Chapter 10: Arrival at the Borderlands
The journey to the borderlands was long and grueling, spanning nearly two weeks by carriage and horseback. The air grew colder and the roads rougher the closer they drew to the edge of the kingdom. This was no longer the lush and orderly heart of the empire; it was wild and untamed, a place where civilization clashed with chaos.
Darius sat in his carriage, staring out the window as the landscape passed by. Rolling hills gave way to jagged cliffs and sparse forests, the terrain a grim prelude to the battlefields ahead. His companions in this journey were few, carefully selected by the king himself—a small retinue of knights, tacticians, and mages, as well as his siblings Tobias and Seraphina.
The air in the carriage was tense. Tobias avoided looking at Darius entirely, his jaw set in a stubborn grimace. Seraphina, ever composed, sat with perfect posture, her silver hair glinting in the dim light filtering through the carriage curtains. Her light blue eyes occasionally flicked toward Darius, studying him with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
Darius, however, remained unfazed by their discomfort. He leaned back in his seat, one hand idly tapping against the hilt of his sword, the other resting on the cool, coiled length of his Sovereign Chains.
"So," he finally broke the silence, his voice light yet laced with an undertone of amusement. "Are we going to pretend this isn't the most awkward family outing in history, or is that just me?"
Tobias scowled but said nothing. Seraphina's lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "You seem to be in unusually high spirits, brother," she said, her tone carefully neutral.
"Why wouldn't I be?" Darius replied, his smirk widening. "I'm heading to the borderlands, a place where strength is the only law. It's practically a vacation."
Tobias finally snapped, his voice sharp. "You think this is a joke? People die out there, Darius. Soldiers. Commanders. Even nobles. This isn't one of your little games."
Darius turned to Tobias, his onyx eyes gleaming with an intensity that made the younger prince flinch. "And yet," he said softly, dangerously, "I'm the only one in this carriage who seems prepared for it."
---
When they arrived at the borderlands, the stark reality of their situation became clear. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and blood, the sky darkened by clouds that never seemed to part. The fortress at the edge of the kingdom loomed before them, its stone walls scarred from countless sieges. Soldiers bustled about, their faces grim and weary, their armor dented and scratched.
Darius stepped out of the carriage, the cold air biting at his skin. He glanced around, taking in the scene with a mixture of intrigue and detachment. This was a place where survival was paramount, where the strong thrived and the weak were swallowed whole.
"Welcome to the borderlands," said a grizzled soldier who approached them, his voice rough and gravelly. He wore a captain's insignia on his battered armor and carried himself with the confidence of a man who had survived more battles than he could count. "You must be the royal delegation."
The soldier's eyes lingered on Darius, narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge the young man's strength. Darius met his gaze head-on, a faint smile playing at his lips.
"Yes," Seraphina said smoothly, stepping forward. "I am Princess Seraphina Lionhart. This is my brother Tobias, and..." she paused, her voice dipping ever so slightly, "this is Darius."
The captain's gaze shifted back to Darius, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he nodded. "Follow me. The general's waiting."
---
The war room of the fortress was a stark contrast to the opulence of the palace back home. It was a spartan space, lit by flickering torches and dominated by a large map table. A handful of officers stood around it, their faces hardened by years of war.
As they entered, a man in dark armor turned to face them. He was tall and imposing, with scars crisscrossing his face and a pair of piercing green eyes that seemed to see straight through to a person's soul.
"General Kael," Seraphina said, inclining her head respectfully. "We've arrived."
The general's eyes swept over the group, lingering briefly on Tobias before settling on Darius. His brow furrowed slightly, but he said nothing.
Darius stepped forward, his chains clinking faintly as they shifted at his side. "You're the one in charge here?" he asked, his tone casual but edged with challenge.
Kael raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching in what might have been amusement. "I am. And you must be the infamous Darius Lionhart."
Darius's smile widened. "Infamous already? I'm flattered."
Kael's expression hardened. "This isn't a place for flattery or games, boy. Out here, you prove your worth with action, not words."
"Good," Darius said, his voice low and dangerous. "Because words bore me."
The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. After a moment, Kael nodded. "We'll see what you're made of soon enough."
---
That night, as Darius stood on the walls of the fortress, gazing out at the dark, hostile lands beyond, he felt a thrill of anticipation. The borderlands were a crucible, a place where only the strongest survived.
And he had every intention of proving that he belonged.