The first light of dawn crept across the horizon, painting the sky in hues of soft pink and gold. The field was shrouded in the cool mist of morning, but the tension in the air was palpable—as sharp and cold as a drawn blade. Standing opposite each other, mere feet apart, were the two most powerful lords in the kingdom: Seraphina Crimsonvale and Caelum Avernal.
A faint line of trampled grass marked the invisible boundary separating them. To those present, the line seemed to hold more weight than an iron wall, and the lords regarded it—and each other—with the intensity of predators poised to strike.
Behind them, their small retinues stood stiffly. Guards, knights, and attendants exchanged uneasy glances, gripping their weapons tightly. It was supposed to be a rare moment of respite for their lords, but now it felt like they were on the brink of war. The girl, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing outside, slept soundly in the tent, her tiny form a stark contrast to the towering giants of power arguing over her fate.
"Shouldn't you be on your way back to Crimsonvale by now?" Caelum's voice was calm but laced with ice, his violet eyes narrowing. "I hear your ports are in desperate need of their absent wraith."
Seraphina raised a single crimson brow, her arms crossed in defiance. "And shouldn't you be freezing your heartless self back in Avernal? Or are your Frostguard incapable of holding the north without you micromanaging their every breath?"
The guards on both sides stiffened, exchanging wary glances. This wasn't a battle of swords, but of words—a duel just as dangerous and far more unpredictable.
"I would leave," Caelum replied smoothly, his tone a perfect mix of mockery and indifference, "if I didn't think you would immediately twist this situation to your advantage the moment my back was turned."
"Twist the situation?" Seraphina's lips curled into a smirk. "Please, Avernal. Unlike you, I have no need to rely on theatrics. My presence alone commands respect."
"Respect? Is that what you call your uncanny ability to conjure chaos wherever you go?" Caelum shot back, folding his arms across his chest. "If anything, your absence would bring peace to the empire."
The back-and-forth volley of barbs grew sharper with each exchange, their words snapping like thunderclaps in the still morning air. Each accusation and retort felt like the strike of a blade, and neither showed any sign of backing down.
Meanwhile, the guards of both houses found themselves in a deeply uncomfortable position. On Crimsonvale's side, a young soldier whispered to her companion. "Do you think they'll actually fight?"
Her companion, an older and more seasoned knight, shook his head wearily. "Fight? No. But if they keep this up, I wouldn't be surprised if the ground itself split beneath them just to get away."
Over on Avernal's side, a similarly tense conversation unfolded. "They've been at this for hours," one guard muttered, shifting uneasily. "Should we… intervene?"
"Intervene?" another guard hissed, his face pale. "Are you mad? Do you want to end up as collateral damage in a feud between devils? Just pray they remember we exist when this is over."
Back in the tent, Lyra stirred slightly in her sleep, her silver hair catching the soft dawn light. She murmured something unintelligible, her face serene, oblivious to the chaos brewing just outside. The stark contrast between the peaceful child and the clashing lords only added to the absurdity of the scene.
"The child would be better off in my care," Caelum said firmly, his voice rising above the morning mist. "Avernal's lands are secure and far from the chaos of the eastern trade routes."
"In your care?" Seraphina scoffed, her crimson eyes flashing. "She'd be frozen solid before the first snowfall. No, Avernal, she's better off with me. Crimsonvale has the resources and warmth to provide her a proper home."
"Warmth?" Caelum's laughter was cold and biting. "You? The Crimson Wraith? You're more likely to burn her alive than keep her warm."
Seraphina's jaw tightened, and for a moment, it seemed the line between them might dissolve into open conflict. But then, as if by unspoken agreement, both stepped back, their gazes still locked.
The sun had risen higher now, its light piercing through the dissipating mist. The guards sighed in collective relief, though their hands remained close to their weapons. The lords, however, were far from finished. The tension between them was a storm waiting to break, and the little girl sleeping peacefully in the tent was the eye of the hurricane.
As Seraphina turned on her heel to retreat to her camp, she threw one last glance over her shoulder. "Try not to lose too much sleep over your inability to outmaneuver me, Caelum."
Caelum smirked faintly, his voice carrying just loud enough for her to hear. "Worry about your own sleep, Crimsonvale. After all, nightmares come easiest to those who live in shadows."
And with that, the dawn's tense standoff came to an end—for now. But beneath the surface, the battle raged on, their rivalry rekindled by a child's quiet presence and the fragile thread of a peace that neither was willing to sever.