... and more.
One of his advisors, suspicious, asked:
— Could this be a trap? Lysanthor is weak, but this sudden offer seems risky.
Marek, the king, shook his head slowly, his eyes gleaming with an idea.
— Whether it's a trap or not, we can use this to our advantage. If the princess is willing to betray her own blood, we can exploit that weakness. We will respond to her... but cautiously.
In the kingdom of Lysanthor, Fianna was increasingly consumed by anxiety about her position as heir. Though she was the daughter of Reynard, the King of Lysanthor, she felt her presence in the kingdom was becoming more and more overlooked, and her accomplishments, nonexistent. The power struggles around her were intensifying, and Fianna knew she had to act quickly to secure her place, or she would be forgotten.
After two days of unsettling silence, Fianna finally heard the familiar beating of wings at her window. The eagle had returned. Anxiously, she untied the small scroll from the bird's leg, her hands slightly trembling as she opened the letter.
The answer was there.
The Prince of Faelorn had accepted the meeting.
Surprised by Faelorn's swift reply, Fianna wasted no time. The chance to finally act as a true heir to the throne was right in front of her. Silently packing her things, she knew she could trust no one, not even her most loyal servants. Every move had to be cautious and discreet.
That very night, dressed in a black cloak to blend into the darkness, Fianna slipped through the corridors of Lysanthor's castle. Her footsteps echoed faintly through the empty halls until she reached the hidden entrance to the emergency tunnels, an ancient passage used only in times of war or desperation. She hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath. She had never left the domain without the protection of guards or the oversight of her advisors.
Now she was alone.
Doubt began to creep into her thoughts. What if it was all a trap? What if she was captured by spies or enemies before even reaching Faelorn? But at the same time, Fianna felt something different, something new: a faint whisper of freedom. Perhaps this was the first time she was making a decision on her own, far from her father's reins or Valanthar's control. She was acting as the brave princess she always wanted to be, risking everything for her future and, perhaps, for the destruction of Volcrist.
As she walked through the cold, damp tunnels, her loose red hair, glowing in the dim light, seemed to illuminate the darkness around her, as if she carried within her the flame of a powerful destiny. Her eyes, once filled with doubt, now began to shine with determination. If this journey was the first step toward her rise, she could not fail.
Fianna felt that, for the first time, she was truly maturing. Every step toward the tunnel's exit brought her closer to her future, and further from her father's shadow.
Now, everything depended on her.
As Fianna's caravan approached the borders of Faelorn, the full moon hung above, casting a pale light over the road. The princess, despite the growing tension, observed her surroundings attentively. The ancient trees lining the path seemed to form an imposing wall, casting sinister shadows that danced with the movement of the horses. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of pine and a faint hint of damp earth, as if a storm were looming.
Suddenly, without warning, the caravan came to a halt. From the darkness, imposing figures appeared, mounted on black horses. Their eyes gleamed beneath dark metal helmets, while their armor, a deep black as the night itself, reflected only the minimal light from the torches they carried. The guards of Faelorn, in complete silence, surrounded Fianna's group with unsettling precision. One of the tallest knights, bearing an unknown crest on his chest, dismounted and walked toward her.
— Princess Fianna of Lysanthor? — His voice was cold and formal, devoid of emotion.
Fianna nodded her head, trying to hide her apprehension.
— Please, enter the carriage, milady. By order of the King of Faelorn, we must ensure your safety to the castle.
She hesitated for a brief moment, but knew there was no other option. Her mind was racing, imagining a thousand possibilities of what might happen. With a slight gesture, she dismounted and entered the offered carriage. The doors closed with a sharp sound, isolating her from the outside world.
Inside, as the carriage began to move, Fianna felt the soft vibrations of the vehicle crossing the stone path. The interior was luxurious, with dark red velvet cushions, but it brought no comfort to the princess's mind. She looked out the small window, watching the dark forests and vast fields of Faelorn pass by like shadows at the edge of her vision. The now colder wind blew through the cracks, making her pull the cloak tighter around her.
A whirlwind of emotions flooded Fianna. Fear and anticipation mingled, her heart beating faster with each mile. What awaited her in the future? How would she be received in Faelorn? Her plan was bold but dangerous. Was she capable of manipulating the rulers of an enemy kingdom? Or was she walking toward her own ruin?
The carriage wheels resonated on the uneven ground, and the sound seemed to merge with the restless thoughts haunting her mind. The future was uncertain, but one thing was clear: Fianna was about to enter a game of power, and any wrong move could be fatal.