Conclusion to a Conquest

The glorious white light of freedom has dawned upon us once more.

In one day our lives have changed and we have awoken from our long-lasting nightmare unto unanticipated triumph and relief. 

Some time has passed since I last wrote and in that time a dramatic change has occurred to the outcome of the war. 

Palkaan has been defeated!

From my last account you might find it hard to believe, and I assure you, the feeling is mutual, though I have witnessed it with my own eyes.

It was only in my wildest dreams that victory would be that swift, and I can already feel the effect it has in my bones.

Yes, my weariness still remains, but this new zephyr of hope has lifted the heavy burden from my shoulders, making the fatigue bearable.

Despite my outward appearance, I feel alive!

Alive inside, and full of joy and gratitude to God.

Would you like me to explain how it took place?

The details can be spared to avoid overwhelming you.

Continuing from my last account, we remained in South Larlis for some time when we were met by peasants coming from the port of Diamond Water.

Lennox had gathered inhabitants of the devastated cities Palkaan had left behind and sent them on ships to reinforce us.

Meanwhile Palkaan had destroyed Darvern and was beginning to approach us by way of Vernik Meadow, most likely with the hope of doing the same to us in South Larlis.

But unbeknown to Palkaan a plan was set into action that would smite him in his pride.

The peasants that arrived wore uniforms of Agmar soldiers, and I discovered Lennox's own men had traded them for their clothing, in accordance with a plan my brother had concocted.

We waited until Palkaan was in the middle of Vernik Meadow and closed in on him.

Lennox, with soldiers dressed as peasants, came in from the East, Asram's forces, from the South, and the peasants, in soldiers' armor, and my troops from the North and North-west.

Like a cornered rabbit, he had no choice but to face one of us, and since Asram and I had the larger forces, Lennox appeared the weakest link.

He soon discovered otherwise when the said weak peasants fought as fully trained soldiers.

Palkaan fought furiously, but to no avail; he could not retreat or withdraw to form a new battle line, because we surrounding him.

He was caught in a trap!

Jrosselmyr Yendon, the Rebel King of Damar, who commanded half of Palkaan's troops, and had joined with him at Vernik Meadow by way of sea, finished it for us.

He predicted his impending doom and called for a retreat.

In the confusion, Palkaan's men did not know who to obey, and most followed Jrosselmyr as he found a break in our lines and escaped the way he came, leaving Palkaan vulnerable to our attacks and ultimately delivering him into our hands.

Lennox pursued the Rebel King and his men, but by then majority of them had dropped their weapons in surrender, leaving only Jrosselmyr accompanied by a handful of his men to be captured.

As manacles were placed on Palkaan, the man who had destroyed so many lives and inflicted so much heartache to people everywhere, I could not believe my eyes.

Was it really over?

Was this the end of all our journeys across the world as we raced to defend the next place Palkaan had assaulted?

I could not fully comprehend all of what it meant, having been accustomed to this harried lifestyle for many months, until later when I was alone.

The relief was overwhelming, and I felt like crying because of everything that had happened.

But now that some time has passed I am overjoyed by the deliverance the Lord has blessed us with.

We are free of the tyrant that plagued our lands and homes and banished laughter from our hearts!

We can live again, even if it means starting over with some.

The end of bloodshed has come.

Hopefully it will not return any time soon.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

 Queen of Krespania

A Dark Failure

Weariness has sunk into my bones, much like the sun has sunk in the west of South Larlis, where we are at this moment. 

A chill has fallen on the land, and a numbness inside of me.

My constant thought has been a prayer for victory, and for this grueling war to be at an end.

But with the outcome as it is, my hope is dwindling.

My slumber has vanished as of late, either being replaced by restless thoughts and worries, or by harried planning. 

What little rest I do receive is not enough, leaving me still tired when I wake.

Such as at present, I find it more comforting to write than to rest. 

I wonder, is Palkaan even human?

 How can he continue this game of cat-and-mouse and not feel the strain as we do?

Will he not tire of it and surrender?

It must be his greed and lust for power that feeds and drives him on past human strength. 

Or an inner wickedness controlling him...

I might as well explain what has transpired that has driven me to this point of dismay, though I must admit it is not so instantaneous as much as it has gradually effected me.

A few days ago our troops, (Asram's and mine), traveled north into the plains of Unoomad, when we unexpectedly crossed paths with Palkaan and his men.

We formed a defense line, and took part in a brief but bloody skirmish.

In the end we were forced to retreat being overpowered by the multitude of his soldiers, and fled to the southern country, and to the city of Manderk.

He followed taking control of Tion, and then divided his troops into two groups.

One division pursued us, and the other bypassed us to the west and overtook Cirdon, the capital of Unoomad.

We knew the city Manderk was not a fitting strength against Palkaan, much as Tion was not, and withdrew further North to the fortified citadel of South Larlis. 

Now you can understand my dejection.

It seems as though we are always retreating, and Palkaan ever getting stronger and closer to victory.

He seizes any city and land within his reach, and does not halt long enough for us to recover or retaliate.

Will we be able to endure more of this?

Or will our cause die, and us with it?

Dear friend, 

I wish you could speak to me, and share with me an encouraging word or a comforting verse of Scripture. 

For I fear I may not survive much longer in this hopeless state. 

-Emerald de Gavrillac

 Queen of Krespania

Victory Within Our Grasp

We sailed into Tion, completing the last leg of our journey upon The Golden Dawn.

If only it were the last leg of the war. 

The voyage was not as grueling as before having been reequipped with supplies from our Vez-Dûn friends, and the only testing was that of our patience in the weeks upon the waves that followed. 

My anxiety met a climax as I pondered the welfare of my brother in those last days.

But upon arriving in the port, I discovered Lennox had graced me by sending a letter of his recent whereabouts and health, bringing me abreast concerning the confusion wreaked upon the continent of Unoomad and Cressenar. 

I will disclose the contents of his note below:

Dear Emerald,

This is my account of the events that happened these past weeks:

We stealthily approached Unoomad not knowing whether Palkaan was there. 

A few of my servants found that he was further south in Cressenar. 

We sailed through the Unoomad River and some time later we sailed upon Tarqu. 

 A few days later Palkaan's banners came waving on the southern horizon. 

After many days of a partial standstill, an arrow hit me in the left shoulder while I was on the dock. 

It was not a mortal wound, but in fact I recovered exceedingly well. 

I had a lot of time to wonder what ever happened to my thirty troops who were caught in Erreli-Lion; could they be with Palkaan in Atoe? 

Sri-Qing an Agmarian Prince arrived unexpectedly with his academy friends: Franchot Fon'Dam and Jacob Dallahandro; I told them of the situation and they came up with a marvelous plot. 

The three snuck into Tarqu, the city occupied by the enemy. 

But some time went by, and not hearing anything of them, I began to worry. 

After all, they are still amateurs, and I must help them, on account I was responsible for getting them into this mess. 

I crept into Atoe, the enemy-occupied city across the channel. 

It was surprisingly simple, I thought Palkaan's guards would much more vigilant. 

The night was warm, damp, and drizzling, and the hour was late, while I perused the city. 

I noticed an obscure figure in the street coming toward me, and hid in the shadows as the shady character went splashing by and then disappeared around the corner. 

I glanced down at the footprints left by the shenanigan, and just as I expected the footprints were of a split-toed shoe mainly worn by San-Vey's Shinobi legions, but assassins tend to wear them too. 

I followed him into the Castle of Atoe, where I found Palkaan sitting on the throne and beside him was Jrosselmyr Yendon, the Rebel King, whom our father sealed into the castle of Damar, so that he may die for his treason. 

Ask me not of how he escaped! 

I returned to the streets, where smiling Franchot came up behind me, and took me to his comrades. 

From them I discovered my troops were alive and well within an enemy garrison near the Atoe castle. When the clock struck mid-night I penetrated the garrison and sprung the prisoners. 

I loaded the ten dwarves into the horse-drawn cart we bought, on account that they cannot run quite as fast as us humans and Vez-Duns. 

Here, I will state the scenario as plainly as possible: In the southern most part of Unoomad is the riverside city called Tarqu; in the northern most part of Cressenar is the riverside city called Atoe. 

Both cities are split by the Lathan's channel, and in the north end of Atoe is a castle perched upon a two-hundred foot tall pedestal, (the kind you see in the desert), with a spiral inclined path leading from the ground, up to the top of the pedestal. 

And directly north of the castle is a mile and a half stone bridge that stretches across the channel. 

Both cities' castles and pedestals are identical they are just inverted, where Atoe's castle and half of the stone bridge looks north, Tarqu's looks south. 

And in the middle of the bridge is a large guard tower. 

I think that is all of the geography that is key to my story.

Anyway, as we peaked the incline I set fire to the top of the cart that held the dwarves, as a distraction. The cart driven by Franchot, blazed down the bridge, and the passengers lunged out of the burning cart and off the bridge into the water below, where Sri-Qing rescued them in a boat he commandeered. 

The Vez-Duns and us, Humans, ran to Tarqu until our lungs were a fiery furnace and our legs braking at the knee, but we could not stop, for the enemies archers were lining the front of the castle at our rear, ready to fell us at any moment. 

Just then Palkaan saw that I was in the midst of them, being between their castle and the central guard tower, and chose to fight me personally. 

He strolled out to me in his finely polished gold armor and his rich purple cape, which dragged the ground behind him. 

His sword clashed my shield with great might, I could feel the impact tear the tissue in my shoulder. We had recently discovered explosives on one of the bridge's supports on enemy-occupied Atoe's side. 

I slowly fell back until Palkaan was on Tarqu's side of the bridge, with hopes that we could detonate the explosives while Palkaan was on our side; if we could succeed at this, the war would be at an end. 

Sri-Qing lit the fuse, then I heard a guard yelling to Palkaan about the set explosives. 

Palkaan hesitated a second, then charged with great force back toward the castle. 

The bomb went off, and he lunged with all his might as the stone bridge began to dissolve beneath him, landing safely on the other side. 

It was over; I got my troops back, and Palkaan got away. 

My shoulder ached as I walked slowly back to Tarqu. 

Palkaan promptly repaired the stone bridge with a wooden drawbridge, and built multiple bridges across the channel, with drawbridges on their ends. 

A week went by before I heard the invasion alarm clanging. 

Immediately screams and yells where heard throughout the city of Tarqu. 

I told my generals to evacuate the peasants, soldiers, and nobles and through all the commotion, I lost my escort and anyone familiar. 

People were running frantically, and by the time I got my bearings, Palkaan's soldiers were approaching. 

I swiftly fled into a nearby building only to find seven abandoned, orphans. 

Plotting a war is easier then protecting seven adolescents. 

I mean, violence is an old acquaintance of mine, but blood and death is not something children should see, especially at their age; (the oldest is not yet thirteen.) 

Anyhow, I found an enclosed wagon that was being guarded, and I told the orphans to linger behind for a second. 

Meanwhile I snuck around and slammed the first guard into the side of the wagon, and flipped the second one over my shoulder and onto the ground; the third I slew discreetly, and slid him out of sight. 

With the children in the wagon, I barreled down the streets of Tarqu; guards and soldiers tried to block the street, while others pursued us on horseback. 

We finally broke out of the city, and traveled relentlessly west through the sandy dunes of southern Unoomad. 

We traveled through the oasis village of Ciridin, and came to Fort Sardick, the final location in my account so far. 

I hope things are going well for you and Queen Acora. 

As for me, considering all that I have endured, I am marginally great.

Sincerely,                      

      Emperor Lennox de Gavrillac     

                            of the        

                    Agmar Empire

The nearness of capturing Palkaan has brought on a surge of excitement in myself. 

If only we could attempt this again.

If only we would be successful; then the war would end.

Emerald de Gavrillac

 Queen of Krespania

An Audience With Egotism, Pt. 2

Inside my cabin I could share my true feelings with my Lady-in-Waiting about what had just taken place.
“Meredith, I truly wonder if going to war is as stressing as that meeting was.” I said, lowering myself to the divan.

“I pity you, Milady, having to face him like you did. But despite that, you handled it to perfection, in my opinion.” My Lady-In-Waiting poured a cup of Jomacha and delivered it to my hands.
“There is one thing I am curious about. You indicated that he knew your ancestor Cedric, but how could that be possible? That would make him at least-”

“Three thousand years old? He was actually born in the first age,  and precisely three thousand, five hundred and seventy-three years old.”

Meredith's eyes widened. “But he looks only to be about thirty years of age! I would never have thought him that old!”

I told her only what I had been told which was that he was a Langilike Vez-Dûn, a race of Vez-Dûn that was blessed with long life. There were only a few that existed of this race, and he was the most prominent.

“Yes, he does look young, and he is handsome too.” I admitted. “But Meredith, what is your thoughts?”

“Do you wish to know my opinion, or what I see?”
“I consider them one and the same. Speak freely to me.”
Meredith had proven her unique gift of insight and intuition of the real nature of people many a time at the court of Krespania, and I trusted her judgment.

“Simply put, he is egotistical and entirely selfish. I do not think anything I see will amount to anything others cannot see. His self-consuming is obvious.” She paused for a moment as if to think.
“I credit him with this: he is completely honest. What he says carries no deceit. But he has little fear of anyone being more intelligent or more superior, and subsequently, he has no faith in his fellow man.
“I must admit his character and peculiarities leave me wondering as to what has occurred in his life to result in such a merciless and proud nature. Has the power he has born these many years made him thus? I cannot help but wonder.”

“Well, it has not helped him any that there have been several assassination attempts upon his life. And I could probably say he has not any faith in man because he has lived through so many generations where all have proven their wickedness; He no doubt feels it would be in vain to do so.” I said, then added with a smile. “Not that he is any saint himself.”

I sipped from my Jomacha. “Though there is a mysterious in him, that I find intriguing, despite his intimidation. And something else to be admired...but I am not quite sure of what it is. Perhaps it is the authority in which he speaks and moves with, or his stalwart discipline. Hhmm, I doubt we shall meet again, since invitations to Isoloyia are very rare, so I shall probably never know.”

And that was the end of the discussion of King Hyndralad de Gundalia.
Once all of my armada had sufficient resources we set sail, where we are today: heading to Unoomad to face the trials reserved for us there.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
 Queen of Krespania

An Audience With Egotism, Pt. 1

At last, Isoloyia!

I could never find a more welcoming sight at that moment than it's tall towers of white stone gleaming in the sun, as pure and noble as a brilliant star.

Embedded high upon the mountainside, overlooking the city stretched out beneath it, stood the royal Vez-Dûn citadel and home of King Hyndralad de Gundalia.
As with all his structures, they represented his rule and character: cold, magnificent, dominating yet admirable and glorious.

That is according to the reports that have been told to me.
And only now have I had the chance to confirm or deny those rumors.
Though it mattered little to me, as long as I received my supplies.

When we put into port the steeds were unloaded and my company (which consisted of Meredith, my captain, two generals, four soldiers and my bodyguards) and I rode to the citadel, where we were escorted by the guards in their disciplined protocol through the wide halls to the throne room.

The interior boasted of opulence and grandeur though not ostentatiously; the architecture and décor was  set in such a way that it appeared clean, economical and without extravagance. It was as if there was not a pretension to impress any one, but that this majesty came simply and effortlessly.
The throne room was the same: the marble shone almost as bright as the snow in the winter sun, and great pillars rose to the tall ceiling on either side.
A crimson carpet lead the way through the center of the chamber and up the stairs to the raised dais at the end of the hall.

Even I, in my finest Krespanian gown and royal apparel, felt small and inadequate in such a place.
But this was nothing compared to what I was about to face.

A lone, slender figure sat on the throne that was drawn out in an island in front of the dais and directly above the stairs that descended from it.
And somehow just seeing his rigid posture as straight as the back of his marble throne sent trembles through me.
It was all I could do to keep my walk steady and graceful, as we approached, for in that instant I knew the rumors to be true that told of him as being stern and unfriendly.

We halted some distance before the nine foot dais, and bowed in homage to the Vez-Dûn king of Isoloyia.

The light through the deep sapphire pane of the three large windows behind the throne reflected against the silver hair of King Hyndralad, and sent colorful designs playing across the floor by our feet.

I hoped my voice would not betray me.
“Greetings, I am Queen Emerald de Gavrillac of Krespania, your humble servant.”
He looked down at us without lowering his head and said, “As I, King Hyndralad de Gundalia, greet you.” with a deep and commanding voice that lingered in the wide hall.
“I presume you have come to collect your supplies from us.”
“If it pleases Your Majesty.”
The corner of his lips turned slightly in a wry smile. “And why should it please me?”

This took me aback, and I was at a loss for words. “I-I... apologize if it is an inconvenience to Your Majesty. It is only I am in desperation; my ships have been depleted of all food and ammunition. We cannot possibly assist my brother, the Emperor, against Palkaan with what we have. If there were any other way...”
Hyndralad was silent for a moment then rose slowly from his throne and circling around it, descended the stairs of the dais.

I did not realize how tall he really was until he drew near; he stood two heads taller than I, which I would calculate to be about six foot and seven inches.
He studied me with his autumn-golden eyes, as if I were transparent and he could read every detail of my life.

I had never had the trouble of feeling inferior, being in power as I am, except for this moment; I felt as if I were only a peasant under his overpowering gaze, nothing more than dirt on the floor.

He made me feel as though I did not belong there; As like a slave, I should cower before his magnificence.

I so feared those penetrating eyes that I begun to drop my own to the floor, but then halted.
Why should I cringe before him? He is no more superior, that I should lower my eyes in shame.
And what about my soldiers who are starving inside their wooden prisons?
I must be strong for their sake.
I raised my head and boldly met his gaze.
I would not be intimidated.

He drew back slightly, and lifted his chin higher.
“My countries resources will be exhausted if I supply your needs. I am sorry, but I cannot help!” He said sharply.
“If you will not help for the good of others, then do it for my ancestor Cedric's sake!” I quickly retorted.

My anger replaced the fear inside of me, and the words spilled from my lips.
“Have you so easily forgotten your friendship with him? The only human in whom you put your trust?”

“Cedric,” He said, thoughtfully. “I knew not that his descendants still remained on the throne.”

“Only my brother, Lennox, who governs Agmar, and I, over Krespania, exist at present.” I said, and continued. “There is also my uncle who-”

King Hyndralad waved his hand for silence.
"Yes... I can recognize a little of Cedric within you. Wyles."
A servant emerged from the shadows. “Supply the Krespanian armada with all that they request.”

I bowed deeply, relieved that he did not continue to resist.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. My kingdom shall endeavor to repay you for your assistance.”

“It is not necessary. If I state a need for something in the future, perhaps...but for now we shall leave it as a gift for Cedric's descendants.” He said, then withdrew the same way he came, as if a sign the conversation was over.

My party bowed our leave, and only when I was back aboard The Golden Dawn and safely within my cabin did I breath a sigh of relief.


-Emerald de Gavrillac
 Queen of Krespania

Outwitted and Undermined

We are racing on the wings of the wind, and propelled by the vigor of the sea, across the Arctos Ocean to Unoomad.

With the wind as our ally we will be at our destination within five or so weeks.

Meanwhile my brother is scouting throughout the land to ascertain how far Palkaan's forces have reached.

I have not wrote in a few weeks, and perhaps you do not know what is happening.

I will start from the beginning.

We have realized we have underestimated Palkaan.

Unbeknown to us, his troops encamped at Aldrake was only a fraction of his whole force.

And he has used that to cover up his real operation, which was a quick invasion of the western continent starting from Erelli-Lion through Cressenar, and now up into Unoomad.

But knowing Palkaan he will not be satisfied with only these; he will continue forward to Agmar and Asram, and only stop when he has the whole world in submission to his menacing control.

Lennox immediately set sail with his troops to Palkaan's next destination and there will deploy his troops to meet him head-on.

It took my armada and I a little longer to leave as we had to wait for the army of Pasarz to replace us in Aldrake.

But once they arrived we did not need any extra time to depart.

Now we are sailing; hundreds of ships dotting the aqua blue sea, their white sails enlarged in the wind and cutting a sharp path through the waves.

Though this journey is not going to be as enjoyable as the first, I can already predict.

Our supplies are being exhausted and there is not room for luxury in such a situation.

Food and water are being rationed, our gunpowder and ammunition is running thin, and if we cannot gain more we will be in a dire predicament.

I do not have to state how terrible starvation is, or an outbreak of scurvy when there is no vegetables to be had.

And we will be at the mercy of the enemy if we come upon any of Palkaan's forces in this condition.

But it is a risk we have to take before we can arrive at Isoloyia, where hopefully we will receive supplies and be ready for action again.

At least that is what Lennox says, and I earnestly hope he is correct.

Isoloyia is an island some distance from the continent Unoomad is located on, and is not known for their friendly spirit.

The inhabitants of the island, Vez-Dûnes, are a race similar to ours but with their heights averaging a foot taller than most men.

There is not many Vez-Dûn colonies, and as a result I have not been acquainted much with them, but I have heard that they prefer to live isolated lives away from others, with Isoloyia being the extreme.

Isoloyia is so withdrawn and heavily guarded that they will not allow any visitors as consequence of a previous assassination attempt upon the Isoloyian ruler.

I do not know how Lennox managed to reserve an order of supplies from them, but it matters little as long as we receive it.

Once that happens a heavy burden will be lifted from my shoulders.

Of course it will again be replaced by something else, but I will not worry until that time arrives.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

 Queen of Krespania

A Friendly Provocation

My wish is granted, and temporary headquarters have been set up in the port of Aldrake;

No longer am I restrained on board my ship, but I can wander the lengths of the damaged streets that run from the entrance of the palace to the docks at the waterfront.

It is no Krespania countryside, but it is better than remaining on The Golden Dawn, and for that I am grateful.

Nothing has changed concerning Palkaan and his army.

We are having difficulty overcoming their defenses, and despite our relentless pressure and assaults upon them, they do not appear to be growing weaker nor stronger; they continue with interminable strength.

No war is short in life, and this one is proving the point impeccably.

And by acknowledging this fact, Lennox was brought to the conclusion that we need more power, and more specifically the assistance of King Dastrias of Pasarz, our longtime friend and ally.

Pasarz is located far east of Krespania in the desert regions, and from where we are, in the southern continent, it would take my brother many weeks to arrive at his domain.

But Valory D'Alvre's power of creating portals to anywhere desired was an advantage that could not be ignored.

Therefore Emperor Lennox, along with Lady Valory and a detachment of his men, went through the portal and arrived on the outskirts of the palace of Pasarz.

My brother said that he applied to King Dastrias for his help in the southern war but was surprisingly rejected.

He told my brother that he had grown too weak and was unfit for battle, and that he could not longer fight with the sword as in times past.

Lennox could not and would not believe this was true.

As he was departing the palace, he told me that the queen of Pasarz, Taahira, stopped him and asked for a private audience.

Her radiant beauty was marred with a look of sadness.

“Am I mistaken to believe you are here to enlist my husband, the king's help?”

He answered her that she was not. “But he has refused my request.”

The pain in her eyes deepened, and Lennox knew there was more to be spoken of the subject than was being let on.

“I found his lack of interest puzzling.”

Queen Taahira shook her head. “That is what I would like to discuss with you. Dastrias has steadily become this way over the last few months, until he thinks he is utterly useless, and cannot do anything.”

“Why has he come to think this about himself?” Asked my brother.

“I have found out from my servants, who I have asked to listen around the palace, that it is Hadeeqa- One of his other wives. She is poisoning his mind.”

Lennox wondered if this was the truth or a delusional accusation out of jealousy.

Perhaps she disliked the idea of Dastrias spending time with someone other than her, and fabricated the idea in anger.

Yet she seemed sad, not angry at that moment.

“How do you know this?”

“The servants heard her. She is very discreet and makes offhand comments, where at the time sound harmless enough, but after so long of it being put into your mind you begin to believe it. For example she says he should not do so many things because of his health, and that he not getting any younger, or that he should let the servants do what he is capable of doing. Things such as that.”

Taahira closed her eyes, and bowed her head. “And I can see what it is doing to him, and I abhor it. He is no longer the carefree, lighthearted and adventurous king that I married, but more like an elderly man, worried about his health.”

Lennox was convinced that she was telling the truth, and an idea emerged in his mind.

“Excuse me, Your Highness.” He bowed. “I will do what I can.”

He found his friend's armor-bearer and requested he deliver the king's sword and shield to his master.

When this was completed he returned to the gardens where Dastrias lounged and stared at his sword and shield in his hands as if they were strange and new to him.

Lennox drew his sword.

“Let us fight! To the death!”

Dastrias looked at him with a confused expression. “I cannot; I am too weak.”

“Too weak or too afraid?” He challenged.

“You know very well I do not fear you.”

“If you will not fight, I will be forced to think that.”

Dastrias rose slowly from the ground, clutching his sword in his right hand and his shield in his left.

“Very well.”

My brother told me that the swordplay that ensued was quick and animated, and while Lennox was not giving his total strength to it for fear that he would overpower him due to his constant practice on the field, Dastrias still possessed his edge and skill to keep him on his toes.

A little more time with the sword and all expertise would be restored to him as in the past.

The king of Pasarz's surprise turned to joy at learning he had not lost his abilities, and Lennox could immediately recognize the difference in him.

His cheer returned, and afterward they talked like the good friends they were, about many things before he pledged his service in the war at Aldrake.

My brother then returned by the way he came, with news that they will reinforce us when they arrive in about four weeks; time enough for King Dastrias to gather his troops and march south to Aldrake.

Perhaps with their support the war will end quicker, and we will have victory over Palkkan.

Let us hope...let us pray.

-Emerald de Gavrillac

 Queen of Krespania