The sun hung low over the kingdom of ZiYou, casting long shadows that danced upon the cobblestone streets. General Arvid stood upon the battlements, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He was a man of few words, his silence often mistaken for coldness, but within him burned the fire of a thousand battles and a story etched deep with pain and perseverance.

Born to foreign parents, Arvid had always been an outsider in ZiYou. His earliest memories were filled with whispers and pointed fingers, the cruel taunts of children, and the cold stares of adults who saw him as a stranger in their midst. His parents had come to ZiYou seeking a better life but found only hardship and suspicion. They were good people, hardworking and kind, but their kindness was often met with contempt.

When Arvid was sixteen, his world shattered. His parents vanished without a trace, victims of the ruthless purge orchestrated by the unknown.

With no family and no place to call home, Arvid wandered the streets, surviving on scraps and sheer willpower. The years hardened him, sculpting a boy who had known only love and sorrow into a man who knew how to fight for survival. It was on one of these aimless wanderings that he stumbled upon a scene that would change his fate forever.

In a narrow alley, a group of bandits had cornered a man, their jeers and laughter echoing off the stone walls. Arvid, his thin and small body could not stand by and watch. He lunged at the bandits, fists flying in a flurry of righteous anger. He fought with a desperation that came from a lifetime of being treated as less than human, each punch and kick a defiance against the injustice he had endured.

The bandits were taken aback by his ferocity, but they were stronger and outnumbered him. Just as they began to overwhelm him, a clarion call sounded, and a troop of soldiers stormed into the alley.

"Hold!" a female voice rang out, authoritative and unwavering. The bandits scattered, leaving Arvid standing alone, breathing heavily, bruised but unbroken.

The woman approached him, her gaze assessing the young man before her. "You fought well," she said, a note of approval in her voice. "What is your name?"

"Arvid," he replied, standing tall despite the pain coursing through his body. "My name is Arvid."

"Why did you risk your life for a stranger?" she asked, her eyes piercing into his soul.

Arvid met her gaze, his voice steady and filled with a conviction that had been forged in the fires of his past. "Because it's the right thing to do. Because no one should suffer alone."

The woman nodded, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Come with us, Arvid. Fight for something greater than yourself.” she offered a hand. “I'm Suffine.”

And so began Arvid's journey from a despised foreigner to a respected general in the army of ZiYou. Under Suffine's mentorship, he honed his skills, and his unyielding resolve making him a formidable warrior and a compassionate leader. He rose through the ranks not by birthright, but by proving time and again that he was willing to stand up for justice, to protect those who could not protect themselves.

***

Now, as he stood beside Eamon, ready to charge into battle once more, the memory of his parents and the injustices they had suffered fueled his courage. He would fight not just for ZiYou, but for every person who had been marginalized and mistreated.

"Eamon," Arvid said, his voice steady and filled with the weight of his past, "You got me."

Eamon nodded, understanding the depth of Arvid's words. "For ZiYou, and for the dream of a better future."

“You mean, for Queen Sheira?”

“Yes, for S-” Eamon paused, placing his sharp gaze on Arvid.

“Just say it, man…I know you like her.”

Eamon threw his gaze towards the enemy lines as he started to roll out, leaving Arvid without a word.

Arvid followed. “C'mon man!”

***

Eamon's POV

Amidst the chaos, I caught sight of Arvid cutting through the ranks, his eyes blazing with purpose. For a brief moment, our gazes met, and a silent understanding passed between us. With Arvid’s arrival, our soldiers pushed the enemy lines, bolstered by the presence of our general and the reinforcements he had brought.

The battlefield was a symphony of chaos and bloodshed. Shouts of pain, the clang of swords, and the cries of the wounded filled the air. My dual swords flashing in the dim light, carved a path through the enemy ranks. Every movement was precise, every strike lethal. By my side was the commander.

“Eamon, to your left!” the commander shouted, his voice cutting through the din.

I spun just in time to deflect a blow aimed at my side, my swords clashing against the enemy’s blade. With a swift counter, I disarmed the attacker and sent him sprawling to the ground. The commander, wielding his heavy broadsword with ease, cut down another soldier who tried to flank us.

We fought back-to-back, a seamless unit, taking down enemy soldiers with brutal efficiency. The ground around us was littered with the fallen, both friend and foe. Despite the overwhelming odds, our determination was unwavering.

As we pushed forward, my eyes fell upon a young Lorendale soldier attempting to flee. In a swift, I tackled the soldier to the ground, pressing one of my swords to the young man's throat.

“Tell me where they’re keeping Sheira,” I demanded, my voice low and menacing.

The soldier, wide-eyed and trembling, hesitated. I pressed the blade a little harder, drawing a thin line of blood. “Now!”

“She… she’s in the central keep,” the soldier stammered. “In the dungeons… beneath the old castle.”

I knocked the soldier unconscious and turned to the commander. “We know where she is. Let’s go.”

Without another word, we fought our way through the throng of enemies, moving with single-minded determination toward the old castle. The path was fraught with danger, but we cut down anyone who stood in our way, our focus unwavering.

The central keep loomed ahead, an imposing structure of stone and iron. Me and the commander breached the entrance, taking down the guards with ruthless efficiency. We navigated the winding corridors, descending into the bowels of the castle where the dungeons were located.

Before we could reach the dungeon door, a sound of footsteps echoed through the chamber. I turned, my blood running cold as I saw the man in black step out of the shadows.

To be continued...