Chapter One

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The war ended far quicker than it had begun. There was no final charge to battle, no last cry for courage, not much in the way of glorious fanfare at all. It happened so quietly that many questioned if it had ended at all.

Some never believed it ended.

Had they not seen the soldiers of Thorfan waving a white flag across the body strewn battlefield, Savirnoss's army may not have stopped their endless march forward. Those that wanted to press the advantage and wipe them out were stopped in their tracks by their soon to be King, prince Aeron.

A letter had been delivered to them not long before the white flag was raised. The seal on it was plain, only a barren tree stamped onto a purple circle of wax. It wasn't a particularly long letter either, but whatever it said left Aeron speechless.

Since the death of his father king Kenwyn, Aeron had done what he could to lead their armies with the help of his fathers best generals. No one had blamed him for how much land they'd had to give up in their constant retreats, but there were whispers all the same. The whispers grew as he ordered for their army to turn back towards home.

They started slow, reluctant to believe they'd won overnight. Aeron rode at the front, his jaw clenched tight and hands on the reins in a death grip. He answered every question with a curt nod or shake of his head, refusing to give more explanation than that. The few knights that remained stayed close to him, searching for a sign of what had happened. Aeron had trained with them for years, even before the war. If anyone could glean information from his face, it was them.

Sir Siridean in particular was the most likely to get through to him. He was not only a close friend of the oldest prince, but of his younger siblings as well. The third child,princess Eliora held the most special place in his heart. He'd joined the army in hopes of rising through the ranks to knight, where he could hope to stand a chance in joining the suitors Eliora would no doubt be surrounded by one day. All he had needed was a chance.

His swordsmanship alone would have been enough for him to rise through the ranks. It wasn't uncommon to find stable boys who could smash a club down with enough strength to destroy a shield, but finding one so nimble who could all but dance about his opponents was another matter entirely. Aeron had helped him there. When they were younger, the prince had often forced the other boy to act as his target dummy. Siridean could only passively receive the blows for so long before he had launched a rake at Aeron.

The orphaned stable boy fell over himself in his rush to beg for forgiveness. Hitting a royal, even if they deserved it, was a crime punishable by a whipping at the least.

Aeron did nothing of the sort. Instead, he threw a second practice blade to his target dummy and began to teach him how to properly fight back. They'd practiced at every spare moment, right up until the Savirnoss army marched off to war, both boys dressed for battle.

The longer the war raged on, the more chance Siridean found to prove his might. Within a year, king Kenwyn had knighted him and added him to the close circle of fighters.

That circle was not even half of what it had started as. For every man Siridean had learned to call brother, their loss was another blow to his heart. The remaining knights only fought harder but there was only so much a man could do.

"My lord," Siridean called out, turning his horse to ride alongside Aeron's.

The prince gave him only a quick look to acknowledge his presence before refocusing his gaze on the path ahead.

"Have the Thorfans truly surrendered? After all this time?" A sharp nod followed Siridean's question, but still no words came from his friend.

The war between Savirnoss and Thorfan had gone on for three long years. The king had died only five months ago when an arrow found its way through a weak spot in his chest plate and stopped his heart. The kingdom's morale had taken a devastating hit that day, many had thought that would be the end of them.

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