23rd day of the season of the sun 2448

Elthen's troops were preparing to leave. Beyond the walls, the commander of the army and the High Knight led the soldiers and knights clad in brown and gold tabards who were undoing their tents. The whole procedure and ceremony went according to plan. The Brown King and Lord Kindirah were hungover and were trying to improve their condition desperately. Both of them, as well as Kiojar and Argent, watched over the activities from the top of the white stone wall.

The prince, being much more responsible than his father, was in perfect health that morning. He handed a flask of water to the king, who protested that he didn't need it.

- Oh don't make that face, Kiojar advised. You should stay hydrated. It's important after so much drinking.

The king laughed, a powerful laugh that quickly deteriorated into a cough.

- Just like your mother. Sometimes I wonder if you'd be a better healer than a fighter. Either way, you'll make a good ruler.

He put his big hand on his son's shoulder and shook it lightly. Then he addressed Kiojar and Argent together:

- Elthen will prosper with you two as a team.

Argent smiled politely as an unpleasant shiver ran through her spine.

- I'm sure of that, Your Grace.

- Lore, he corrected, call me Lore.

He paused.

- Your voice is so melodious yet strengthened with an iron tenacity. You'll make an excellent queen. I don't regret my choice.

- You're babbling, Lore.

- My apologies, Lady Argent.

A trumpet sounded in the distance.

- My apologies again. I must go and meet Commander Jarwu. We'll see each other again before we leave.

He greeted Bayrne and Argent and signaled Kiojar to follow him.

- Of course.

Bayrne took advantage of the moment alone with his daughter to approach her about the Lenmar.

- Everything went well.

- Yes, replied Argent simply, her mind elsewhere.

She was thinking about Demien's proposal. She was torn between her freedom and her duty. Her kingdom needed Elthen's help, its military power. For that, she would have to marry Kiojar. But, on the other hand, Azena's voice resonated in her mind:

- You only have one life to live. That's why I promised fidelity to the dragon riders. Forget about your father. You can do what you want in your own way.

She wanted to live it as a warrior, not as a Lady of the great court of the Crown.

- It's not so simple for me, Azena, she thought. What do I have to do? If I abandon Daigorn, its lands will surely be destroyed.

- Did the prince treat you well? Bayrne asked, his face full of worry.

- You know your daughter well, replied Argent with a smile. Kiojar was very respectful, gentle and funny. He seems to be a prince with a good heart.

- So, what's troubling you, daughter?

Argent bit her lower lip, stressed. Her thoughts ran. She didn't know what to reveal. Did she have to lie? Lying was something she disliked; it wasn't her.

- What is not mentioned is not a lie, she thought to herself.

- I'm just not ready to get married. I'm so young, Father. Isn't there another way to rally Elthen to our cause?

According to her, her words were truthful.

The lord looked up to the horizon. As far as the eye could see, the tents of Elthen's soldiers lined the Stormlands. The king and his son, in the middle of this sea of gold and brown, had finally reached the commander and the High Knight. A young soldier followed them, carrying their flag dancing with the wind.

A scream frozeArgent's blood. She turned to witness an explosion. One of the guard towers of the wall on the other side of Nothar collapsed, crushing several guards and the saboteur. Her heart squeezed and stopped for a moment. One person came to his mind: Demien. Panic took over.

- My sword. I need my sword.

- Go back to the castle, Bayrne ordered. Go back now. Don't let me see you engage in combat.

He began shouting orders to his soldiers. He sent a messenger to King Lore. When he saw that Argent was hesitating, he shouted:

- Go!

Argent obeyed in a wave of determination. She had chosen her path. She slipped between the soldiers heading towards the collapsed tower, down the steps of the wall and then through the streets towards the castle.

- It is as Demien had told me, she thought. The rebels... except that he failed to mention the attack on the city to me. I refuse to ally myself with these disgraceful people.

The rage in her heart fueled her to run faster. Instinct guided her through the maze of small streets and frantic people. She saw a purple and white banner being eaten alive by fire. The woodruffs were being set ablaze, burning the cherished symbol of the kingdom. Burning freedom and peace.

The man held his torch under the banner hanging at an herbalist shop and laughed. Argent turned in the street, grabbed the sword of a dead guard who had been impaled against the house and charged at the rebel. She gave him no time to react. Quick and her mouvements fluid, she jumped up and slit his side of the throat. She ignored the stream of blood dripping on her clothing and put one foot on the man's back as he dragged himself on ground.

- Who is your leader?

The man simply coughed and smiled. Argent realized her mistake.

- I shouldn't have killed you. You have no reason to answer me now. Your soul is in the hands of Elysia and Noktow.

She pushed him away with a strong kick.

- Die, you damned infidel.

She continued her way towards the castle, tightening her grip on the hilt of the sword.

- Demien! she called, anxious.

On the way, she stopped in front of the guard's house. The door wide open, it had been looted by bandits. There was nobody there, so he had not been present at the time of the robbery. Another possibility haunted her: he must be among the rebels.

- No, no, no. He can't be dead, she lied to herself.

A tear rolled down her cheek as she rushed towards the castle.

In front of the gates of the enclosure, she ran into him. On reflex, she jumped back and swung her sword. Her target yelled:

- Argent, it's me!

She calmed down and took the time to observe her interlocutor. In front of her was Demien. He was wearing a strange costume and clutched his forearm, where the lady's sword had grazed him.

- You didn't meet me, he said. Why?

- I didn't have an answer for you, she confessed. I thought about it and honestly, I would have joined your group. I understand your motive, freedom, changing the world, but...

Argent tried to push away the anger growing inside her. She's swallowed hard.

- But when I saw this, I changed my mind.

- It wasn't supposed to be like this.

- Make up whatever excuses you want. My answer is no.

She pushed open the doors.

- Argent! called Demien, desperate.

He grabbed her arm.

- I beg of you. Meet the mastermind behind this mess and he'll explain. Give him a chance and you'll understand.

He looked at her with those eyes that once calmed her so. A heat wave weakened her legs. She tried not to explode in blind rage. She had to remain objective. In the end, her emotions manifested themselves as sadness. Half blinded by tears, she pushed him and continued towards the castle.

- I love you... Shit, Demien! she shouted in her head, repelling the urge to do so right in his face. I don't have a choice. I am remaining faithful to my father, to my people! As a true knight would have done.

Inside, she ignored the bombardment of questions from the guards and servants and concentrated on reaching her room. First of all, she got rid of her uncomfortable clothes and put on boots, a simple tunic, trousers and tied her hair in a ponytail. She hid a dagger in her boot, pulled her sword, tucked neatly into its sheath, from under her bed, and finally looked at herself in the mirror on the wall in front of her. She noticed the necklace that Kiojar had given her the morning he arrived. Pure white, a hand just like the one within you, he had said. Indeed, the gem that hung on it radiated a mysterious power.

- To hell with the others, she said, tying her sword to her belt and the dead guard's on the other side. I'm going to do things my own way since no one is capable of respecting a woman.

- What do you mean? asked a small female voice.

Argent turned. Tria was in the doorway. She looked worried, her messy ebony locks and her eyes heavy.

- Today is your resting day, Argent said. I'm sorry I disturbed your sleep. Don't worry, go back to your room. Make sure the guards stay at your door.

Tria approached, noticed the luggage, and her eyes suddenly opened wide, as if she had just woken up.

- Yes. I'll be well surrounded. King Lore is our ally and he will soon be our family.

- Then you submit to Father's wishes?

- Not completely. I do what's best for Daigorn and what's best for me. I have found a compromise between the two. Now go back to your room. If the guards aren't there, find Mother.

She pulled the dagger from her boot and handed it to Tria, who grimaced at the sight of the blade.

- I know you don't like weapons, but keep this with you.

She guided Tria to her room and after tucking her away, she rushed outside through the kitchen, where she picked up some bread and devoured it on the way. The panicked cooks begged her not to do anything rash.

Outside, the situation seemed to have taken a turn for the worse. Several military and noble establishments had been damaged and often burned. Everywhere she looked, Daigorn's banners had been perverted. The rebels had been arrested a few leagues from the castle.

- Well... At least my family is safe, thought Argent.

A horse neighing drew her attention. A familiar stallion galloped towards her. His pale cream coat was soiled by the debris of chaos.

- Jre'gan, called Argent.

She whistled. The stallion stopped next to her and sniffed her hair.

- Where's Kiojar?

Somebody called the stallion too. The voice sounded like it was not far from there. Argent turned around and saw a young man turning a street corner. He walked towards her with a smile on his face when he saw her.

- Argent! he shouted.

His sand-colored hair was disastrous, dust covered a quarter of his face and his hands were blood-stained, but he kept his charm. For once, Argent felt as if she saw the child in the prince.

- I think he'll make an excellent husband, she thought. Maybe I'll even fall in love with him in time.

The child of Elthen rushed towards his betrothed, lifted her up from the ground, held her tight before he softly let her go.

- You found Jre'gan!

Argent felt the prince's energy and joy. She couldn't resist but to smile. He was acting very positively considering the disaster that was happening.

- Rather it was he who found me, corrected Argent.

- I told you he's smart, he replied without hesitation. No other mount is satisfactory next to him. You don't seem to be hurt. I hoped nothing had happened to you.

He examined her carefully in search for the slightest scratch that might have damaged her beautiful fair skin.

- Yet you have blood on your arm and a little on your face.

- I defended my city and my people.

- The prowess in this woman, Kiojar complimented, upbeat. You are a proud warrior I see. You don't need a man to protect you.

He put his hands on her hips, pretending to be bossy. Argent raised an eyebrow.

- And you, were you victorious?

Kiojar relaxed his body and coughed, visibly uncomfortable.

- Let's just say I don't take after my father for that. I'm just a kitten. Not helpless, but, let's just say, against a knight, it wouldn't go well for me. Anyway, I just came by to see if everything was all right on your end.

- That's very nice of you. I'll come back with you.

Kiojar hesitated.

- Are you sure you want to see this rebellion's ultimatum? Your father isn't merciful.

- What do you mean?

Kiojar opened his mouth to answer, but Argent cut him off:

- It's not important. Let's get going.

She mounted the large stallion who remained perfectly calm. Kiojar looked at her confusedly, surprised by her gesture.

- Do you want me to help you ride Jre'gan?" Argent teased. Come on, move!

The prince chuckled and settled behind Argent. She remembered the command Kiojar used to put Jre'gan at a gallop.

- Nurah'ji!

She felt the animal's understanding and agreement. Jre'gan ran with such grace that he seemed to float. His speed impressed Argent at every turn.

On her way, the future queen watched the people of Daigorn. The nobles were furious, their hearts raging with greed. The commoners, on the other hand, picked up what they had left and continued to fix their homes, however rudimentary they were. The parents comforted the young children who had lost their toy or, worst, a companion. Once again, Argent felt responsible for not warning her father about the rebellion. She thought she was doing the right thing by letting Demien and his band revolutionize their lives.

- I will marry you, she said to Kiojar with the hardness of a gladiator.

She felt the prince's smile on the back of her head.

- I give you my heart, my honor and my fertility. In return, you will give me respect, freedom and teamwork.

- What do you mean by that? the prince asked gently, and she knew she was trying to imply something.

- I want to be a knight. That's my dream. I want to become a warrior, I want to fight for my ideals. Let me join the Order of the Knights.

- But knights can't marry.

- You're the future king, make an exception. You are the law from the moment we marry. We are the next generation, we mustn't follow our parents' footsteps to the letter. Governing is an important responsibility. Let's be a team, unlike other kings and queens who are forced to marry and only dream of stabbing each other in the shadows. Let us work together to find the best that our situation offers us. Knights are like all people; they need love too.

- Father will find it strange, but I'm sure it'll be fine. Speaking of them, we've arrived.

Bayrne and Lore were standing in front of a dozen rebels, their hands and feet bound. Chains tied them all to a wooden post. They waited for their sentence on their knees with their heads held high and their eyes filled with determination. Argent and Kiojar jumped down from Jre'gan and stood beside their respective fathers.

Argent's heart tightened when she saw Demien among the prisoners. He crossed her eyes and smiled, half sad, half happy.

- I leave you the freedom to choose their sentence, said Lore to Bayrne in his powerful voice. This is your kingdom, even more than mine, even though I am your king.

Argent knew that his father had to be firm, especially in the presence of the king. But she begged him to spare them nonetheless. Bayrne put one hand on her daughter's shoulder and nodded.

- You know what I have to do.

- No, refused Argent. Father, death is not the answer.

- They'll come back, Argent, he replied. I must protect my people.

- I understand your reasoning, said Argent firmly. But they have their reasoning too. They're just trying to survive, to have a better life. Are we a people of butchers or the children of the wind, of freedom, of peace?

Demien's reassuring gaze reassured her. Meanwhile, Bayrne considered her daughter's argument.

- My Lord, began one of the soldiers, but the lord raised his hand and silence followed.

Commoners and nobles slowly gathered around them, curious about what was going on. The soldiers stopped them from approaching the rebels.

- It's for your protection, they said.

A mother recognized her son among the condemned and began to cry and beg to let him go free. A soldier reassured her that Bayrne would make the best decision for the situation and that panic would only make things worse. The woman obeyed, but her body remained tense. Argent understood her perfectly; Demien was like family to her and there he was, being judged and possibly killed.

Finally, the Lord of the White Woodruff made his decision. With a powerful voice, he said:

- Something is brewing in Aerinda, some kind of war. I don't know where it will lead us, but I promise to do my best to protect Daigorn. If your decision is to leave, so be it.

He stared at the rebels harshly.

- You rebels have made your choice today. I brand you enemies of our kingdom. You are free to leave, but do so now, for if you are caught on our land, you will be killed.

If the prisoners were relieved, they would not let on. Only Demien looked up briefly at Argent.

- Captain Heredan, called Bayrne.

A great soldier with a long nose and a fierce, devout gaze approached.

- You and your battalion will escort the rebels to the edge of Daigorn, the lord continued. There you will give them their freedom.

- Yes, my Lord, replied Heredan.

He signaled to his soldiers to take the rebels to the dungeon, where the prisoners we're gonna be locked in small cold cells.

- When will we leave, my Lord?

- Get ready and leave immediately.

Heredan assigned some soldiers to prepare the horses and provisions before taking his leave.

- Are you sure this is the best decision? Lore asked Bayrne. We will soon be at war. We don't have time for rebels if they come back.

- I support Argent's wisdom, Kiojar said. A queen who recognizes that death is not a game will be a great one. People don't think about it anymore, they play the justice card when they're not even the ones who granted life to others.

The Brown King closed his eyes. His solemn expression filled with forgiveness and at that moment he seemed even more powerful than before.

- Well said, my son.