As the evening's merriment waned, Arlan and his confidants made their way to his private chambers for a strategic debriefing. The room, usually a place of solitude and thought, now brimmed with the weight of leadership and impending decisions. Jocko, burdened with the day's accounts and reports, was the final one to enter. He began, "Duke Arlan, may I present the latest updates from Galmora first?"

"Proceed, Jocko," Arlan encouraged, his gaze lingering outside the window, his posture a silhouette against the dimming light.

"In your absence, we've become a sanctuary for refugees from the conflict. Our numbers have swelled to ten-thousand, transforming us into a burgeoning city. Temporary shelters have been erected until we can build sufficient housing."

"And our supplies? How do they fare?" inquired Arlan without turning.

"I've redirected seventy percent of our resources to support the war effort as you commanded. Yet, we've amassed over thirteen-thousand gold in reserves."

A collective gasp filled the room at Jocko's revelation.

"This windfall stems from our initial resource management strategies and our partnership with the Eastvale Trade Company. Our exports now rival half of those from Galdo," explained Jocko with a hint of pride.

Arlan then shifted his focus to Wren, "Is everything prepared for the construction of the city walls?"

"All is in order," Wren confirmed, "Construction will commence post-winter."

Turning his inquiry towards the civic management, Arlan asked Renia, "How is our city administration holding up?"

"We've completed the educational program you envisioned. By winter's end, literacy will be widespread among our populace," Renia reported, satisfaction in her voice.

"And what news from the Eastvale Trade Company?" Arlan's inquiry moved to Jovann.

"Our services have been enlisted by various Houses across the south and north for reconstruction efforts. Additionally, we're expanding our Umbras; Nightingale will soon oversee a cadre of over a hundred and fifty. We've also begun establishing our intelligence network in adjacent nations."

"Which territories are under surveillance?" Arlan pressed.

"We're observing the Swora to the north, wary of any reprisal or incursion. To our west, the Duchy of Waldin has been amassing troops at our frontier since the conflict erupted, yet they've abstained from aggression. And to the east lies the Firane Kingdom, home to the Firane Elves, my kin and Yanie's," Jovann detailed.

"Have you uncovered anything in your investigation there?" Arlan's tone grew serious.

"Yes, your suspicions were correct. The Intaratis Cannon and the Thurian Orbs supplied to Duke Osmund originated from an elusive faction within the Firane Kingdom," Jovann confirmed.

"The Firane Kingdom's involvement is unsettling," Marie interjected, "but their motives remain shrouded."

"What could they possibly gain?" JD pondered aloud.

Yanie stepped forward, her voice carrying a mix of resolve and revelation, "I might have some insight. Only a few of you know my true past... My real name is Yanie Odian, rightful heiress to the Firane Kingdom."

The room fell into a stunned silence, save for Arlan, Marie, Chrysta, and JD, who were already privy to her secret.

Emmeline approached Yanie, her expression one of understanding. "Yanie, I've known of your presence here. My uncle, Jin, has been aware since your arrival. But why forsake your title and flee from the Firane Kingdom?"

Yanie's response was tinged with sorrow, "My mother, Queen Luell Odian, was murdered in a power struggle by my aunt, Queen Alvari, who sought to solidify her claim to the throne."

Jocko interjected with a grim addition, "Official narratives claim Queen Luell succumbed to disease, likely a façade."

Yanie continued, her voice laced with determination, "I've evaded Queen Alvari's grasp by seeking refuge here, altering my identity."

Arlan, still facing the night sky, speculated, "Either Queen Alvari is under the influence of the Malum Incarnate, or there's a deeper connection. It's perplexing why the elves haven't joined forces with the rebels to overwhelm us."

Jovann offered a course of action, "I'll dispatch Nightingale to the Firane Kingdom for reconnaissance."

"Let her rest first," Arlan interjected, "She must be in peak condition. Have the Panthers accompany her."

Emmeline voiced her concern, "Direct confrontation could escalate tensions. Our kingdom is still recuperating, and our military strength has been significantly depleted. The Midland Army totals at only a hundred-thousand, a third of what we commanded before the rebellion started."

Arlan concluded, "I suspect the Malum Incarnate aims to instigate an invasion by the Firane Kingdom. Despite our alliance, their intentions could be a facade, designed to divert our focus and weaken our defenses."

JD sought further clarification, "There must be more to this. It seems too convoluted."

"You're right, JD," Arlan concurred, his brow furrowed in concentration. "There's a perplexing puzzle here we're not seeing."

The room fell silent, all eyes riveted on Arlan as he stood before the grand map of Althea unfurled across his desk. His gaze darted across the terrain, tracing invisible lines of strategy and deceit. Suddenly, clarity dawned upon him, "The true intention of the Firane Kingdom reveals itself—not an invasion of our lands, but a grander scheme to seize the wealth of the Free Cities of Yura and the sovereign Musan. Their strategy was never to confront us directly but to divert our focus, leaving them free to consolidate power elsewhere."

The room was steeped in astonishment, Arlan's insight slicing through the previously opaque intentions of the Firane Kingdom. Emmeline, spurred by urgency, declared, "This demands immediate counsel with my mother. Arlan, are we certain of their motives?"

"Undoubtedly," Arlan affirmed, "Their gaze has always been fixed on the true prize—the Free Cities, Althea's richest city state."

Jovann chimed in, “The dwarven merchant houses who rule the Free Cities are currently feuding, they will likely be blindsided by the invasion of the Firane Elves.”

JD, seeking direction, inquired, "What's our move?"

Arlan laid out the plan, "We pivot our focus towards the Firane Kingdom, not as adversaries but under the guise of seeking assistance in Midland’s post-war recovery. We will escort Emmeline to do this."

Emmeline requested, “I’d like Jin to join us as well, if that’s possible.”

“Acknowledged, Princess,” Arlan consented, as Emmeline excused herself to dispatch a message to her mother, Queen Margaret, via messenger pigeon.

Erin, curiosity piqued, inquired, “And what will our roles be in this undertaking?”

“A crucial task lies ahead for you, Erin,” answered Arlan, “I’m entrusting you with the leadership of the Banner of the Claw. Integrate the remnants of Count Emile’s soldiers and train them as I’ve trained you. Once I set off for the Firane Kingdom, lead the Banner of the Claw towards the ruins of Eisanyr and await my signal for further instructions.”

Erin, taken aback, questioned, “Lead them, in your absence? Can I shoulder such responsibility?”

“Absolutely,” Arlan reassured him, affirming his confidence with a supportive hand on Erin’s shoulder. “Your reliability and skill have never been in doubt. You have my complete trust,”

Edgar stood, offering his support, “And he won't be standing alone.”'

Lem chimed in with a grin, “Edgar is right, you’ll have us with you!”

Marie, seeking clarity, asked, “What exactly do you envision for us in the Firane Kingdom?”

Arlan shared his bold strategy, “Our mission is to see Yanie rightfully crowned as Queen of the Firane Kingdom.”

Marie facepalmed and muttered in disbelief, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…”

Yanie, equally shocked, protested, “Hold on… Don’t I get a say in this?”

“It’s a path I believe you're meant to take, Yanie. It’s a chance to make a significant difference and we’ll be with you at every step,” Arlan encouraged with guidance.

Yanie then suggested, “What about Jin Albera? He’s of Odian lineage too.”

Chrysta clarified, “Firane’s customs are clear—a matriarch reigns supreme. Jin wouldn’t be accepted as ruler by the people.”

Arlan added, “Jin will undoubtedly support you however he can as well.”

“I... I'll need some time to consider,” replied Yanie with hesitation as if doubting herself.

“You have four months to ponder this decision,” Marie noted with folded arms and a judgemental gaze on Yanie.

“If reinstating Yanie proves unfeasible, we may need to completely destroy this new enemy that operates secretly in the Firane Kingdom,” Arlan outlined a contingency plan, “Erin, have the Banner of the Claw cross into Firane at my behest. Whether we wrestle for control over the crown or we fight openly against this new threat, we will need the Banner of the Claw.”

Erin was now buoyed by confidence and affirmed, “Understood. We’ll be poised for your command.”

Arlan then concluded, “Let’s focus on the preparations for this endeavor starting tomorrow. That concludes our agenda for today.”

As the room emptied, Wren lingered, his voice steady. "Arlan, there's something I want to address."

Arlan looked up from his desk and asked. "What is it?"

Without a word, Wren hoisted the remains of Arlan's blacksteel claymore with considerable effort and let it clang onto the desk, leaving a noticeable dent. The broken blade was a mere fragment but was still daunting in its weight.

Confused, Arlan asked, "Wren, what's this about?"

"That broken sword," Wren panted while wiping sweat from his brow, "Is still absurdly heavy. But it's time for a new one, don't you think?"

A memory flashed through Arlan's mind — his final showdown with Luther had cost him his weapon. "You're not wrong," he conceded. "But crafting a new one to match my needs in four months is a tall order. And finding the right swordsmith..."

Wren's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Your old sword was from a master swordsmith in Auron, correct?"

"Yes, a gift from Duke Lansley."

Wren's chest swelled with pride. "That master was my mentor. He crafted your blacksteel armor before you switched to mithril. I've learned everything that he knew. Remember, you asked me to be your blacksmith. So before we left for Galmora, my mentor gave me a manual of ancient dwarven techniques… And I've mastered them."

Arlan's interest peaked. "So, you think you can replicate my blacksteel claymore?"

"No, Arlan, I won’t replicate it…” Wren's pride took a hit. “Instead, I can make you a blade that’s even better."

Arlan was now intrigued by the idea, so he pressed on. "How much better?"

"I can forge you a greatsword thrice as powerful as your old one."

The prospect excited Arlan. His blacksteel claymore had been strong enough to break even an artifact weapon, but Wren's confidence suggested something beyond that.

"This sounds way too good to be true,” stated Arlan with doubt, “What's the catch?"

Wren laid it out plainly. "I'll need Adamantite and the aid of Marie and Chrysta's Regalias."

"Marie and Chrysta will help without a doubt, but Adamantite is nearly impossible to find. Where would we even begin?"

"I have a lead," Wren said, sliding a scroll across the table.

Breaking the seal, Arlan unfurled the document — an S-Rank bounty from the Adventurer's Guild, the first in fifty years.

"The Iron Grotto," Arlan muttered as he recalled entering the rift dungeon with the Moon Striders.

"Exactly," Wren beamed. "Look at the rewards."

Following Wren’s instructions, Arlan scanned the bounty's rewards outloud, “House Lansley will reward the party or individual who completes this bounty with three-thousand gold, any item from House Lansley’s artifact vault, and-”

“-A cache of Adamantite Ore,” Wren finished the sentence for Arlan.

“I’ll head to Auron in two days,” replied Arlan immediately.

"Wait but before you head off, there's something you'll need," Wren announced, beckoning with a whistle. Jeanette appeared at the doorway, her arms cradling a sheathed greatsword, its hilt and guard adorned with the meticulous artistry of dwarven runes.

A gleam of anticipation sparked in Arlan's eyes as he rose to meet her. "For me, I presume?"

Wren nodded, his pride barely contained. "I managed to convince Jovann to procure the last of the mithril ingots in the north. And during your absence, I've been busy crafting numerous greatswords until this prototype was made without flaw. It’ll be about fifty percent stronger than your previous blacksteel weapon."

Jeanette then handed the greatsword to Arlan with ease and departed. He unsheathed the weapon, revealing its craftsmanship: the edges shimmered with the hue of mithril, while the core was forged from the hefty blacksteel.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

"Do you approve?" Wren inquired, watching Arlan's reaction closely.

Arlan was momentarily puzzled. "It's a curious blend—edged with mithril and blacksteel makes up the majority of the inside. Yet it weighs like nothing… That explains how Jeanette was able to carry it with such ease."

Wren's smile turned sly. "A dwarven rune I etched into the blade makes it weightless."

Arlan furrowed his brows. "But my regalia’s passive multiplies the force of my swings by the weapon's weight. This wouldn’t even deal half the damage my blacksteel claymore would’ve."

"I knew you’d say that," Wren countered, his excitement barely contained. "A second rune I've etched allows the wielder to channel essence and mana into the blade, increasing its damage while also increasing its weight as a negative effect… But for you that isn’t a downside."

Intrigued, Arlan questioned, "I can control its weight?"

"Exactly," Wren encouraged. "Try channeling your essence and mana into it."

Following Wren's guidance, Arlan infused the sword with his essence. Instantly, the blade hummed with a thirst for battle, its weight increasing significantly.

"This is fucking awesome," Arlan admitted, his voice a mix of surprise and admiration. "It's now heavier than the blacksteel claymore!"

"And there's more," Wren boasted, eager to share. "Three additional runes enhance its abilities further—one for retrieval like your old weapon, another to siphon a fraction of essence and mana from foes, and-"

Arlan's interest peaked as he interrupted Wren, "This greatsword is nearly on par with the artifact weapon, Godsbane!"

Wren's grin widened. "And I've yet to reveal the capabilities of the fifth rune—it absorbs offensive mana based spells, which directly feeds into the second rune."

The revelation left Arlan nearly speechless, the potential of such a weapon dawning on him. "How do I activate the fifth rune?"

"Block the spell with the flat side of the greatsword and it will do the rest," Wren explained.

Arlan's admiration for Wren grew, a mix of awe and gratitude evident in his stance. "Wren, your craftsmanship is unparalleled. And this sword... Have you named it?"

Wren shook his head no, allowing Arlan the honor. After a moment's thought, Arlan declared, "I’m going to name it, Starshadow, for its unique blend of mithril and blacksteel."

"Starshadow," Wren repeated, nodding in approval. "A fitting name for a blade unlike any other."

The next day, the afternoon sun draped Galmora in a warm, golden light. Arlan and Emmeline embarked on their leisurely walk, the city bustling around them with the vibrant life it was known for. They simply enjoyed each other’s company as Arlan made his rounds to inspect his city for the first time in a while.

Arlan and Emmeline spotted Chrysta and JD ahead, arms linked and in their own little world, Arlan couldn't help but express his admiration. "I was so glad when they finally confessed to each other," he admitted.

Emmeline agreed while watching the couple with a tender smile, "Absolutely, it's quite endearing. Chrysta and JD are so cute together."

Arlan sighed, his thoughts drifting. "I remember when I first met them. JD was always steadfast and looking out for Noah. Chrysta was so shy at first until she finally opened up a little more. I swear it was only yesterday that we were playing snag-a-scarf in front of the orphanage."

Emmeline chuckled as she imagined her friends much younger, "Ar… those must be some golden memories you have. I’m glad they help you cherish your friends."

"They are golden," Arlan continued, his tone reflective. "Then they grew into strong individuals who I respect and admire."

"Their story is inspiring, really,” added Emmeline with a modicum of respect, “They rose from orphans of war into a Lord and Lady of the realm. They’ve also accomplished far more than most would in their lifetime."

Arlan nodded, his eyes returning to the present, watching as Chrysta laughed at something JD had said. "They remind me of what I fight to protect. A reminder to carry on my duties."

The future Queen of Midland leaned onto her betrothed’s shoulder while they continued their walk, "A reminder I am also familiar with… I just want all of Midland’s people to enjoy peaceful lives."

Their stroll took them to the military quarter, where the Banner of the Claw's presence was notably lighter. Arlan gave the soldiers time with their families which transformed the military quarter into a scene of partial tranquility, a testament to Arlan’s care for his men.

"It's good to see them getting some well-deserved rest," Emmeline commented, observing the few Banner of the Claw soldiers hanging out in front of the barracks.

As Arlan and Emmeline walked by, the trio of soldiers saluted and acknowledged the future King and Queen of Midland. Arlan gave them a nod to continue as they returned to their relaxed day off.

Arlan thought of the men and women who had stood by him through thick and thin. "They deserve every moment of peace we can afford them," he replied, pride and gratitude evident in his voice.

"It's more than just rest; it’s about giving them a moment to remember why we fight so hard," Arlan continued, his gaze lingering on the soldiers. "A reminder of the peace we strive to secure for everyone in Midland."

Emmeline nodded thoughtfully, "You've always seen the bigger picture, Arlan. Not just battles to be won, but lives to be lived fully. It's one of the reasons you will make such a wise king."

Arlan chuckled softly, "And you, a queen who sees the heart of her people. Together, we'll build a kingdom where such moments of tranquility aren't a rare luxury but a common peace."

As they ventured deeper into the city, they noticed Erin, Lem, and Trent’s little sister, Lanie, engaged in the mundane yet intimate act of grocery shopping. Their laughter and easy chatter floated over to Arlan and Emmeline, who watched from a distance with fond amusement.

But Erin caught sight of the two, his face lighting up with a bright smile. Then he waved as he called out. "Look who we have here! Fancy seeing you two," he called out across the distance.

"Wandering the streets like common folk, are we?" Lem added with a grin, his tone playful.

Arlan raised his hand in response, a broad smile on his face. "It's my first time in awhile walking around Galmora so I’m merely taking in its charms! Please, carry on."

Erin, Lem and Lanie smiled and did as instructed, they happily disappeared into the crowd together, continuing their errand.

Arlan and Emmeline continue but they soon find themselves amidst the hustle and bustle of the market district. Here, the city's heart beat strongest, with merchants calling out their wares and the streets alive with citizens who used to dread under their former lord until Arlan took over.

It wasn't long before they stumbled upon a delightful sight: Alya and Onas, completely engrossed in their game of tag, their laughter a beacon of joy. Emmeline couldn't help but laugh when Alya chased Onas around Emmeline in a circle.

Arlan smiled as he was watching the scene unfold. "Look at you two! Both of you seemed to have gotten along real well!"

Jovann, overseeing the unloading of goods nearby, caught the moment and couldn't resist a chuckle. "Ah! Arlan, you mind taking those two off my hands? Or maybe Emmeline can take them in as some willing recruits!"

"They would make a fine addition to the royal guard," Emmeline joked back, her eyes sparkling with mirth as she continued to entertain the children.

“Hey you two!” yelled Jovann, “Let them be. I think they want some alone time.”

As they parted ways with Jovann and the children, Arlan and Emmeline continued their exploration, each step further entwining their lives with the city and its inhabitants. Galmora, with all its complexity and charm, was more than a backdrop to their adventures; it was a character in its own right, shaping them as much as they influenced its course.

As Arlan and Emmeline wandered through the bustling streets of the craftsmen quarter, the sound of hammers and the warmth of forges filled the air. Turning a corner, they spotted Renia, her arms cradling a basket covered with a cloth.

"Ah, fancy seeing you two here!" Renia exclaimed, her eyes lighting up at the sight of them. "I was just about to deliver Wren's lunch. Care to join me?"

Emmeline smiled, intrigued by the offer. "We'd love to. It’s been a while since we visited the craftsmen's headquarters."

Arlan nodded in agreement, his curiosity piqued about the day's unfolding events.

The craftsmen headquarters of Galmora was a hive of activity, with artisans of all trades busily engaging in their work. As they approached the entrance, they noticed Wren, his gaze fixed on the path, obviously awaiting Renia's arrival.

Wren's eyes widened in surprise upon seeing the trio. "Renia, I wasn’t expecting Emmeline and Arlan to join you," he said, before his gaze shifted to Arlan and Emmeline. "And to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Making my rounds to inspect the city, figured we’d accompany Renia here," Arlan replied, clasping Wren's shoulder in a friendly gesture. "Thanks again for crafting me, Starshadow."

“Thanks again for bringing me to Galmora,” replied Wren as he accepted his lunch from Renia, “And if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have met the love of my life here.”

“Couples everywhere today, Arlan!” commented Emmeline.

With a broad smile, Wren took Renia's hand, an unmistakable gleam of happiness in his eyes. "Well, since you're both here, we might as well share our news. Renia and I have decided to get married. We're planning the ceremony before all of you depart for the Firane Kingdom."

Arlan's expression softened into a wide smile. "It's about time," he exclaimed, embracing them in turn. “It's the perfect time since we’re all back in Galmora before we have to depart once more. Congratulations to you two!”

Emmeline clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, how splendid! Love is in the air! I’m invited, right?"

Renia's cheeks flushed with joy. "Of course you are, milady! We're very excited to have everyone be there. Alya couldn’t help but attack Wren with hugs and tears that he’ll be her brother-in-law officially."

“Speaking of whom,” replied Emmeline “We just bumped into her in the market district playing with Onas.”

“Those two have gotten close,” said Wren as he started to eat his lunch, “I’m surprised how much more both of them are talking and opening up to everyone.”

As Arlan and Emmeline left Renia and Wren behind, they ventured towards the farm fields, their steps slowing as they noticed Marie sitting silently on a barrel, observing the farmers with a distant gaze.

Arlan paused, his expression turning solemn as he recognized the signs of introspection—or perhaps, isolation—in Marie's posture. Emmeline followed his gaze, her own face mirroring his concern.

"Isn't that Marie?" Emmeline whispered, her voice laced with worry.

Without breaking his gaze from the Embercaller, Arlan spoke softly to Emmeline, "Ever since Marie had started to fight with us and when she had absorbed that demon core, there's been a constant change inside her. She’s… So different now. Even Katalina told me she felt it when they last reunited."

Emmeline, following Arlan's gaze, felt a pang of empathy for Marie. "While I don’t want to assume, I do know what it's like to be lonely with your own responsibilities burdening your shoulders," she murmured, her heart heavy with unspoken understanding.

Arlan replied, his tone heavy. "There's a depth to her silence now that wasn't there before. But I recognize what this is… I’ve experienced it before."

After turning to Emmeline, Arlan asked, "Would you mind heading to the manor without me? I feel Marie might need someone to talk to, someone who understands a part of what she's going through."

Emmeline nodded, squeezing Arlan's hand in silent support before making her way alone, leaving Arlan to approach Marie with a mix of determination and concern.

Arlan approached Marie, his steps measured. "Hey Marie, what’re you doing out here?" he asked, trying to pierce the veil of isolation she had wrapped herself in.

"Just observing the endless field of lavender flowers," Marie replied, her voice laced with a forced cheerfulness that didn't reach her eyes. However, Arlan saw through it with his [Heraldic Vision] and he made note of the turmoil within her.

"I know there's more beneath the surface, Marie. Hiding it will only cause you more pain," Arlan pressed gently, his concern evident.

A long silence followed before Marie spoke again, her voice barely a whisper. "I feel like a monster, Arlan. And the worst part? I'm not even sad about it. I wonder... Why do I enjoy this monstrous strength?"

As tears welled up unexpectedly, Marie looked at Arlan, confusion written all over her face. "Why am I crying? I don't understand… Nothing makes me feel anymore."

Marie continued, her voice breaking, "I feel so alone, Arlan. Everyone else seems so distant, but with you... It's different. When I’m with you… I can make sense of my emotions."

Arlan nodded, his own voice softening. "I've been there, Marie. In my past life as Rove, I felt like a monster too. And I enjoyed it. I still enjoy it…”

“You enjoy it also?” asked Marie as tears continued to stream down.

After a short pause, Arlan answered back, “Yes… But I don’t let it kill my humanity. As Rove, I held onto my bond with my soldiers. My care for them reminded me of my late family and their sacrifice for me. It's what allows me to remain myself."

“I admire you Arlan,” replied Marie as she soaked in Arlan’s words, “You’ve always been able to stand strong despite what we go through. You somehow retain your humanity through it all.”

“Marie… You’re strong enough to do it too. I know you are.”

"Arlan," Marie began, her voice a mixture of resolve and vulnerability, "There's something I need to tell you..."

Arlan's gaze softened, receiving her words with a grace that belied the storm of emotions they stirred within him. "I'm listening, Marie. You can tell me anything," he assured her, his voice a steady anchor in the swirling sea of uncertainty.

Taking a deep breath as if to gather the shards of her courage, Marie confessed, "I’m in love with you, Arlan. I know you might not feel the same way and you’re going to be the future King of Midland alongside Emmeline, but I had to let you know…"

The confession hung between them like a delicate thread, shimmering with the fragility of Marie's heart laid bare. Arlan, for a moment, seemed to search for the right words, his heart heavy with the weight of her affection and his own tangled feelings.

"Marie," he finally spoke, his voice a balm to the tension in the air, "I'm honored by your feelings. Truly. But I can't reciprocate them in the way you want me to."

Marie's smile took a hopeful and desperate form, a brave mask over her bruised heart. "I understand. But, you know, if you ever wanted, I could be your mistress. If that's something you desire."

Arlan's response was immediate, a gentle rebuke wrapped in the warmth of his care for her. "That just wouldn’t be fair to you and Emmeline. I just can’t do that to either of you… It's just… I know it’s normal here on Althea but where I’m from, I just can’t love two people at once like that."

Yet, Marie's resilience shone through her next words, her smile genuine, albeit tinged with sadness. "Oh well… I tried… But just being by your side, in any capacity, is enough for me. No one else could ever capture my heart the way you have, Arlan."

Arlan's emotions swelled with a mix of admiration and affection, his own smile a mirror to Marie's resilience. "And I’m so fortunate to have you by my side. I wouldn’t know if I could’ve done it without you, Marie."

In that moment, Marie's tears broke free, a river of relief and acceptance as she stepped into Arlan's open arms. Her voice, muffled against his chest, carried the weight of her emotions. "I’ll always stand by your side no matter what… Thank you, Arlan. And if the world were to ever take you away from me, I’m going to burn everything to ashes."

“There’s no need for that,” joked Arlan, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Under the pallid morning sky, the newly erected memorial stood solemnly outside the city gates, surrounded by the citizens of the town. Wren and his craftsmen had outdone themselves, creating a poignant tribute to the fallen. Arlan and JD, shoulder to shoulder, faced the stone structure, behind them a silent congregation of townsfolk paying their respects.

Arlan cleared his throat, stepping forward slightly, his voice steady yet imbued with a deep melancholy. "Today, we stand to honor the valor and sacrifice of the Banner of the Claw’s fallen. Each name engraved here," he gestured towards the monument, "Represents a life dedicated to ending the War of the Great Houses, a gentle reminder to never forget those who’ve granted us this moment of respite."

As the last words of his monologue faded into the crisp morning air, the crowd began to disperse, leaving Arlan and JD in a cocoon of solitude amidst the echoes of the departed.

D, his gaze fixed on the monument, finally broke the silence. "Arlan, I saw Noah’s image in the final battle against Luther… Was that real?"

“It was JD… The Avens Power bridges the different planes and I’m not sure how to explain it.”

JD’s voice cracked, a single tear escaping the confines of his stoic exterior. "He was more than just a comrade to me. Noah was my brother in all but blood. I... I had hoped to see him marry Sayla, to see them happy."

Arlan, with a sympathetic nod, placed a hand on JD's shoulder. "Their sacrifices, though heartrending, were not in vain. This peace we now cherish is dyed with their valor. In my world too, sacrifices were the cornerstone of every quest for peace."

The air between them tensed as JD's sorrow morphed into anger, his voice rising. "But you! You let Iris take him from us. Why didn’t you do something to kill her sooner? Maybe if you had, Noah would still be here!"

Arlan's eyes, shadowed by grief, met JD's. "Believe me, JD, there was nothing more I could have done. Every day, I'm haunted by my inability to save him... and not just him. Roderic, Dimitri, Trent... and even those from my previous world—Terry, Rob, Fin, Bo. Their memories are a constant reminder of my failures."

Silence reigned as JD processed Arlan's tormented confession, his anger dissipating as quickly as it had flared. "I... I'm sorry, Arlan. It's just the pain... it's overwhelming."

Arlan, with a forgiving smile, squeezed JD's shoulder reassuringly. "No apologies needed. Anger can make us say things we don't mean. Remember, we carry their legacy forward—not through our anger, but by living the lives they fought for us to have."

In the shadow of the memorial, with the townsfolk now a distant memory, Arlan's gaze lingered on the horizon, where the first light of dawn met the remnants of night. The air around them grew thick with the weight of unspoken words, until Arlan broke the silence, his voice carrying a blend of wisdom and sorrow.

"JD," he began, his eyes not leaving the horizon, "War... always spreads far and wide, consuming everything in its path. No matter how fiercely I fought, how many lives I’ve taken, or how much of my own humanity I sacrificed, war doesn’t end so easily."

He paused, the weight of his past evident in his somber expression. "Back on Terra, the devastation was unimaginable. A world war between my country and another claimed half of the world population. Everywhere anyone went, there was no escaping it. And if I learned anything from that…."

Arlan turned to JD, his gaze now filled with a haunting clarity. "It's only the beginning, JD. The War of the Great Houses was the tinder needed to light the blaze. And soon, the world will be engulfed in flames like my homeworld, Terra."

JD listened, a solemn silence between them. Arlan's words painted a vivid picture of the relentless nature of conflict, a cycle of destruction and rebirth that spanned worlds and generations.

"I won’t sugar coat it JD… More people are going to die as everything gets worse. And we need to do everything we can to save our loved ones… Even if that means we have to fight long wars and kill constantly. But with your help, we’ll end this fucking cycle… We’ll usher in a new age of peace. You’re with me, right?”

"Absolutely... I stand with you through everything, Arlan."

"Good, because the rebellion was just the beginning, the spark that will ignite the world aflame... It was nothing but the Embers of War."