The gates of Sunhold were crowded as Rylan rode into the castle's outer yard, where soldiers moved with hurried purpose, their faces tense with the weight of recent news. Rumors of Drakkenfell's advance had spread quickly, but now they had something more: the knowledge that Eryndor's forces, bolstered by Va'Korin's wild strength, had won the first skirmish. Rylan could see the curiosity and uncertainty in the soldiers' eyes as they looked at him, some murmuring as he passed. He felt the weight of their expectations and quickened his pace toward the inner keep.
When he dismounted, a familiar figure appeared in the courtyard: Captain Aldric, his expression grim yet brightening at the sight of Rylan. Aldric's steel-gray eyes held a rare gleam of pride.
"Rylan, you've returned," he said, clasping Rylan's arm with a firm grip. "We heard about the battle and the Va'Korin's strength. It seems your alliance is already proving its worth."
Rylan nodded, feeling a swell of pride mixed with exhaustion. "The Va'Korin stood with us, Captain. They fought bravely, and together, we were able to repel Drakkenfell's forces. The northern border is secure… for now."
Aldric's jaw tightened. "Good. Lady Aria has been preparing for your return. She wants to hear every detail. There's little time to waste."
Rylan followed Aldric into the stone halls, weaving through courtiers, messengers, and officers who bustled with an air of urgency that bordered on panic. The past few days had clearly taken their toll, and with Drakkenfell's forces creeping closer, the entire kingdom seemed on edge. Rylan's steps were heavy, the weight of battle and his newfound responsibilities pressing on him.
At last, they reached the war council chamber, its large double doors guarded by two knights who nodded in recognition as he passed. Lady Aria stood at the far end of the chamber, surrounded by her commanders. She turned as they entered, and Rylan saw relief flash in her eyes, a subtle softening of her otherwise commanding presence.
"Rylan," she greeted, her voice steady yet warm. "You return with news of a victory, and for that, Eryndor is grateful."
He bowed, feeling the honor of her words. "Lady Aria, the Va'Korin warriors fought with us as true allies. Together, we drove back Drakkenfell's forces, including a summoned dragon spirit. The Va'Korin shamans called upon their own spirits, and with their help, we broke the fire spirit's hold over the battlefield."
A murmur of surprise and approval rippled through the council. Lord Eamon, the grizzled veteran commander who had once voiced skepticism over the Va'Korin alliance, raised a brow, a grudging respect in his eyes. "Seems the Va'Korin bring more to this alliance than just their warriors. They bring strength we've never seen on our battlefields."
Lady Aria nodded, her expression thoughtful. "The Va'Korin are more than warriors; they are guardians of a magic as ancient as our own. And now, their spirits fight alongside ours. This is no small alliance you've forged, Rylan."
Rylan felt his chest tighten with both pride and the sense of responsibility growing heavier with each acknowledgment. "Thank you, my lady. But Drakkenfell's forces will return, likely stronger and more determined. The sorcerers may attempt other magic, perhaps something even darker, to break through our defenses."
Lady Aria's gaze hardened, her eyes a steely blue. "Then we will be ready. With the Va'Korin's aid in the north, we can focus our efforts on fortifying the eastern front. But we need to ensure that Drakkenfell does not sway our allies from within. There are whispers of sympathizers, those who believe Drakkenfell's rule would benefit them. We need to root out any threats from within before they weaken us."
Rylan's brows knitted in concern. "Sympathizers? Here in Sunhold?"
"Indeed," Lady Aria said grimly. "We have had reports—anonymous letters, intercepted messages. Nothing concrete, but enough to raise suspicion. It seems some see Drakkenfell's strength and think it safer to surrender than resist. They forget that the Iron Empire is merciless; loyalty means nothing to them."
Aldric's mouth set in a hard line. "If there are sympathizers, they could sabotage our efforts from within, or worse, provide Drakkenfell with crucial intelligence. We'll need to investigate quietly."
Lady Aria nodded, her eyes flicking to Rylan. "Rylan, you know the borders well. I want you to remain vigilant here in Sunhold, watching for any signs of unusual behavior or suspicious activity. You'll have a dual role now—liaison to the Va'Korin and protector within these walls."
The weight of her words settled on him. This new mission was different from the open warfare he had fought in the wildlands; this would require subtlety, caution, and vigilance. But he nodded, accepting the task. "I understand, my lady. I'll do what's necessary."
Aria's gaze softened, her voice dropping to a quieter tone. "You've already proven yourself capable, Rylan. Eryndor stands stronger today because of your bravery. We are proud to have you among us."
Rylan felt the honor in her words settle over him, a sense of belonging he hadn't realized he'd been searching for until now. He met her gaze, his voice steady. "Thank you, Lady Aria. I will not let you down."
With a final nod, she dismissed the council, her commanders departing one by one, leaving only Aldric and Rylan. The captain turned to him, a rare smile touching his lips. "Seems you've earned a place among us, Rylan. I don't doubt you'll handle this new task well. Just remember, some threats are closer than they appear."
He gave Rylan a firm pat on the shoulder before turning to leave, his armor clinking softly as he disappeared down the hall.
As night fell over Sunhold, Rylan walked the castle grounds, observing the quiet tension in every shadowed corner. The fortress walls loomed tall and silent, guarding secrets as well as soldiers. The feeling of something unseen pressing on him grew, as if the very air held whispers he couldn't quite hear.
The Va'Korin pendant around his neck seemed to pulse with a faint warmth, a reassuring presence in the dark. He remembered the shaman's words, the weight of the bond he now carried. The Va'Korin had trusted him, given him a place among them, and he would honor that trust here, even amid the unknown shadows of Sunhold.
As he passed a quiet alcove near the armory, he caught sight of a figure slipping away into the deeper shadows. Curious, he followed, careful to keep his steps light and his presence unnoticed. The figure—a slender man with a dark cloak—moved through the narrow corridors, pausing occasionally as if checking to see if he was alone.
Rylan's instincts tingled. This was no ordinary movement, no simple soldier on an errand. He kept a steady distance, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger as he followed the man down a narrow staircase that led into the lower levels of the castle.
The air grew colder, thick with the smell of damp stone as they descended. Rylan kept his steps light, careful to stay out of sight as the man slipped into a small, dimly lit chamber. Rylan hesitated, pressing himself against the wall to avoid detection as he listened.
Inside, the man spoke in a low voice, his tone urgent and conspiratorial. "Our contact within Drakkenfell says the next assault is imminent. We need to weaken Eryndor from within, or we'll lose our chance."
A second voice replied, this one rougher, with a sharp edge. "Then we'll act soon. The eastern front's defenses are strong, but if we sabotage the supply lines, they'll weaken fast. Drakkenfell's soldiers won't have to fight as hard."
Rylan's blood ran cold. Sabotage within Sunhold itself. The sympathizers were more than mere rumors—they were organized, intent on compromising Eryndor's defenses for Drakkenfell's benefit.
He took a step back, intending to leave and alert Lady Aria or Captain Aldric, but his boot scraped against the stone floor. The sound was small, barely audible, but enough for the men inside to hear. There was a sudden silence, then quick footsteps.
"Someone's here!" one of the voices hissed.
Rylan cursed under his breath and turned to sprint back up the stairs, but the men were faster than he'd expected, already bursting from the chamber and giving chase. He bolted up the winding staircase, his feet pounding against the steps as he raced toward the upper levels.
As he reached the main hall, one of the men lunged forward, grabbing his cloak and jerking him back. Rylan twisted, drawing his dagger, and slashed, forcing the man to release his grip with a pained shout. He broke free, dashing into the main corridor, where a group of guards were on patrol.
"Stop them!" Rylan shouted, pointing at the two men behind him. "They're Drakkenfell spies!"
The guards sprang into action, their swords drawn as they intercepted the men, who struggled and fought but were quickly subdued. Rylan approached, his breathing hard, as the guards restrained the men and led them away.
A familiar voice cut through the commotion. "Rylan?"
He turned to see Lady Aria, her expression unreadable but her gaze sharp with a mixture of concern and interest. She stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene.
"Rylan, explain."
"These men," he said, still catching his breath, "were conspiring to sabotage our supply lines. I overheard them in the lower levels—they're working with Drakkenfell."
Aria's eyes flashed, a dangerous glint lighting her gaze. "Well done, Rylan. Your vigilance has saved us from a grave threat."
She looked at the guards. "Take them to the dungeons. They will answer for their actions soon enough."
As the guards led the prisoners away, Lady Aria turned back to Rylan, her expression softening with gratitude. "You've done more than we could have asked, Rylan. Eryndor is in your debt."
Rylan bowed, feeling the lingering tension in his muscles finally ease. "I'm honored to serve, Lady Aria."
She nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You have earned your place here, Rylan of Tressam. And in the days to come, I suspect we will rely on your courage and loyalty more than ever."
As she walked away, Rylan stood alone in the torch-lit hall, the gravity of his role settling over him with a new weight. He had defended Sunhold from threats within its very walls, but he knew the battles ahead would be more complex, more insidious.
He was Rylan of Tressam, a scout, a warrior, and now, a guardian of Eryndor. And as he walked the quiet halls, his steps filled with a new determination, he knew that whatever lay ahead, he would stand ready to face it.