At dawn...
Their carriage set out to the kingdom of Eldora. It would only be a few days journey but selara made it feel like an eternity constantly asking questions.
Selara's impatience was palpable as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Are we there yet? My backside is killing me," she groaned.
"Relax, it's only been 4 hours," Rhaine reassured Selara, trying to calm her impatience.
After some time later she couldn't help but ask, "Do you think we'll see General Kaelion in Eldora?" she asked, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone.
Rhaine paused briefly before answering. "Why do you ask?"
"Well," Selara began, leaning closer as if sharing a secret, "he's basically a legend, isn't he? All so with that terrifying gaze of his."
Rhaine smirked faintly and looked away. "And you believe these rumors?"
"Why not?" Selara shot back, her tone light. "They say he's as handsome as he is terrifying. Ruthless, cunning, and absolutely unmoved by any woman who throws herself at him. And apparently"—she leaned even closer—"princesses from neighboring kingdoms are practically lining up to marry him. All rejected with that cold, blank stare of his."
Rhaine shook her head slightly. "Rumors are just that—rumors."
Selara huffed. "Says the woman they all call 'the Veiled mistress.' You do realize half the kingdoms think you're hiding your face because you're hideous, right?"
This time, Rhaine laughed softly, a sound that was both warm and fleeting. "And what do you think?"
Selara grinned. "I think you're just too intimidating for any man to handle."
Rhaine's smile lingered for a moment. "Let people believe what they want," she said quietly.
General Kaelion.
The name alone could send a shiver down the spines of even the bravest warriors. A man whose reputation was steeped in equal parts terror and awe. The memory of their fleeting encounter was one Rhaine hadn't shared with anyone—not even Selara.
It had been during one of her expeditions, a mission to gather rare herbs deep within the uncharted regions near rough territories. The air had been still that day, thick with a quiet unease that warned her instincts of danger. She had stumbled upon the site of a battle—though "slaughter" was the more fitting word. Blood stained the earth, torn banners hung limp among the trees, and the groans of the dying mingled with the acrid scent of charred flesh.
But what had frozen her in place was the figure amidst the chaos.
A man in gleaming black armor, drenched in blood yet utterly composed, moved like a force of nature. Each swing of his sword was precise and devastating, as though the weapon were an extension of his very being. His opponents fell one by one, their cries silenced before they could echo. The ground beneath his feet seemed to quake with his every step, an almost otherworldly power radiating from him.
Rhaine had been concealed behind a cluster of trees, hidden from view—or so she'd thought. For one brief, heart-stopping moment, his gaze had found hers.
The world seemed to stop. His eyes were cold, piercing, and unrelenting, as though they could strip her soul bare in an instant. Time slowed, and an overwhelming sense of dread consumed her. It wasn't fear of death—it was something far more primal. A voice in her mind screamed the only word that made sense:
Run.
And she had. Without a second thought, she'd turned and fled, her breath ragged, her heart pounding in her ears.
Among the seven lands, none rivaled the splendor and might of Eldora. Its fertile plains teemed with life, and its lush forests were said to be kissed by the gods themselves. Yet it was not its beauty that made Eldora feared—it was its military power.
The kingdom's armies was unmatched, its sleek warships armed with mighty cannons capable of reducing fleets to splinters. On land, Eldora's armies were no less fearsome. Marksmen of unrivaled skill, who crafted infernal war machines, and the famed strike force called shadow guards. These elite warriors, clad in strange contraptions of iron and steam, moved with a speed and strength that seemed beyond mortal men and they were said to be the general's personal guards.
Yet even these formidable forces paled in comparison to the man who led them.
Kaelion.
Under his command, Eldora had become an unstoppable juggernaut, conquering lands and quelling rebellions with an iron fist. Tales spoke of how even the king and queen bent to his will, their authority overshadowed by the sheer force of his presence. To many, he was a savior; to others, a tyrant. But all agreed on one thing: he was a man who embodied raw power.
Rhaine had only visited Eldora once, as a child, long before the tragedy that had claimed her mother. Yet the tales she had heard of the kingdom's grandeur still painted a vivid and daunting picture in her mind.
The rumors surrounding Kaelion were endless. Some said he spoke little, yet each word carried the weight of a thousand swords
The road was rough, the stones uneven beneath their horse's hooves, but it was the fastest path to Eldora. With the blood moon drawing closer, every moment counted. The rune's emergence in this kingdom was exactly what Rhaine's sect had feared. Eldora was no stranger to ambition, and with rulers like theirs, there was no telling what dark schemes they might weave if they uncovered the military realignment map. Chaos loomed on the horizon, and time was slipping away.