The chaos had barely settled when the masked rider vanished, his figure swallowed by the horizon. Dust hung heavy in the air, mingling with the acrid stench of burnt wood and spilled blood. The invaders, too, had retreated, leaving behind a battlefield strewn with devastation. But the creepy silence that followed was more unnerving than the battle itself—a deceptive calm, brimming with unspoken menace.
Princess Nala and her younger brother, Daniel, stood amid the wreckage, their breaths uneven as they processed the horror they had just witnessed. Before they could gather their wits, the sound of branches snapping behind them made them turn sharply. Shadows emerged from the periphery, silent, calculated, and predatory.
"Run, Daniel!" Nala cried, pushing her brother behind her.
But it was too late. Strong hands clamped over their mouths, silencing their screams. They struggled against their captors, but the attackers were strong, dragging them swiftly into the dense woods beyond the battlefield.
TRISTAN ARCHIBALD POV
(The masked rider)
Far away, I was chasing the invader who had led the assault on the Swazi Kingdom. My horse galloped through the uneven terrain, but no matter how hard I pushed, the distance between us remained unchanged. A gnawing unease crept into my chest as I realized the truth, this pursuit was a diversion, a ruse to draw attention away from something far more sinister.
I reined in my horse and scanned the horizon, my eyes narrowing as they fell on a grim sight: a broken standard bearing my empire's symbol, crudely etched and planted near the edge of the battlefield. The sight sent a surge of fury through me.
"Cowards," I spat through gritted teeth.
The implications were clear, the invaders had attacked the Swazi Kingdom in my name, using my empire's symbol to sow confusion and discord. My heart pounded as I turned my horse, heading back toward the last place I had seen Princess Nala and Daniel.
The woods were eerily quiet as I approached, the fading light casting long shadows over the dense foliage. My unease grew as I glimpsed movement ahead, two heavily armed men stood guard, their hulking figures illuminated by the dying embers of the sun. Behind them, Nala and Daniel lay unconscious on the forest floor.
"Release them," I commanded, my voice cold and sharp as steel.
The guards exchanged glances, smirking as one stepped forward. "And what if we don't, stranger? You're alone. Turn back while you still can."
I dismounted my horse, my movements slow and deliberate. "You've made a grave mistake," I said, my voice low and dangerous. My hand went to the hilt of my sword, the metal hissing as it slid free from its sheath.
Before they could react, I lunged. The clash of steel against steel shattered the stillness, reverberating through the forest. My strikes were precise, each one calculated to exploit their weaknesses. The first man fell quickly, his arrogance no match for my skill.
The second guard hesitated, fear flickering in his eyes as he watched his comrade crumple to the ground. His hesitation was fatal. With a swift, unrelenting series of strikes, I disarmed him and delivered the final blow. The forest fell silent once more, the bodies of the attackers lying motionless at my feet.
The victory brought no relief. I sheathed my sword and rushed to Nala's side, my heart clenching at the sight of her pale face. Kneeling, I brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead. Her breathing was faint but steady, and a wave of relief washed over me.
"Nala," I murmured, my voice unexpectedly soft.
Nearby, Daniel stirred, groaning as he attempted to sit up. I turned to him, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"Are you hurt?" I asked my tone firm but not unkind.
"I… I don't think so," he replied shakily, his voice barely audible.
"Good. Stand if you can."
With effort, Daniel got to his feet, swaying slightly before regaining his balance. I nodded, satisfied, then turned back to Nala. Lifting her carefully into my arms, I was struck by her fragile yet resolute appearance. There was a quiet strength in her even now, unconscious and battered. Shaking off the thought, I motioned for Daniel to follow.
We reached my horse, and I helped Daniel mount first, ensuring he was secure before handing him his sister. "Hold her tightly," I instructed, watching as he cradled her protectively.
Mounting behind them, I spurred the horse forward, the journey to safety pressing heavily on my mind. I chose a destination close by—a secluded estate in my mother's village, far from prying eyes. It was a place I trusted, a sanctuary hidden from the chaos of the world.
The journey to my mother's village unfolded in a serene hush, the rhythmic thud of the horse's hooves echoing against the dusty path. As we approached, night cloaked the landscape, and the estate emerged from the shadows like a cherished memory resurfacing from the depths of my mind. Nestled among towering trees, it exuded a tranquil allure, seemingly untouched by the chaos of the world beyond.
Compared to the grand royal palaces I was accustomed to, the estate was delightfully humble, yet it radiated an intimacy that no castle could rival. Built from rich, dark wood and sturdy stone, it seamlessly blended into the forest's embrace. Lanterns swayed gently from the eaves, casting a warm, inviting glow over the cobblestone courtyard, while a small fountain bubbled softly at its heart, contributing to the serene atmosphere.
As I dismounted, guards rushed forward, relief and curiosity etched on their faces. I handed Nala, now unconscious, to a maid who hurried out to meet us. Her fragile form was illuminated by the lantern's flicker, igniting an instinctive urge to protect her.
"Get her inside," I instructed firmly. "Prepare the guest rooms and ensure she and her brother have everything they require."
The maids bowed deeply, their movements swift and efficient. Daniel trailed closely behind me, eyes wide, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with a mix of awe and fatigue.
Stepping inside, we entered a sanctuary of calm. The air was infused with the soothing scents of lavender and herbs, a testament to my mother's affinity for natural remedies. Woven tapestries adorned the walls, each one whispering tales of ancient legends. We wandered over plush rugs that muted our footfalls, as the flicker of candlelight cast a gentle glow over the polished wooden floors.
The guest room was the grandest in the house, overlooking a stunning garden where fireflies flitted about like miniature stars. Dominating the space was a large four-poster bed, draped in soft silken sheets and thick, inviting quilts. The maids buzzed around, bringing in warm water and clean linens with an urgency that reassured me.
I stepped back, allowing them to tend to Nala, their careful hands washing away the dirt and blood that marred her skin. Despite her pale complexion, there was a quiet resilience about her that captivated me. After they treated her wounds and tucked her into bed, one of the maids turned to me, her expression earnest.
"She'll be okay, my lord," she whispered. "All she needs is rest and nourishment."
I nodded, my gaze lingering on Nala before shifting to Daniel. He sat by her bedside, his small frame engulfed by the ornate chair, gripping her hand as if terrified she might vanish.
"She's going to be fine," I assured him, my voice softer than I intended. "You're both safe here."
Tears brimmed in Daniel's eyes as he looked up at me, his whispered "Thank you" holding a depth of gratitude that touched me profoundly.
After ensuring they were in the maids' capable hands, I withdrew into the corridor, beckoning one of the guards to follow. "Double the patrols around the estate," I commanded. "We must stay vigilant."
The guard bowed and hurried off to execute my orders. I lingered by a window, my gaze drifting to the garden below. Moonlight bathed the flowers in a delicate glow, their petals swaying gently in the cool night breeze. This place, once a refuge for my mother, now felt like a fragile shield against the turmoil that lurked outside.
Eventually, I found myself drawn back to the guest room, unable to resist the pull of the scene within. Nala lay still, her breath even but shallow, while Daniel had succumbed to sleep in the chair, his head resting on the edge of the bed. A bittersweet mix of guilt and responsibility stirred within me as I observed them.
I quietly moved to the opposite side of the bed and pulled up a chair, settling in beside them. The flickering candles cast gentle shadows across Nala's face, accentuating her delicate features. Even in slumber, she radiated a quiet strength that suggested she wouldn't easily succumb to despair.
With a thoughtful gesture, I draped a blanket over Daniel without waking him, then leaned back in my chair, my hand resting on the hilt of my sword, a reassurance beneath the calm.
Although the estate felt secure, I knew better than to lower my guard. Whoever had orchestrated the attack on the Swazi Kingdom would inevitably return, and when they did, I would be ready.
For now, this sanctuary served as a brief respite from the whirlwind of chaos, a haven amid the storm.