Year 217 Post-Collapse

  Eve of the Blood Moon

  The wind swept across the bloodstained plains, lifting the dust and ashes of past battles. Kael stood atop a hill, overlooking his encampment below. The tents were aligned in strict order, the banners of his army snapping under the gusts. Everywhere, soldiers were busy—some repairing their dented armor, others sharpening their blades or murmuring prayers to the old gods before the uncertain night ahead.

  There, on the misty horizon, stretched the red and gold banners of Solheim. The king's army had arrived, their ranks impeccably formed, their horses heavily armored. But Kael still did not know whether they would be allies or yet another threat.

  Darius, his loyal right hand, joined him. His armor was covered in dried blood, and his gaze was darker than usual.

  — We don’t have the strength to face a fresh army, Kael. If Solheim decides to attack us, we’re dead.

  Kael did not respond immediately. His mind was still haunted by the confrontation with Dragan, the man he had thought dead, returning from the abyss with an unsettling power. And now, another force had entered the game.

  Lysara arrived as well, her expression grim. She wore her scout’s attire, fitted to blend into the shadows. Her sharp eyes scanned Solheim’s movements in the distance.

  — They’re not deploying to attack immediately… but they’re slowly encircling us. They’re waiting for an opening.

  Kael clenched his fists. He could not afford to be cornered.

  — We have to move first. Gather the men. We’re going to negotiate.

  Darius smirked.

  — Negotiate? With Solheim’s dogs?

  Kael fixed him with an intense gaze.

  — We have no choice.

  A few hours later, under a sky covered with heavy clouds, Kael, accompanied by Darius and Lysara, rode towards Solheim’s camp. They were escorted by a handful of soldiers, their blades ready to be drawn at the slightest betrayal.

  A truce pavilion had been set up on neutral ground, guarded by knights in gleaming armor. Their helmets reflected the faint rays of the setting sun, giving the scene an almost unreal aura.

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  Before them stood an imposing man, draped in a purple mantle embroidered with gold. His face was marked by years of war, scars tracing memories on his tanned skin. His piercing gray eyes studied Kael without blinking.

  — Lord Kael, he declared in a deep voice. I am General Althar of Solheim. You’ve been making quite a name for yourself these past months.

  Kael dismounted with confidence and approached without hesitation.

  — General Althar. To what do I owe the honor of your presence?

  The old man allowed himself a barely perceptible smile.

  — The King of Solheim keeps a close eye on the wars in this region. We cannot ignore a warlord who gathers an army so quickly.

  Darius grunted behind him, his fists clenched.

  — So, you’ve come to wipe us out?

  Althar chuckled softly, a laugh devoid of warmth.

  — If that were our intention, you would already be dead.

  Kael narrowed his eyes.

  — Then what do you want?

  The general’s gaze hardened.

  — An alliance.

  A heavy silence settled.

  Kael studied Althar with suspicion.

  — You’re asking me to swear allegiance to Solheim?

  The general slowly shook his head.

  — Not exactly. The King does not want a vassal, but a partner. We have a common enemy.

  Kael crossed his arms.

  — Who?

  Althar smiled, a smile that boded ill.

  — The Order of the Black Phoenix.

  Lysara shivered.

  — The Order? Those fanatics who worship the ancient ruins of the world before?

  Althar nodded slowly.

  — They are no longer mere fanatics. They have accumulated an alarming power… and their influence extends far beyond what you can imagine.

  Kael felt a chill run down his spine.

  The Order of the Black Phoenix… He had heard whispers of them. Rumors of men clad in dark robes, wielding forbidden technologies, manipulating relics of the lost world.

  Weapons capable of razing entire cities.

  Kael took a deep breath.

  — And if I refuse?

  Althar did not flinch.

  — Then you will stand alone against enemies far greater than you. Solheim will not consider you an enemy… but we will not save you either.

  Kael felt the weight of the decision pressing upon him.

  Aligning with Solheim meant setting aside his independence, at least temporarily.

  But rejecting their offer… meant exposing himself to a far darker future.

  He needed time.

  — Give me one night to think.

  Althar nodded.

  — Make it quick, Lord Kael. The shadow of the Black Phoenix is spreading.

  Kael turned on his heel, his mind racing.

  Lysara stepped closer to him, her voice tense.

  — You’re not seriously considering this alliance, are you?

  Kael did not answer immediately. He observed for a moment the ashes of an old campfire, a remnant of another battle.

  He knew that whatever he decided… the world would never be the same.

  Dawn would bring an answer.

  And perhaps, the beginning of a new war.