The battlefield reeked of iron and ash.
Damian stood at the forefront, his armor stained with blood not entirely his own. The banners of Veritida rose behind him, unyielding against the smoky skies, while the broken forces of Auentia struggled to hold their ground.
What had begun as a confident invasion had turned into a slow, humiliating defeat.
"Push forward!" Damian's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. "Leave no opening!"
His soldiers obeyed with renewed vigor. Ever since the First Prince stepped onto the battlefield, the tide of war had shifted violently. What Auentia once thought would be an easy conquest had become their greatest mistake.
A sudden horn echoed across the field.
White flags.
Damian's eyes narrowed as a group of riders approached cautiously, unarmed.
"A special envoy," one of his generals muttered.
Damian said nothing as the envoy dismounted, bowing slightly.
"Your Highness," the envoy began, voice steady but strained, "Auentia seeks to intercede. This war… was a grave miscalculation. We request a ceasefire."
A faint, cold smile appeared on Damian's lips.
"Miscalculation?" he repeated. "You call greed a miscalculation?"
The envoy swallowed.
"We acknowledge our faults. We only ask for mercy… and peace."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
"I do not grant peace," Damian finally said. "I win wars."
The envoy's face paled.
"But…" Damian continued, turning his gaze toward the horizon, "I will retreat for now, You will return with me to Veritida. My father, the king, will decide your fate."
Hope flickered weakly in the envoy's eyes.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
Damian mounted his horse.
"Do not thank me yet," he said coldly. "Peace is not guaranteed."
Days later, the gates of Veritida opened.
The envoy entered alongside Damian, eyes scanning the kingdom that had nearly crushed theirs. The war was on hold ,but only for a moment.
Auentia held its breath.
Inside the palace of Auentia, tension burned just as fiercely.
The Fourth Queen knelt before the king, her head bowed low.
"Your Highness," she began carefully, "information has reached me… that there is a miracle doctor currently in Veritida. It is said she can heal even a tumor. Perhaps… she could help the prince."
The room fell silent.
The king's expression darkened instantly.
"Are you out of your senses?" he roared.
The queen flinched.
"We are at war with Veritida, and you suggest we seek help from their people?" His voice rose with each word. "Did you leave your brain at the palace doors?"
"My lord, I only..."
"Enough!" he barked. "Guards!"
Two guards rushed forward.
"Get her out of my sight."
The Fourth Queen was dragged away, her dignity shattered, her hope crushed.
On her way back to her chambers, she crossed paths with the Third Queen.
They paused briefly.
The Third Queen's gaze lingered, unreadable, before she continued walking.
She had somewhere far more important to be.
By dusk, she arrived at the sacred territory of the House of Verelle the ancient clan of seers and astrologers.
The air there felt different… heavier, as though it carried whispers of the past and echoes of the future.
A servant led her through winding corridors until they reached a dimly lit chamber.
At the center sat the clan leader, legs crossed, eyes closed, his presence commanding yet eerily calm.
"My lord," the Third Queen saraphina said softly, bowing. "You requested my presence."
His eyes opened slowly.
Sharp. Knowing.
"What happened eighteen years ago," he said, "is chasing you."
Her breath hitched.
"My lord… what do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean."
The weight of his words crushed her defenses instantly.
She fell to her knees, tears spilling freely.
"I did it out of loyalty!" she cried. "Loyalty to the crown.."
"Silence!"
His voice thundered through the chamber.
"Your stupidity knows no bounds."
She froze.
"Among all the eligible women in this clan," he continued coldly, "you were chosen to be queen. A rare honor. A path to greatness."
Her tears fell harder.
"But you," he said, disappointment laced in every word, "threw it all away."
"I had no choice..."
"You had every choice!" he snapped. "You abandoned your child!"
The words struck like a blade.
"A child of destiny was born from your womb… and you cast her aside for a king's fleeting favor."
The Third Queen sobbed uncontrollably.
"I thought… I thought she was gone…"
For a moment, silence.
Then
"She lives."
Her head shot up.
"What…?"
"She lives," he repeated.
Hope exploded in her chest, fragile but radiant.
"My child… she's alive?" Her voice trembled. "Then I...I can still..."
"There is no thread of fate between you."
The words shattered her completely.
She stared at him, disbelief and despair colliding within her.
"But… she is my daughter…"
"Blood does not define destiny," he said calmly. "You severed that bond the moment you abandoned her."
Her hands trembled violently.
"Then… what can I do?" she whispered, broken.
The clan leader closed his eyes again.
"The future," he said slowly, "will reveal itself."
A pause.
"Destiny is unfolding."
Far away, in Veritida…
A young woman stood beneath the night sky, unaware of the storm gathering around her existence.
Unaware that kings were making decisions that would shake kingdoms.
Unaware that a past long buried was beginning to rise again.
Divura lifted her eyes to the stars.
And for the first time in a long while...
They seemed to be watching her back.