That night, Letius sat beside a fire, its smoke drifting into the starry sky. Looking up, he watched as it seemed to mix with the hazy band of light in the heavens called the Last Shore, where the souls of the dead were said to rest. The crackling of the fire harmonized with the chirping of insects as the soldiers around the fire shifted as they settled down.

  They had ridden the rest of the day until they reached the base of Aligheiri’s Rest, where they set up tents, lit a fire, prepared a meal, and finally settled in for the night.

  Around the fire sat Letius and three soldiers. The other two soldiers had ridden to Castle Leora with news of his return as soon as they had met him. Taking the fastest horses, they would likely reach the castle around midnight. As for Aspemo and Alias, they had already retired for the night. After the excitement of meeting the soldiers, they had used up what little energy they had left.

  Taking a sip of warm water, Letius studied the men around him. Across from him, Aric Moore looked stronger and more relaxed than this afternoon, his mood almost giddy. Letius had never seen him like this.

  The other two, Abel Westmen and Gaius Lucan, were unfamiliar to him, or if he had met them before, he did not remember. Able looked like a warrior on the verge of being called seasoned: rough, stoic, and disciplined. He carried himself with a confidence that only years of soldiering could bring. Gaius, on the other hand, was young, only a year or two older than Aspemo.

  Holding the warm cup between his hands, Letius spoke, his words breaking the silence.

  “Aric, tell me everything that you know about the current situation. Don’t leave anything out.”

  Clearing his throat, Aric took a deep breath before beginning.

  “Less than two weeks ago, your father took our soldiers with him to witness a duel between Lord Baura and Lord Para. During the duel, they were attacked by an unknown army.”

  “An unknown army?” Letius asked. “What did they look like?”

  “They wore armor with no insignia or crest,” Able said, his hands clenching together. “They flew yellow banners and rode horses that I would have sworn came from Arioria, if not for the lack of patterns. Most Ariorian horses have a colorful, spotted coat. These were different—just solid brown.”

  “Able was with your father’s army,” Aric explained, his voice heavy with sorrow. “He was one of the few soldiers who managed to return.”

  Taking another sip of warm water, Letius nodded.

  “They purposely hid where they came from,” he said. “They were most likely foreign soldiers or mercenaries. If their horses were as good as those from Arioria, they must have come from the Horse Lords of the West beyond Kandula. Kandula trades with them, and Lord Bovera shares a border with Kandula. If he acquired mercenaries from another kingdom, they would be his only option.”

  He looked up.

  “How is our standing with Kandula?”

  An awkward silence fell before Aric cleared his throat. “During Queen Milina’s coronation, the prince of Kandula and Silkbug dueled. The prince of Kandula was humiliated. They lay some of the blame at our feet, but I doubt they would go so far as to orchestrate this.”

  We have a Queen now, Letius thought, his eyebrow lifting. Word had reached him that the king had passed, but news of a new Queen was new.

  “Queen Milina,” he repeated the name slowly. “How will she react to this?”

  “Lord Hector controls the kingdom,” Able said, his voice harder than Letius expected. “Queen Milina merely sits on the throne and listens. And he will do nothing.”

  “He won’t?” Letius questioned. That didn’t sound like Hector; of everyone in the capital, Hector was the most honorable. “That is a serious accusation,” he added, a hint of warning in his tone. “I know Lord Hector. He has always supported our House.”

  “I meant no disrespect, my lord,” Able said hurriedly, getting up and dropping to one knee. “It’s just that when House Nazau was destroyed, all he did was parade soldiers through the north before retreating. They never even saw combat.”

  “House Nazau was destroyed?” Letius said, his mind reeling. That was impossible—House Nazau was not a house that could simply vanish. What had happened during his exile? “Explain everything. From the moment I left, leave noting out!”

  Hours later, Letius sat by the fire, his mind slowly digesting everything that had happened in the last year and a half: the King’s death, religious unrest, General Calahan’s rebellion, the coronation, the duels between Great Houses, the fall of Nazau, and finally, the death of his own father and Lord Baura.

  It almost feels like everything is connected, he thought. The warm water in his cup sat long forgotten and cold. Perhaps it’s only because I am hearing it all at once, but I have a bad feeling I’m not wrong. Someone is pulling the strings. But who? It all begins with the King’s death.

  He looked at the three soldiers. “What you’ve told me is very concerning, but let us set it aside for now. How is the preparation for the upcoming siege? Can we beat Bovera and Para?”

  “With you back, yes, my lord,” Aric said confidently. “Lady Tricia has sent word to Lady Isles for aid. If she cuts off their supply lines, we only need to hold until they run out of food. At the latest, they’ll break for the autumn harvest.”

  “So, three to four months,” Gaius spoke for the first time, his voice trembling. “We might hold Bovera and Para that long, but if the army that killed Lord Leora returns?”

  There was a hint of panic in his voice. “Lord Letius, please, we must retreat. As long as a warrior capable of killing your father remains in the enemy army, we cannot win. We must wait for Lord Hector.”

  “How dare you!” Aric growled, his voice grumbling in his chest. Had Alias not been sleeping, he would have been shouting.

  “You know it’s true,” Gaius protested. “I will fight to the death, but we must be smart. Able tell him! You were there when Lord Leora fell!”

  Seeing the fear in Gaius’ eyes, Letius couldn’t blame him; Lord Leora had been the strongest warrior in Leora. “I will handle the man who killed my father,” he said before Able could respond. “Do not worry.”

  “My lord, I know your strength, but he is not a man one person can face alone,” Able said, his knuckles white as he clenched his hands. “We must surround him with multiple warriors. I have been devising a strategy. If we lure him between the outer and inner walls of Castle Leora, we can restrict his mobility. There, we can use fire and arrows to pin him while our warriors engage him as a group. We only need a way to bait him into the trap.”

  Gaius is afraid, but he is not a coward, Letius thought, watching the young man. And Able is desperate, but he is searching for solutions, however unrealistic. Trapping a warrior strong enough to kill Father is next to impossible.

  Standing up, Letius looked at the men gathered around the fire. They put their trust in me; I must give them hope. Without a word, he pulled off his shirt and turned his back to them.

  A collective gasp broke the silence.

  On the back of Letius’ neck was the Lion of Leora. The white lion looked almost lifelike, its teeth bared in a silent roar, its claws outstretched.

  “Arcane Master,” Aric breathed, his hands trembling. “Master… you’ve accomplished what only Lord Hector has achieved in our kingdom. You… You’ve brought great honor to our House. I always believed you would.”

  Feeling a flare of awkwardness, Letius pulled his shirt back on. Gaius no longer looked fearful, and a newfound confidence made Able sit up taller.

  “My lord,” Gaius said, his voice breaking. “I will follow you to the Last Shore and back. Forgive my cowardice. I was lost, but I am found.” He dropped to one knee.

  “My lord, I too will follow you for life,” Able added, kneeling beside Gaius.

  “I accept your pledges,” Letius said. He could not reject them; they had poured their soul into their words. “Stand. You do not need to kneel to me. Walk beside me as warriors.”

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  “Yes, my lord.”

  The remaining journey across Aligheiri’s Rest was uneventful, though the atmosphere had changed. Once Gaius and Able learned that Aspemo was Letius’s squire, they treated him as one of their own, teaching him everything they knew. As for Alias, they treated her like a princess, going so far as to sing songs and recite poetry for her, much to Aric’s horror.

  By the time the walls of Castle Leora came into view, it was almost late afternoon.

  Two great walls surrounded the fortress, both inner and outer walls built from massive stone blocks that towered above the houses below. Four towers rose along the outer wall, while a fifth, taller tower stood connected to the central keep.

  “Is that Castle Leora?!” Aspemo gasped, his eyes wide with awe.

  “That is Castle Leora—my ancestral home,” Letius replied, his gaze scanning the people running along the walls as they prepared for a possible siege.

  “Are all castles that big?” Alias asked, raising her little hands, her eyes shining with wonder.

  “No. Our castle is bigger than most. We are the jewel of the south,” Letius said, urging Midnight into a trot. “Let's go. I want to be inside within a couple of hours.”

  As they drew closer to the castle, horns began to sound. The lookouts had spotted them from afar.

  “Father, what’s that sound?” Alias asked, her curious head turning left and right, as she tried to locate its source.

  “The tower scouts saw us,” Aric explained, pointing to the tallest tower. “They’re alerting everyone that we’re approaching. Do you see that tower, Lady Alias? The one with the flag flying? The scouts are watching us from up there.”

  “Whoa! Can I go up there?” Alias exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. “From up there, I bet I could see the whole world!”

  “You can only go up if an adult goes with you,” Letius said firmly. “Promise me you won’t go up there alone. Alias, do you hear me?”

  “Yes, Father. I promise.”

  As they neared the walls, the massive doors of the castle swung open, and a small party of riders rode out to meet them.

  “Brother!”

  Hearing a familiar voice and seeing a rider waving furiously at the front of the group, Letius broke into a smile.

  “Edium!”

  He barely had time to dismount before Edium threw herself into his arms, burying her face against his chest.

  “Edium, you’ve grown so much,” Letius said softly, patting her head.

  Breaking apart, Letius turned to Alias, lifted her from the saddle, and gently set her down in front of his sister.

  “Alias, this is your Aunt Edium. Greet her properly.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aunt Edium. I am Alias,” she said, giving a small, polite bow.

  “Oh my, you’re adorable! You look just like Tricia when she was young!” Edium squealed, pulling her niece into a tight hug.

  “Where is Tricia?” Letius asked, looking for her.

  “She… she’s been organizing the wall defenses,” Edium replied quietly. “She hasn't slept in days. The remaining soldiers are starting to worry about her.” Guilt flickered across her face. “I don’t think she wants to see you now.”

  Taking a deep breath to steady his thoughts, Letius nodded.

  “Let's go back. Lead the way.”

  Entering through the grand castle gates, Letius, Alias, and Aspemo were met with wild cheering. Men and women rushed from their work to see them, their exhausted faces lighting up with renewed hope. As the crowd grew larger and larger, a cheer rose, growing louder and louder with each chant.

  “Leora! Leora! Leora! Long live the Lion of the South! Long live the Lion of War!”

  Old men and women wept openly, their weathered faces splitting into wide smiles, many of them clutching one another for support. Around them, boys and girls too young to remember Letius stared at him with open admiration. They had never heard of him until early that morning, but what the elders told them sent their imagination racing.

  “The youngest Arcane Lord ever,” one young boy whispered. A sword was strapped to his side, which looked like a greatsword compared to his small frame. “My grandfather told me that during a tournament in the capital, he beat ten Arcane Warriors. He was fifteen.”

  “My gran told me he became an Arcane Warrior when he was only ten,” a girl next to him added, her hands clutching a handful of flowers. She tossed them toward Letius and shouted. “The strongest warrior in our kingdom!”

  A deafening cheer rose from those around her.

  “Brother, do you hear them?” Edium laughed, tears in her eyes. “It’s the first time since Father left that I’ve seen such joy! You’ve given them new life! You don’t understand how much we needed you—how much we needed hope.”

  Smiling to hide his insecurity, Letius waved to the crowd. I hope I can live up to their expectations.

  Pushing through the crowd, with the help of Aric and his soldiers, the group finally entered the main castle, the echoes of cheering following them inside.

  “Edium, where is Tricia?” Letius asked quietly. “I should speak with her.”

  “She’s in Father’s study,” Edium answered quietly.

  Nodding, Letius mustered up his courage.

  “Edium, can you show Alias and Aspemo around?” he asked. “I think it would be better if I talk to her alone.”

  “I understand,” Edium said, kneeling beside Alias. “Alias, come with me. Have you ever eaten a pastry? Our chef is quite good. I'm sure you'll love it.”

  “Pastry?” Alias asked, turning to look at her father. “What’s a pastry?”

  “It's a sweet treat,” Letius replied gently. “Follow your aunt and stay out of trouble. Aspemo, please watch out for her.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Aspemo answered.

  As he walked to his father's study, Letius was startled when the guards snapped to attention, fists pressed to their chests.

  “My lord, welcome home,” they said in unison, opening the doors for him.

  Nodding to them in thanks, Letius stepped inside, his heart beating against his chest.

  It’s just Tricia, but it almost feels like I’m meeting Father, he thought. Why am I so nervous?

  Behind their father’s desk sat Tricia, her beautiful face gaunt from exhaustion.

  “Welcome back, brother,” she said flatly, looking up at him. There was no emotion in her voice.

  “Tricia… it’s been a while,” Letius said. “You don’t know how much I missed you. I’m glad to see you.”

  Tricia looked older, her face thinner than he remembered. Creases had settled around her sharp eyes, and her light blonde hair had grown darker. Yet, in many ways, she looked the same as he remembered—the way she held herself, the way she brushed a strand of hair from her face, the way she sat. The fire within her still burned hot.

  “Since you left, Father, Uncle Conrad, and Karl have died,” she snapped, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not in the mood to welcome you.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Letius said. “I don’t have the words to convey how I feel. I can’t undo the past, but as Father’s son, it’s my duty to avenge him.” He hesitated. “However, if you don’t want me here, I’ll leave. I don’t want us to fight. I’ll avenge Father differently.”

  “It does not matter what I want or think,” Tricia replied coldly. “You are still Father’s firstborn. House Leora is still yours by birthright. Now that Father is gone, the lands of Leora belong to you.”

  There was an anger in her eyes that threatened to burst forth.

  “Tricia, please… don't be like that,” Letius pleaded, reaching toward her.

  She stood up abruptly, slamming her hand on the desk. Her face was white with fury.

  “No matter how much I hate you, I can’t send you away!” she shouted. “I can’t do this alone! Ever since we were children, everyone called you a prodigy at war, almost as if you were born to war itself! I knew the moment you returned by the cheers and celebration from outside.”

  She pointed toward the window.

  “You abandoned us, tossed us aside like garbage, spat on Father’s wishes. And yet, when you return, the people treat you like a hero! I want you gone, but I can’t take away Leora’s only chance to survive!”

  Each one of her words struck Letius like physical blows. Guilt and regret flooded into him like a torrent.

  “I'm sorry,” he whispered.

  “So am I, brother. So am I,” she spat back, her eyes red.

  “But, Tricia, you must understand, I was not born a prodigy,” Letius said, his voice strained. “To earn Father’s approval, I trained from the moment I woke until Mother dragged me inside, worried for my health. You might not remember, but back then, whenever House Salizia was in trouble, Father left. He always prioritized the royal family over ours. He never showed me the love and kindness he showed the rest of you. He raised me to be the next ruler of Leora, not as his son.”

  His jaw tightened.

  “You say I abandoned our family, but after Mother’s death, I lost the only person who loved me for who I was.”

  “Lost the only person!” Tricia shouted, her hands clenched in tight fists. “Karl loved you as if you were a god! Even now, the wooden sword you gave him is in his room. The maids aren’t even allowed to touch it because it was his most treasured possession!”

  “His love was idolization, not the love family should have for one another,” Letius shot back. He closed his eyes, picturing his brother. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. “You’re right. By leaving, I placed a heavy burden on his shoulders—on your shoulders. It’s a sin I can never wash away.”

  Silence filled the room. Neither of them knew what to say.

  After a moment, Tricia spoke, her voice trembling.

  “Why did you choose her over everyone? Why did you choose your own happiness over that of everyone else? I can never forgive you.” Her voice broke. “I lost my fiancé, too. He died in the same ambush as Father and Karl.”

  Letius’s breath caught.

  “I… I didn’t know,” he stammered. “I’m so sorry.” He lowered his head. “At that time, I felt so suffocated. When Father forced me to choose between what was killing me and the woman I loved, I chose love.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I felt as if I had no choice.”

  Tricia stared at him with cold-hearted eyes. After a moment, she nodded curtly.

  “I need time,” she said. “We’ll speak later.”

  “I understand.” Letius hesitated. “I’ll introduce you to my daughter later. She’s named Alias—like the poet you used to like.”

  The corners of Tricia’s lips twitched, a momentary smile flitting across her face.

  “I would like that,” she said softly, waving him away.

  Walking out of the room, Letius went out to the small garden outside, wiping the tears from his eyes. Standing among the still flowers and bushes, he drew his wife’s black sword, feeling the terrifying power that radiated from it.

  He drew Aether through the crest on his neck, rotating it to his heart, then through the rest of his body. Strength flooded into him, and golden rays of light enveloped him. Taking a steadying breath, he slowly guided the Aether into the Blade. It was the first time he had tried with this sword.

  For a brief moment, the Aether paused when it touched the black steel, testing the foreign object. Then it rushed forward, pouring into the sword like it was made for it.

  Letius blinked.

  A familiar sensation touched his mind. The black sword whispered to him—words he could not understand—yet it almost sounded like his wife’s voice.

  Closing his eyes, he pushed the whispers aside and continued to circulate power through his body. The golden light flowed into the blade, shimmering into a silvery hue before returning to him. Slowly, he began to move, cycling through each form of his House’s Martial System. With every swing of his sword, more and more energy seemed to radiate off him, and with every beat of his heart, he glowed like the sun.

  As the final form finished, he transitioned seamlessly into the forms the shadow warrior had shown him. The silver light from the sword surrounded him like a shroud. This time, the forms felt easier, almost as if he finally understood their true meaning. But the feeling was fleeting, vanishing almost as soon as it arrived.

  When he opened his eyes, he realized the sun had set, and the moon was shining down on him.