Dyso's head spun as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

He looked around, taking in the familiar dirt road and the procession of refugees. Most were fellow young villagers from his hometown, fleeing the invading army that had razed their village to the ground. Men, women, children - their faces etched with sorrow and loss.

Dyso spotted his younger self amongst them, bedraggled and forlorn. How strange to see his past this way, from the outside looking in.

"Rukai, what day is it, today?!" he asked impatiently.

His friend gave him an odd look. "It's the fourth day since we fled the village. Did you hit your head or something?"

His infectious humor and familiar jabs at Dyso's impulsiveness grounded him, preventing him from spiraling into despair. Their reunion, though marked by a bittersweet tinge of past memories, was heartwarming.

Dyso shook his head, mind racing. The fourth day. That meant Greybourne's forces weren't far behind. His hand went instinctively to his hip, but of course there was no sword there. He was just a raw recruit, not yet the hardened knight he would one day become.

But perhaps that didn't matter. He had knowledge his younger self did not. If he could warn the caravan's leader, and urge them to take a less traveled road, they might avoid the ambush awaiting them. Changing that one small thing could spare lives.

He would seize this opportunity and guide them toward safety. When this task was complete, the way forward would become clear. Walking quickly in front of their caravan, he caught up to Hallend, the leader. The older man's beard turned alongside him as Dyso called out to him.

"A word, sir?", Dyso asked with a soft voice.

Hallend nodded with his brow furrowed already carrying the day's strains.

Dyso gulped and chose his next words carefully. "I was observing the map Rukai, our scout had brought with him. The road we're on goes through narrow valleys for the next two days."

"The travel would be treacherous!" he continues " Uneven terrain, wolves, we shall even be ambushed by god knows what!"

Hallend turned his head to the road grunting with annoyance while the sound of the mumbling and whispers of the caravan in a choir filled up the tense air.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"This...route that you're speaking of, do you have a single clue about it, kid?" Hallend scolded him with a condescending voice

"Greybourne knows villagers would take that route, so he has a camp set up at that point."

Dyso's eyebrow twitched as he quickly enquired,

"Does that mean-"

"Yes." Hallend shot back at him.

"One of our garrisons. Completely extinguished. We thought we had a number advantage over them but to no avail." Hallend sighed as he snapped a whip at his horse.

"You better get some rest, brat. Aethelgard is coming soon enough. I don't want you dying on me or anything, understand?" Hallend said with a soothing deep voice. It almost seemed as if he cared for Dyso like he was his very own son.

With purpose renewed, Dyso headed toward walking with his friend, Rukai, to the front of the caravan. The road ahead remained long, but he now walked it with hope rather than despair.

-

The haunting memory replayed countless times in his slumber, with the memory of Elena dying right before his eyes. Elena's agonized face, blood trickling down her chin. The blood escaping from his from her elegant mouth jolted Dyso wide awake, scrambling as he shook his body upwards. He touched his eyebrows, before inspecting his fingers, swearing he could still feel the liquid. Alas, it was just a dream. Caressing his face right where the sword had pierced through, he almost felt a tinge of phantom pain remembering that moment. The cold stone floor only being covered by thin hay provided him little comfort as Dyso sat with his back against the rough wall. A shiver ran through his spine as he recalled Elena's words.

'Seven Moons?'

What in heavens did this even mean? Earth had only 3 moons, that were visible at all times with each of them cycling from morning to daytime, and then night. Each of them had a separate engraved mark caused by small-scale meteor showers on their surface that was quite visible from the ground up which made it clear about each one's identity. Was this some sort of riddle by Elena? Dyso turned and tumbled over in his sleep thinking as hard as he could, surrounded by other sweaty potential soldiers cooped up in a dimly lit small room, while occasionally feeling a kick in his back, or his stomach by his eepy fellow comrades.

-

Dawn stretched its golden fingers across the rugged plains of Aethelgard. Dew-kissed blades of grass crunched under Dyso's bare feet as he jogged, his flail thin frame struggling against the uneven grassy terrain. Every push-up was a step closer to reclaiming his lost strength.

Panting and looking down at the earth while resting his arms on his thighs, Dyso's head spun as he tried to make sense of what had happened. Had Elena somehow sent him back in time? He looked up into the clouds in the sky, while disgruntled noises filled the atmosphere with his comrades training.

'Timeline Manipulation?'

Nay. Her Majesty was goodness incarnate and her soul was as pure as mountain spring water. Dyso shook his head, trying to clear the nagging doubts that crept into his mind. That vial Elena passed onto him...it reeked of old, forbidden magic that had a faint sense of ancestral mana imbibed into it. Dyso brought his hands to his chin before a peculiar memory struck his mind.