Elara
The following days were marked by unusual agitation in the castle. Preparations for war were multiplying. Messengers arrived constantly, bringing news, orders, and border reports. Tension was palpable in every corner of the castle, and even the nobles seemed more nervous than usual, aware that danger was approaching.
As for me, I dedicated myself entirely to the task that the king had entrusted to me. Crafting the armor was no small feat. I wasn't an armorer, but I had an eye for detail, and my work as a seamstress and dressmaker had accustomed me to precise demands and challenging materials. The challenge was immense, but I knew that my success would be a symbol not only of my skill but also of the trust the king placed in me. Every movement I made, every cut of metal, every piece I shaped carried a meaning greater than I could have imagined.
The armorers of the castle observed my work with some distrust. They were used to creating functional, efficient armor, but without much decoration. However, the armor the king had requested was not meant to be just protection. It had to embody the strength of the kingdom, its grandeur, its authority. I knew I had to include something more, an element that went beyond mere utility.
One day, as I was about to adjust a piece of metal to the silhouette of the armor, I felt a presence behind me. I turned around and saw Aldric standing there, silent, watching my work. He wasn't wearing his royal garb but simpler attire, and he seemed tired, marked by nights of reflection and concern.
"You're making good progress," he said in a deep voice, though softer than it had been in recent days. "I knew you'd be capable of it."
A shiver ran through me at his words. "I'm doing my best, Sire," I replied, lowering my eyes to the work in my hands. "The armor… it must be more than just protection. It must tell a story."
The king moved closer to me, his eyes scanning every detail of the armor. "And what story does it tell?" he asked, his penetrating gaze urging me to go further.
I took a deep breath before answering. "It tells the strength of the kingdom, but also its fragility. The beauty and cruelty of war. The details I add… they are there to show that even in war, there is a part of humanity, of dignity. And sometimes, in the greatest suffering, there is also the possibility of redemption."
Aldric looked at me for a moment, as if weighing my words. He wasn't used to being spoken to in such a way, but what I had just said, in its disarming simplicity, seemed to strike him as a revelation. He himself, in his quest for power and conquest, had often forgotten the humanity behind the decisions he made. And I, through my gestures, through my work, seemed to restore the balance he had lost.
"You understand more than many of my advisors," he murmured, almost to himself. "War is a complex thing, Elara. It is not just a clash of forces. It marks souls, hearts. And sometimes, it leaves scars that one carries for a lifetime."
I raised my eyes, meeting his gaze. "That's why the armor must be more than just a shield. It must also be a message. A symbol."
"A symbol of what we want to be, and of what we must face," he added. His eyes softened slightly, as though he wanted to say more, but he stopped himself.
A silence settled between us, heavy with unspoken words. I knew that the king was fighting not only for his kingdom but also against himself, against his own demons. Every war he fought, every decision he made, seemed to distance him a little more from the redemption he sought, while paradoxically bringing him closer to it.
"Majesty," I said finally, breaking the silence, "whatever battles you fight outside, it's important never to forget who you are inside."
Aldric looked at me for a moment, his eyes crossing the space between us, then he shook his head slightly, a faint smile on his lips. "I no longer really know who I am, Elara. War defines me more than I would like."
He then turned and walked away, but before leaving the room, he turned