Kaelen Aegis stood atop the hill, his eyes fixed on the burning horizon. The war had taken everything from him—his comrades, his hope, his faith. He had fought in countless battles, witnessed unspeakable horrors, and yet he remained. A warrior by trade, a soldier by blood, and a man whose heart had long since been buried beneath layers of armor and bloodshed.
The wind tugged at his black cloak, and he tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. His blade had tasted more blood than he cared to count. But today, it would not taste more. Today, the kingdom of Valemont stood on the precipice of peace, but Kaelen had no stake in that peace. Peace was for the weak, for those who could still afford to dream of a world without war. He had no such luxury.
His commanding officer's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Aegis," General Rethan Drakmoor called, his voice cutting through the sound of clashing swords and the cries of the dying. "The king has summoned you."
Kaelen turned, his expression unreadable. The general's eyes were steely, betraying no hint of emotion. But Kaelen could sense the tension in the air, the unease that had settled over the camp in the wake of recent victories.
"What does the king want with me?" Kaelen asked, his voice a low rumble.
Rethan's lips tightened, his gaze darting over the battlefield. "You'll find out soon enough."
The royal palace in the capital city of Valemont was a place of luxury, its marble halls echoing with the steps of nobles and courtiers. Kaelen had never liked it here. The walls were too pristine, the air too suffocating. He preferred the harsh, open lands of the battlefield, where things were simple: fight or die.
But today, he walked these halls as a summoned guest. The king's advisor led him through the labyrinthine corridors, each step heavy with anticipation. Kaelen's boots echoed on the polished floors, a stark contrast to the silence that enveloped them.
"You'll find the king in his chambers," the advisor said, his voice a whisper. "Do not speak unless spoken to. The king's requests are not to be questioned."
Kaelen nodded, his face unreadable. He had long since learned the importance of silence, especially when in the presence of those who held power.
The chamber doors opened with a creak, and Kaelen stepped inside. King Aldric Valemont, a man whose reputation for wisdom and cruelty had earned him both admiration and fear, sat at the head of an intricately carved wooden table. His gaze was sharp, calculating, as he regarded Kaelen with a look that was both distant and appraising.
"Kaelen Aegis," the king said, his voice smooth and commanding. "You have served this kingdom well. You are a weapon, forged in the fires of war. But it is not for war that I need you now."
Kaelen stood at attention, his hands clasped behind his back. "What do you require, my king?"
The king's gaze never wavered. "You are to be the personal bodyguard of my daughter, Lady Elara Valemont."
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Kaelen was certain he had misheard. The king's daughter? A delicate noblewoman, sheltered from the horrors of battle? It made no sense. But the king's eyes were cold and unyielding, and Kaelen knew better than to question orders.
"I am no protector of nobility," Kaelen replied, his voice a low growl. "My skills are for the battlefield, not for guarding a princess."
The king's lips curled into a slight smile, one that held no warmth. "You misunderstand, Aegis. This is no mere task. Lady Elara is caught in the middle of a dangerous political web. There are enemies within our own walls, and your loyalty to me is more important than ever."
Kaelen's heart tightened at the king's words. He had seen the games of the nobility, their endless scheming and betrayal. But to be thrust into the heart of it was a different matter altogether.
"I will do as you command, my king," Kaelen said, his tone resigned.
King Aldric's smile widened. "Good. You leave tomorrow at dawn."
Kaelen's night was restless, his thoughts a whirlwind of uncertainty. The battlefield had been simple—kill or be killed. But this... this was different. Protecting a woman like Lady Elara, with her noble airs and delicate manner, felt like a mockery of everything he had fought for.
But duty was duty, and Kaelen had long since learned to suppress his personal feelings in favor of the greater cause. He had made his oath to the kingdom, and he would uphold it, no matter the cost.
As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, Kaelen prepared for his departure. His armor gleamed in the early morning light, each plate a reminder of the battles he had fought and the ones yet to come. He strapped his sword to his side and took one final look at the camp. The soldiers were already preparing for the day's march, but Kaelen's mind was elsewhere.
Lady Elara Valemont awaited him, and he had no idea what kind of storm he was about to walk into.