The air was dense, sand swirling in the wind. In a yellow desert bathed by the red hues of the afternoon sun, a hooded figure galloped on a horse, heading toward the fiefdom of Arok, where Arthur, Kael, and the others lived. A message of impending doom was on its way to Arok.
The sky had already darkened, and a white light pierced through the clouds, reaching the small village. Arthur was engaged in his daily playtime with his friends.
Arthur and his friends had gathered in the vast clearing near the river—the perfect place for a game of tag.
"I'm starting as the tagger!" announced Luiz with a mischievous grin, already rubbing his hands as if plotting something evil.
"Of course you are," Keila replied, rolling her eyes. "You're the only one who enjoys running around endlessly."
"Watch out, because I'll catch everyone fast!" Luiz declared, beginning to count with his eyes closed as the others scattered.
Arthur darted toward the old oak tree by the river, with Kayan close behind.
"You know he'll come after you first, right?" Kayan asked, panting as he tried to keep up with his friend.
"Let him try!" Arthur replied with a defiant grin. "I'm faster!"
Meanwhile, Keila had climbed atop a haystack, laughing from above as if she were untouchable.
"Are you serious, Keila?" shouted Marcos, who was hiding behind a nearby barrel. "This isn't hide-and-seek!"
"It's strategy, my dear," she responded, waving. "If he wants to tag me, he'll have to climb up here!"
Luiz opened his eyes after finishing his count and spun around quickly to survey the terrain. He spotted Maria, who was attempting to hide behind a tree far too thin to conceal her.
"Found you, Maria!" Luiz shouted, charging in her direction.
Maria let out a surprised squeal and ran in circles but was soon tagged, laughing and surrendering without resistance.
"Now you're my helper!" Luiz announced. "Help me catch the others!"
Arthur watched the scene from a distance, chuckling, but his amusement was interrupted by a whisper from Kayan:
"He's coming this way, Arthur."
"Good. Let him try."
Arthur waited until Luiz and Maria approached, then, with an agile leap, bolted toward the river. He knew this was his moment to shine. With impressive speed, he dodged Luiz and, upon reaching the riverbank, pretended to jump into the water.
"He's not going to jump, is he?" Luiz shouted, hesitating for a moment.
It was all Arthur needed. With a sharp turn, he sprinted in the opposite direction, escaping the ambush.
"You're too fast, Arthur!" Luiz shouted, frustrated but laughing.
As the game continued, Keila climbed down from the haystack, and Carlos, who had spent most of the time "planning" the best escape route, ended up tripping and getting caught. Marcos, on the other hand, managed to stay hidden until the end, leaving Luiz and Maria defeated.
"I told you it was impossible to catch everyone quickly!" Keila teased, throwing a handful of hay at Luiz.
Arthur just laughed, panting, feeling his heart racing. Moments like these with his friends were his greatest treasure.
The next day, the sharp morning wind carried an omen of misfortune as a panting horse crossed the village gates. The messenger, a pale young man with wide, terrified eyes, dismounted hastily and ran to the stone manor at the center of the village, where the lord, Aldrin Vorn, resided. The hurried sound of his boots echoed through the dirt streets as villagers watched with concern.
Inside the manor's audience chamber, Aldrin, the village's leader, stood beside a large oak table, his thick fingers drumming on a detailed map of the region. He was discussing harvest strategies with his advisors when the door burst open. The young messenger stumbled in, sweat dripping from his forehead as he tried to catch his breath.
"My lord!" he gasped, kneeling. "Urgent news... Ezryn is on the march..."
The air in the room seemed to freeze. Aldrin narrowed his eyes, his fists clenching on the table. "Speak clearly, boy," he commanded, his deep voice laden with authority. "How many? Where? When?"
The messenger swallowed hard, struggling to organize his words. "An advanced detachment... They've already crossed the northern hills. They're less than a day away, burning everything in their path. The attack... is imminent."
The advisors began murmuring among themselves, their voices filled with worry and fear. Aldrin raised his hand, silencing them instantly. He approached the messenger, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "You did well to bring this news quickly. Go to the stables, rest, and feed your horse. I'll need you again soon."
The young man nodded and left, leaving the room in tense silence. Aldrin turned to his advisors, his expression now as rigid as stone.
"Gather every man who can fight," he ordered. "Kael Grimm must be informed immediately. Send word to the neighboring villages requesting reinforcements, but do not expect miracles. If Ezryn is coming, we'll fight with what we have."
"But, my lord," one of the advisors said, his voice trembling, "they are many... Our militia is made up of farmers and blacksmiths. How can we resist?"
Aldrin approached the man, his eyes like sharp blades. "If Ezryn catches us unprepared, no one will survive. Not you, not your family. Do you prefer to die on your knees or with a sword in your hand?"
The advisor swallowed hard but nodded, knowing there was no choice. Aldrin looked at the map one last time before turning and marching out of the room, his firm steps echoing through the halls. He knew the battle ahead was not about victory or defeat but survival.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the village, Arthur trained with Kael in the small field beside the blacksmith's house. The metallic clang of wooden swords clashing echoed through the area as Kael, despite his advanced age, demonstrated impressive dexterity.
"Come on, boy, raise your guard!" Kael shouted, forcing Arthur to retreat with quick strikes. "You won't want to lower your guard against a real enemy."
Arthur, sweating and panting, stepped back, raising his sword and blocking the next attack. "I'm trying, master!"
"Don't try. Do it!" Kael replied, pressing him even harder.
After training, it was late at night. Kael Grimm, sitting in his small wooden cabin, sharpened his old sword. The blade, though aged, still gleamed as a reflection of his days of glory. His tired eyes stared at the metallic edge, but his mind wandered, immersed in memories he preferred to forget.
A knock at the door brought him back to reality. He stood, his hand instinctively moving to the sword's hilt.
"Come in," he said, his voice rough.
It was a messenger from Aldrin, sweaty and panting, clearly worn from the urgency.
"Kael... urgent news. Ezryn is marching here. Aldrin orders all able men to assemble immediately."
Kael sighed as if he'd been expecting this. "How much time do we have?"
"Less than a day. They're burning everything in their path."
The old warrior nodded. "Tell Aldrin I'll be there at dawn. But also tell him this will be a massacre. He knows it."
The messenger hesitated but dared not question him. He merely nodded and left.
Kael closed the door and returned to his chair. He spent a few minutes in silence before murmuring to himself, "The past always finds a way to catch up to us."
Elsewhere in the village, Aldrin was restless. The audience chamber had become an improvised strategy center. The scouts he had sent north had not returned, and he feared the worst.
As dawn broke, the distant sound of drums echoed.
Arthur was awakened by shouts from the street. He ran to the window and saw villagers running back and forth, carrying belongings and makeshift weapons.
"Arthur, stay inside!" Rowan ordered as he walked out the door, carrying an axe.
"What's going on, Father?"
"Ezryn is coming," Rowan replied with a worried expression.
Their troops bore dark armor with a dragon emblazoned on their chest plates. They showed no mercy, killing, burning, and destroying everything in their path, like demons.
Kael was already clad in his armor—white with golden accents and a golden dragon on its chest, contrasting with the white. It was the armor he wore as a warrior of Acadia. He was known as the Lion Knight for his bravery on the battlefield.
Aldrin, the lord, had also once been a warrior of Acadia. Unlike Kael, however, he was the army's strategist and did not fight on the front lines.