The battlefield was silent. A tense, fragile peace hung in the air as the armies of the remaining kingdoms stood on opposite sides of a ruined valley. The victory against the herald had come at a heavy cost, leaving their forces depleted and their alliances frayed.
Selene surveyed the aftermath from a ridge, her expression grim. Fires still smoldered in the distance, and the wounded cried out for aid. Though the herald had been driven back, its shadow still lingered in their hearts.
"We can't sustain this," she muttered, her voice barely audible.
The princess stood nearby, her armor battered but her presence commanding. "We have no choice," she replied, her tone sharp. "The herald will return, stronger than before. If we falter now, all is lost."
Selene turned to face her, frustration flashing in her eyes. "And how do you propose we hold together an alliance built on centuries of hatred? Your soldiers barely tolerate mine, and the others are already talking of retreat."
The princess held her gaze, her expression unreadable. "Then we give them a reason to stay."
---
In the camp below, tensions simmered. Soldiers from different kingdoms glared at one another, their tempers fueled by exhaustion and old grudges.
"We're wasting our time here," one soldier spat. "Let them deal with their own mess. Our people need us back home."
"And leave the world to burn?" another shot back. "You think the herald will stop with their lands? It'll come for ours next."
Voices rose in argument, the camp on the verge of breaking apart.
The child, seated on a rock near the edge of the camp, watched silently. Their glow had dimmed, and their face was pale from the strain of maintaining their power during the battle.
"They do not see it," they said softly.
Eldric, standing nearby, glanced at them. "See what?"
"The cost of division. It feeds not just the herald, but the darkness that spawned it. Unless they unite in purpose and heart, their victory will be short-lived."
Eldric sighed, rubbing his temples. "You keep saying that, but unity doesn't just happen. These people have hated each other for generations. They're not going to change overnight."
The child looked at him, their gaze steady. "Then the night will last forever."
---
As night fell, the leaders of the kingdoms gathered in a makeshift tent. The air was heavy with tension as arguments broke out over supplies, strategy, and past betrayals.
"We've given more than our share of resources," one leader snapped. "And what have we gotten in return? Dead soldiers and scorched land."
"You think we wanted this war?" another retorted. "Your kingdom's greed is what brought the herald upon us in the first place."
The princess slammed her gauntleted hand onto the table, silencing the room. "Enough! This petty bickering serves no one. The herald grows stronger while we fight amongst ourselves."
"And what do you suggest?" a leader sneered. "That we simply forget centuries of bloodshed?"
"No," she replied, her voice cold and steady. "But if we let the past dictate our actions, there will be no future to fight for."
Her words hung in the air, met with silence.
---
From his distant vantage, He observed the fracturing alliance with a sense of inevitability. Mortals, bound by their pride and wounds of the past, struggled to see beyond the present.
Yet, amidst the discord, there were sparks of something greater—moments of understanding, fleeting but real.
He could sense it: the fragile thread of hope that tied these kingdoms together. It was thin, fraying at the edges, but it existed.
For now, He watched.
---
The next morning, the armies stirred as horns sounded across the valley. Scouts reported movement in the distance—shadows gathering once more.
Selene tightened her grip on her blade, her expression hard. "It's starting again."
The princess mounted her steed, her voice steady as she addressed the soldiers. "This is not the time for fear. Stand together, or we fall apart."
As the armies prepared for another battle, the child stood at the edge of the camp, their glow faint but unwavering.
"The choice is theirs," they murmured. "But the consequences are beyond them."
Eldric frowned. "What do you mean?"
The child's gaze shifted to the horizon, where the shadows began to rise. "The herald is not the end. It is merely the beginning."