Ancient doors to Castle Eldrion's throne room opened begrudgingly, revealing a chamber where history and opulence melded. Vast walls bore intricate mosaics of legends past, each tile a testament to Eldrion’s lineage. Dominating the room was the lavish throne, and upon it, Lazar, his emblem pulsing with the ethereal glow unique to the Chosen.

Beside the elongated crimson carpet, Tray's own emblem responded with a muted shimmer. Their world's dire law echoed in that dance of light: only one Chosen could ultimately endure. At Tray's side, Orion stood like an unyielding monolith, the embodiment of stoicism.

Lazar's voice, honeyed with mock warmth, filled the air. "Tray, did you truly believe that you, even with your... companion's assistance, could defy me in my sanctuary?”

His piercing gaze shifted to Orion. "And you, Orion, tales of your unmatched might have reached even these remote corridors. Abandon this doomed endeavor. Join me. Together, our might could be unparalleled."

Orion's eyes, as cold and hard as the mountains of the north, met Lazar's. "My path has been intertwined with Tray's since the days of our youth. This journey isn’t driven by a quest for power, but by a vow. My allegiance is to him."

Lazar tilted his head, feigning puzzlement. "Even if that fealty leads to your demise? Why squander such immense potential?"

A flash of memories crossed Tray’s eyes: shared laughter, hardships weathered together, battles fought side by side. He knew the depth of their bond, but Lazar's insinuations stoked a flicker of anxiety.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Orion’s voice, however, held no hint of hesitation. "There are treasures far more precious than dominions or titles. Loyalty to a brother-in-arms, a bond forged over lifetimes, is one such."

Lazar chuckled, the sound echoing eerily. "How poetic. But ultimately futile. Perhaps, though, there’s still hope for you to see reason."

A distant cadence of armored footsteps echoed through the corridors, growing ever more defined. Tray’s heart raced, recognizing the implications.

“You’ve called reinforcements,” Tray observed, his grip on his weapon tightening.

Lazar, ever the showman, simply spread his hands in a gesture of mock innocence. "One must always be prepared."

Orion and Tray exchanged glances, an entire conversation unfolding in mere seconds. They had faced countless adversaries together, their bond only strengthening with each challenge.

Lazar continued, attempting to sow doubt. "Think about it, Orion. Tray may be marked as Chosen, but even you must see he's outmatched. Why tie your fate to his? With your prowess and my power, we'd be invincible."

Orion responded, his tone unyielding. "Every scar, every victory, every loss, we've faced them together. I won't abandon him now, especially not for hollow promises."

Lazar sighed, feigning disappointment. "A shame, really. I had hoped to add the legendary Orion to my ranks. But if you're intent on this path, so be it."

The footsteps grew louder, the rhythmic march signaling the imminent arrival of Lazar's forces. The throne room, with its grandeur and tales of ancient valor, braced itself for another legendary confrontation.

Tray whispered, "We need a plan."

Orion nodded, his every sense heightened. "We always find a way. We will today."

Lazar watched, an amused smile playing on his lips, awaiting the grand clash that would determine the fate of the Chosen.