Scene 1: The Journey to Aedralis
The forest path was quiet, save for the rhythmic clinking of armor and the occasional snap of a branch underfoot. Elliotte and Christopher walked in the center of the formation, their wrists bound by the enchanted manacles—sleek silver cuffs etched with glowing runes that suppressed their magic. The cold metal bit into Elliotte's skin, a constant reminder of their helplessness.
Elliotte glanced at Rose, who walked ahead with Commander Alden. Her posture was rigid, her gaze fixed straight ahead, refusing to meet his eyes. He leaned forward slightly, his voice low but urgent.
"Rose," he called, his tone pleading. "You said we were on the same side. You said you'd help us."
She didn't turn. Her grip tightened on her staff, but she remained silent.
"Hey, princess," Christopher chimed in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You gonna ignore us the whole way, or are you just too good to talk to prisoners now?"
One of the guards jabbed the butt of his spear into Christopher's back, forcing him to stumble forward. "Keep it down," the guard growled. "Unless you want to reach the kingdom in pieces."
Christopher shot the guard a venomous glare but said nothing. His usual bravado was replaced by an uncharacteristic silence, his jaw clenched tight. Elliotte noticed the tension in his friend's shoulders and leaned closer.
"Christopher," he whispered, "are you—"
"Not now," Christopher interrupted, his voice low and sharp. His eyes darted to the guards, a silent warning to Elliotte.
Elliotte nodded, understanding. For now, they had no choice but to play along.
Scene 2: The Kingdom of Aedralis
As they crossed the border into Aedralis, Elliotte's breath caught in his throat. The kingdom was unlike anything he had ever seen.
The streets were alive with color and energy, bustling with people who moved with a sense of freedom and purpose. Magic was everywhere—children floated in the air, laughing as they splashed water at each other with glowing hands. Farmers waved their hands over fields, coaxing water from the earth to nourish their crops. Blacksmiths hammered molten metal, their rings glowing faintly as they enhanced their strength.
Elliotte couldn't help but stare, his admiration momentarily overshadowing his fear. "It's incredible," he murmured. "They use magic so freely here."
Christopher snorted, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity. "Yeah, well, don't get too excited. We're still prisoners, remember?"
Their admiration was short-lived as the group approached the towering gates of the royal castle. The guards at the entrance straightened, their spears clinking against the stone floor as they saluted Commander Alden.
"We've brought the prisoners, as ordered," Alden announced, his voice carrying an air of authority.
The gates creaked open, revealing a grand hallway lined with banners bearing the phoenix emblem of Aedralis. Elliotte and Christopher were ushered inside, their footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors.
Scene 3: The Throne Room
The throne room was a sight to behold. Sunlight streamed through stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the floor. At the far end of the room, seated on a throne of gold and ivory, was King Aldric of Aedralis. His presence was commanding, his sharp eyes scanning the room with an air of regal authority.
Commander Alden stepped forward, bowing deeply. "Your Majesty, we've apprehended two intruders near the Forest of Duskthorn. They claim to be on a quest, but their intentions remain unclear."
King Aldric leaned forward, his gaze settling on Elliotte and Christopher. "And who might you be?" he asked, his voice calm but laced with suspicion.
One of the guards shoved Elliotte forward, forcing him to his knees. "Answer the king!" the guard barked.
Elliotte winced but quickly composed himself. He raised his head, meeting the king's gaze with unwavering resolve.
"Your Majesty," he began, his voice steady, "my name is Elliotte Lancaster, son of Ironclad's Supreme Commander. I wield the Rings of Light."
The room fell silent. King Aldric's eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable. "The Rings of Light, you say?" he repeated slowly. "And what proof do you have of this claim?"
Elliotte lifted his hands, the enchanted manacles still clamped around his wrists. "Release these, and I will show you."
The king studied him for a moment, then nodded to the guards. "Remove the manacles."
The guards hesitated, glancing at Commander Alden, who gave a curt nod. They stepped forward, unlocking the cuffs with a faint click.
As the restraints fell away, Elliotte felt the familiar surge of energy return to his body. He raised his hand, and the Rings of Light flared to life, their radiant glow illuminating the throne room.
King Aldric's eyes widened, a flicker of awe breaking through his stoic demeanor. "By the phoenix," he murmured. "It's true."
He rose from his throne, his expression softening. "Release them," he commanded. "These are not our enemies."
The guards obeyed, stepping back as Elliotte and Christopher rubbed their wrists. Christopher shot a smug grin at the guards. "Told you we weren't here to cause trouble."
Scene 4: The King's Proposal
As soon as they were free, Christopher stretched dramatically, his voice booming through the throne room. "FINALLY! It's about damn time you freed us. Those manacles were stopping me from itching my back so badly. Now, where the hell is that damn guard who shoved me earlier?"
King Aldric's eyes narrowed, his voice sharp. "SILENCE! You will leash your subordinate, boy, or I'll have his tongue nailed to my gates!"
Christopher stepped forward, eyes blazing. "I'm no one's subordinate, you damn pig—but Elliotte stepped in, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Christopher, enough," he said firmly.
Christopher glared at the king but said nothing. Elliotte turned to King Alaric, bowing his head slightly. "Your Majesty, I apologize for my companion's behavior. We are grateful for your understanding."
The king's expression softened, though his tone remained stern. "You should teach him some manners, young man. Now, as for why you're here…"
Elliotte straightened, his gaze steady. "If you'll excuse us, Your Majesty, we'll be taking our leave now. We have a mission to complete."
He turned to leave, but the guards blocked their path, their spears crossed. Elliotte's hand instinctively went to Exilibur, though he didn't summon it. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.
King Alaric leaned back on his throne, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Why are you in such a hurry, young man? We've only just met. Surely you can spare a moment to hear me out."
Elliotte's jaw tightened. "Are you looking to create a conflict between our kingdoms?"
The king chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "Of course not. But according to our sources, you are a runaway from your kingdom, are you not? If I wished, I could hand you over to Ironclad this very moment."
Christopher stepped forward, his fists clenched. "I've had enough of this crap—"
"Enough!" King Alaric barked, his voice echoing through the throne room. "Let me get straight to the point. As you may have heard, our kingdom celebrates the Phoenix Trials every two years—a grand competition where the greatest fighters from across the lands come to prove their strength. But lately, it's grown… predictable. The people crave something new, something extraordinary."
Elliotte's eyes narrowed. "And what does that have to do with us?"
The king's smile widened. "I want you to participate. Imagine it—the successor of the Rings of Light, fighting in the Phoenix Trials. It would be the spectacle of the century."
Elliotte crossed his arms, his tone firm. "And if we refuse?"
The king's smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating expression. "Then I have no choice but to send you back to Ironclad. After all, a runaway ring bearer is quite the bargaining chip."
Christopher let out a bitter laugh. "You've got some nerve, old man."
Elliotte's mind raced. He glanced at Christopher, then back at the king. Finally, he smirked. "Fine, you bastard. We'll play your game."
The king's smile returned, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Excellent. The Phoenix Trials begin in three days. I suggest you prepare."
As the guards escorted them out of the throne room, Christopher leaned close to Elliotte, his voice low. "You sure about this? This feels like a trap."
Elliotte's gaze was steely. "It is. But sometimes, you have to play along to win the game."