Weeks after his return to Leora, Letius stood on the battlements watching the villagers train. He could not help but sigh. The disorganized men and women scrambled about, bumping into one another as they struggled to follow his instructions.

  Maybe this is not the way to train them, he thought for the hundredth time today.

  Knowing full well that it was impossible to train a true battalion in time, Letius had abandoned the traditional way of training. Gone were the marching drills, the elegant swordplay, and the complex formations. Instead, he focused solely on the brutal reality of defending the walls.

  The villagers huddled along the stone wall, hunched over long training spears. Now and then, they would step out of cover, stabbing down into the space where imaginary enemies were trying to climb up.

  Taking a deep breath, Letius placed his hand on the stone battlement, feeling its cool, rough texture. At least Father kept the walls and battlements well maintained, he told himself. He looked toward Aspemo and nodded.

  “Ladders!” Aspemo shouted.

  The command set the next stage of the drill in motion. Soldiers positioned below quickly hoisted ladders against the wall, shouting at the villagers to push them back.

  “Quickly now! Every ladder needs to be pushed off now! Move! Move! Move!”

  The veteran soldiers’ voices echoed along the walls, prompting a group of exhausted villagers stationed near the stairs to lunge out from cover. In their hands, the villagers carried long poles fitted with crescent-shaped hooks—hooks designed to catch the rails of the ladders.

  “Push! Push! Push!”

  Their faces tight with determination, the villagers caught the rungs of the ladders and shoved, sending the ladders tumbling back to the ground.

  A cheer went up.

  Turning to Aspemo, Letius commanded. “Arrows.”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  Lifting a horn into the air, Aspemo blew into it. As the clear note soared into the air, archers standing in the courtyard released a volley of arrows in unison. A swarm of headless arrows arched over the battlements like a flock of starlings, whistling as they cast a momentary shadow on the villagers below.

  “They’re getting better. It looks like they can all shoot over the wall now,” Edium said, appearing at Letius’s side.

  “Yes, but it won't be enough. We need more time,” Letius muttered. The stress was making him irritable. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days.

  “I know,” Edium reminded him gently, “but you said it yourself—the fact they haven't attacked us yet means they won't attack this year.”

  “We need to know why they haven't attacked us, but our scouts are barely hanging on,” Letius sighed. He gestured toward a heavy iron pot suspended over the gate.

  “Oil!” Aspemo bellowed to a team of five.

  The five boys scrambled to the pot, tipping its water contents over the edge to mimic a boiling oil defense. One of them lit a torch and tossed it onto the wet ground below.

  As the drill continued, Letius let Aspemo take over as he walked the battlements, personally correcting the villagers’ grip on their spears.

  “Brother, you should be commanding, not teaching them how to stab,” Edium said, stepping out of the way of a villager whom Letius had just corrected.

  “Our people need to see me. Especially the younger ones,” Letius explained. “The greatest advantage we have is my strength. By training them myself, I can earn their trust. When the real fighting starts, I will pull as much attention to me as possible. The more enemies concentrate on me, the less pressure falls on our soldiers.” He paused, looking out over the horizon. “If our soldiers trust my strength, they will be able to fight without worrying about me. This is the way our House has fought for centuries.”

  They had just reached the far tower when a messenger came sprinting up the stairs.

  “My Lord! We received word from the scouts! Salizia has sent an army to aid us! We are saved!”

  The villagers around Letius broke into cheers, their exhausted faces lighting up with sudden joy.

  “This is good news! How long until they arrive!” Letius asked, waving his hand at Aspemo, to pause the drill.

  “My Lord, they should be here within the hour.”

  “An hour?” Letius repeated, his mood instantly souring.

  Our scouts are almost useless!

  If they could only tell him an army was one hour away, it would never be enough time to prepare a proper defense. It was a harsh reminder that their scouting network was far too thin. He needed more soldiers. He needed more time!

  “Aspemo! Finish the training for now. I want everyone to rest,” Letius shouted, his voice carrying across the wall.

  Turning back, he lowered his voice. “Edium, find Tricia. Tell her Salizia has sent us an army. We need to go meet them.”

  Less than an hour later, Letius rode Midnight at the head of a small company. Tricia, Edium, Aspemo, Alias, and a handful of soldiers followed in his wake. The atmosphere among the men was one of excitement and relief, the soldiers smiling happily.

  The reinforcements from Salizia would guarantee their safety.

  Moments after clearing the outer walls, a force of two thousand riders surged into view, the phoenix flag of House Salizia billowing crimson behind them.

  “Lord Hector, it has been a while,” Letius said, pulling his mount to a halt before the leader of the approaching army.

  “Letius! I never thought I would see you again!” Hector shouted. “How long has it been? Seven years?”

  The genuine relief in his voice caught Letius off guard. Hector was the last person he had expected to welcome him after he had denounced his House.

  He’s aged more than I expected, Letius thought, noticing Hector’s graying hair. Last time I saw him, his hair was more brown than gray.

  “Over ten years, My Lord, Letius replied, dismounting and bringing a closed fist to his chest. “The last time we met was at the Spring Festival hosted by Salizia.”

  “Is that so? I seemed to have lost track of time,” Hector laughed, swinging his leg over his saddle and jumping to the ground. He stepped closer and grasped Letius’s hand. Their calloused hands gripped each other in a tight embrace.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Locking eyes with Letius, Hector’s expression shifted, his voice turning heavy. “I am sorry about what happened to your father. It was my responsibility, and I failed to protect your family.”

  “Lord Hector, there is nothing for you to apologize for,” Letius responded, his shoulders tightening. “The blame lies on my shoulders. I should have been there for him.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment, Letius, but we have both failed him,” Hector said sadly. “Your father was a great man.”

  “Thank you, My Lord.”

  “There is one thing that I can do for you immediately,” Hector offered. “Now that you have returned, I will petition Queen Milina to send the documents officially naming you the ruler of Leora in your father’s stead.”

  “I am in your debt, Lord Hector,” Letius said, lowering his head.

  In truth, the documents did not mean much and were largely ceremonial. In the minds of the people here, the laws of the royal family carried little weight. The lands of Leora were ruled by House Leora, and the people’s allegiance was to them, not the crown.

  “No, it is we of House Salizia who are indebted to you,” Hector insisted. “Your father was more than a friend; he was our strongest ally. The shame of not being able to help him is something we will never wash away. Allow me to apologize once again on behalf of House Salizia. If there is anything that we can do for you, please tell me.”

  Forcing a smile on his face, Letius nodded. “Your kind words and consideration are more than enough.”

  “Lord Hector,” Tricia’s voice cut through the air before Letius could continue. “There is one request we must make.”

  Hector turned to her, curious. “Lady Tricia?”

  “As you know, with the death of our Father and the destruction of our army, we no longer have the forces required to defend our borders. I request that a portion of your soldiers remain here when you return to the capital.”

  “Does House Leora require more soldiers?” Hector asked, frowning.

  “We do,” Tricia said firmly. She dismounted and walked closer, her back straight, eyes clear. “Once you leave, there is no doubt in my mind that Lord Bovera and Para will invade us. Currently, we are training the villagers, but they are not soldiers. Lord Hector, I must remind you, if we fall, Bovera and Para will march on Ruscell. Once they beat Lady Isles, they will control the entirety of Southern Vanura.”

  She stopped next to Letius. “Lord Hector, how do you think the combined forces of Leora and Baura were defeated? According to Lord Yansen, Lord Baura’s nephew, an unknown force of over a thousand cavalry fought alongside our enemies.”

  “An unknown force?” Hector’s head snapped toward Letius for confirmation.

  “My sister is correct,” Letius replied.

  “Did Bovera and Para betray Vanura?” Hector roared, his hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of his saber.

  “I believe that they have formed an alliance with Kandula; they are traitors,” Tricia stated coldly.

  “This… this conversation needs to happen in a more secure location.” Letius stepped in quickly, his pulse quickening with the fear that someone might say something irreversible. “Lord Hector, let us continue this in the castle.”

  “A wise suggestion,” Hector agreed. “Let us go.”

  The trio soon reconvened in the Great Hall. As they sat around the heavy oak table, the atmosphere grew thick with tension.

  “Letius, I need to know everything that has transpired,” Hector commanded, his voice low. “Omit nothing.”

  Clearing his throat, Letius began, his deep voice filling the silence.

  “According to Tricia, my father was asked to oversee a duel between Lord Baura and Lord Para. Lord Para had accused Lord Baura of sheltering his daughter's killer. During the duel, Lord Bovera broke the peace, launching a surprise attack with his army.”

  He paused, leaning forward. “From that point on, accounts scatter, but they all share one common detail: an unknown army, flying a yellow flag, joined the side of Lord Bovera and Para. Most troubling of all, an Arcane Master of unknown origin led them. He was the one to kill our father.”

  As Letius finished, he took a moment to calm the deep ocean of hatred that raged within him. It would not be wise to let Hector see this side of him.

  Hector sat in silence, studying the siblings’ expressions with a frown on his face. “If I had to guess,” he finally said. “It is more likely that Kandula is using Lord Bovera and Para as pawns. During Queen Milina’s coronation, a prince from Kandula was humiliated in a duel. King Claudio may blame us for that. Letius, I don't know if you were informed, but House Nazau fell a couple of months ago.”

  “I have heard the news, but I assumed there was more to it,” Letius said, his stomach sinking. “How did Nazau fall? How is that possible?”

  “They were overrun by a bandit army led by Borvak, the Bandit King. Until now, I dismissed them as a minor threat. A mistake I will not repeat. Since then, rumors have circulated that House Galra cooperated with the outlaws. Now that both Leora and Baura are on the brink of destruction, I fear that there is a greater ploy in play.”

  “Bovera, Para, and Galra… an alliance with Kandula,” Tricia gasped. Her cold composure broke, revealing fear for the first time.

  “That is the worst-case scenario, but it's starting to look more and more likely.” Hector turned to Letius. “Letius, I will lend you one thousand cavalry, but on one condition.”

  “Condition, my lord?”

  “A simple one. I wish to have a duel with you. Your father always claimed you were a genius, born once in a generation. I must confirm your strength myself. Salizia cannot lend you soldiers if your cause is hopeless.”

  “I accept. Please, follow me to the back garden,” Letius replied, standing and reaching for his sword.

  Facing each other in the garden, Letius drew his weapon. The black blade seemed to distort the air around it, greedily pulling at the Aether in his body.

  “That blade…” Hector gasped, his eyes widening. “Where did you get it?”

  “It belonged to my late wife,” Letius replied. As he spoke, the sword seemed to drink his very emotions, leaving him a cold, emotionless beast.

  “I may have underestimated you,” Hector admitted, raising his great saber into position. His eyes remained glued to the black blade. “I don’t know where she acquired such a thing, but just by looking at it… it feels as if it wants to devour me.”

  “In a way, it has devoured me,” Letius said. His own voice sounded distant to him, almost as if he were hearing himself through a thick wall.

  The two Arcane Masters stood apart from each other, poised, their Arcane light painting the surrounding air into violent shades of red, orange, blue, and black. Seemingly as if there was a signal, the two men moved, a blur of deadly steel clashing against each other.

  Rotating his body in a tight circle, Hector unleashed the First Form from the Stance of the Young Phoenix: Banking Flight.

  As his power-coated blade cut through the air, Letius responded by stepping forward—Stance of Speed, Third form: Lion’s surge.

  Waves of force reverberated as they fought back and forth, each one stepping into different stances faster than the trained eye could follow.

  Roaring mightily, Letius brought his sword down, the blade seemingly bypassing Hector's defense; Stance of Power: Last Judgment.

  Recognizing the destructive weight of the swing, Hector leapt backwards, the terrifying black blade missing his face by inches. Defensively swinging his saber, he covered his retreat with a defensive counter: Tenth Form from the Stance of the Zephyr: Desert Wind.

  The blade whistled by Letius’s neck, forcing him to stop his advance.

  If either man lost focus for even a fraction of a second, the result would have been fatal.

  “Tricia, what's happening?”

  Tearing her eyes from the breathtaking battle, Tricia saw guards running towards them, Edium in the lead, Alias holding her hand.

  “Lord Hector wants to test Letius’ strength,” Tricia said, waving at Alias to come to her. “Alias, come here. Your father is fighting the strongest warrior in the Kingdom. I want you to burn this image in your mind. This is the power of our House—your House.”

  “Yes, Aunt Tricia,” Alias whispered.

  Gripping the small girl’s shoulders, Tricia turned back to the fray, shouting over her shoulder to the approaching guards.

  “No one is to disturb this duel!”

  The guards stood in stunned silence as Letius and Hector exchanged dozens of rapid strikes, each one capable of killing an Arcane Knight.

  “How can they move so fast?” a guard whispered, his eye wide. Flinching, he watched Letius deflect an invisible swing, the shriek of clashing metal, the only proof something had happened. “I’ve seen Arcane Lords duel, but it was nothing like this.”

  The air seemed to distort as their blades cut through the Arcane Light surrounding them, mixing the different colors into a dizzying display of violence.

  “Their Auctoritas is on another level,” another muttered, stepping back. Even at the edge of the garden, the pressure from the two warriors made sweat break out on his brow. “I feel like passing out.”

  Stepping into the Stance of Speed, Letius lashed out twice. The twin strikes caused the very air to bristle with residual power, the afterimages of his blade frozen in space for a split second.

  Hector met the assault with a barrage of his own, attempting to overwhelm Letius with the Eighth Form: Suffocation.

  With a thunderous bang, the two warriors recoiled from one another.

  “Letius, we should stop now,” Hector smiled, lowering the point of his saber to the ground. “If we continue, I’m afraid we will not be able to control our power. The entire garden will be destroyed.”

  “I understand, Lord Hector,” Letius agreed. His expressionless face slowly returned to its normal self.

  “You are stronger than I was at your age,” Hector praised, sheathing his weapon. “If you continue at this pace, you’ll take my title as the Kingdom’s strongest in a matter of years.”

  “You honor me with your words, Lord Hector,” Letius replied, stepping forward to shake Hector’s hands.

  As they clasped hands, a defining cheer rose from the spectators.

  “Vanura! Vanura! Vanura!” the guards screamed. “Long live the Lion. Long live the Phoenix!”

  Smiling at the cheering men, Hector leaned closer and promised. “You shall have your thousand.”