The trip to the Silver Fang Clan was a dangerous one. Elara rode with only Bael and a handful of trusted soldiers, chosen for their silence and loyalty. Snow fell in thick sheets, erasing the trails behind them and cloaking the forest in a deadened hush. Every hoofprint was muffled in the snow and the wind moaned like the decaying soul of a tree through the boughs.
The trail through which they walked—formerly known as Whisperwood—was now a dangerous jungle. Bandits, mercenaries, and worse lurked in its depths. But Elara knew the dangers of turning back far outweighed the risks of pushing forward.
"Your Highness," Bael said from behind her, his breath fogging in the frigid air. "The scouts report movement ahead. Two riders. No banners."
"Jade Lotus?" Elara said, with narrowing eyes and pulling her cloak tighter to ward off the chill," etc.
"Unlikely," Bael replied. "They wouldn't be so careless as to approach openly."
Elara nodded. "Let them come. We'll deal with them swiftly."
Seconds later, the two riders stepped out from the snowdrift. They were all dressed in dirty leather and fur, with their faces covered by scarves. One of them raised a hand in greeting, their posture deliberate—nonthreatening.
"Travelers?" Bael muttered, his hand resting on his sword hilt.
Elara sat tall in her saddle as the riders approached. "Speak your purpose," she called, her voice cutting through the howling wind.
The leading jockey waved, displaying a face with hard angles and icy blue stare in the form of a woman. Travelers, yes," she stated flatly, "with a northern twang. "But not without reason. You ride into Silver Fang country and the Clan is none too pleased with such unannounced visitors.
Elara's gaze remained steely. But maybe you should at least be in the know of. who's paying your Fanglord a visit. I am Elara, Princess of Aeloria. I seek council with Varik Stormclaw."
The woman's expression flickered with recognition. "The Frostborne Princess." she murmured, then glanced to her companion, who nodded once.
Varik will be interested in this," she finally admitted. "We'll take you to him, but your guards must remain outside the stronghold."
Bael bristled. "The princess does not travel unguarded."
"Peace, Bael," Elara said sharply. She met the woman's gaze with calm determination. "We will follow you. Lead on."
The Silver Fang Stronghold
Nestled in the heart of the snowbound mountains, the Silver Fang Stronghold loomed like a beast carved from the stone itself. Its walls were of jagged stone, armored with iron and lit with fires in sconces upon its battlements, which cast a dancing orange light onto the falling snow.
The noise of iron being ground filled the air, while the enormous gates groaned and unfolded, revealing a courtyard vast and ornate where soldiers engaged in training or combat, which would appear in clusters. These were not men of idle nobility—they were fighters, bred and born for battle.
Varik Stormclaw, the Fanglord of the Silver Fang Clan, awaited them in the great hall. He was a mountain of a man, his silver-streaked hair tied back, and his armor forged from overlapping scales of steel that shimmered faintly in the firelight. His gaze was sharp as a predator's, and the scar that ran from his brow to his jaw only amplified the air of ruthlessness about him.
Elara entered the hall with Bael at her heels, but kept him at exactly a pace as much as possible behind her. Her chin lifted proudly to meet Varik's eye.
"So," Varik rumbled, his voice deep and gravelly. "The Frostborne Princess graces my hall. Tell me, girl, what storm brings you here?"
Elara ignored the slight edge to his tone. She had no time for prideful games.
"A storm not of my making," she replied. But that scarier one that could consume my kingdom and yours unless stopped.
Varik's eyes narrowed. "Speak plainly."
Elara stepped forward, her voice ringing clear. "The Jade Lotus Sect has infiltrated my court. They map out my ruin of a kingdom and at the same time disputants of my own court try to plot against me. I need allies—true allies—to strike back before it's too late.".
Varik looked at her for a while, the flicker of the firelight playing across his features. Finally, he barked a short, humorless laugh. "A queen who admits her throne wavers. Rare, and bold. However, why should I put my warriors at risk for you, Princess?
Elara's gaze didn't waver. "Because the Jade Lotus is only the beginning. The Fireborn Dynasty moves to claim the east. The Jade Lotus will take the heart of Aeloria. &when they have finished acting upon us they will see northwards. To your lands. To your people. You know as well as I do—no clan can stand alone against such enemies.".
The hall fell silent, save for the crackling of the great hearth.
Varik's expression hardened. "You ask much. You demand trust, yet offer only words."
"Then let me offer more," Elara replied. She grabbed her cloak and brought out a miniature finely worked blade. Its blade gleamed faintly blue—a blade forged from froststeel, a rare metal known only to Aeloria's royal smiths. She held it out to him.
This is a token of my word," she explained. "An oath. Fight with me, and you will not stand alone. The north will be rewarded—not as servants to Aeloria, but as equals.".
Varik's eyes lingered on the dagger. His fingers closed around it, testing its weight. "An oath made of steel," he muttered, his tone contemplative.
I will consider your offer. But know this—if you betray my trust, the Silver Fangs will tear through your lands like wolves starved for blood.".
Elara nodded, unflinching. "Then we have an understanding."
The Night of the Oath
That night, Elara stood on the ramparts of the Silver Fang Stronghold, gazing out into the rain. Varik had consented to have scouts sent to Aeloria, trust still fragile, but developing. Bael stood silently beside her, his presence grounding.
"You were bold with him, Princess," Bael said. "Perhaps too bold."
Elara's breath misted in the frigid air. "Boldness wins battles. Hesitation loses wars."
Bael glanced at her. "And this war of yours—it's only just begun."
Elara's eyes narrowed as she watched the snow swirl into the dark void beyond the walls. The Jade Lotus, the Fireborn Dynasty, the traitors in her court—they were all circling like vultures, waiting for her to stumble.
Let them wait.
"I'll win this war, Bael," she said softly, her voice a promise. "Or I'll burn everything they hold dear to the ground."
Beneath the snow-covered mountains, the storm gathered strength.