Prince Enoc PoV

Frowning, I tried not to feel too worried over the reports that I had just finished reading from the frontlines. None of it was good news. The elves across the Eastern Sea still hadn’t responded to any requests for aid; like they had done so the last few invasions. It didn’t bode well for the allied kingdoms. In the two previous wars, the dragons had only been pushed back due to the elves' intervention. Pushing the paperwork that held the bleak intelligence aside, I picked up the final few reports from my garrison and rifled through them.

I sighed as I finished signing the last report. Rubbing my sore wrist, there came a knock on my office door just as I stood up.

“Enter!” I called out.

The door opened promptly, letting in a young soldier from my Wing, who immediately stood at attention, fist over his heart. “Sir!”

I looked him over for a moment, noting his red, sweaty face and rapid breathing, as well as his wind swept blond hair. “At ease, Private Jonc. What’s got you in a rush?”

The private took a moment to get his breath back after relaxing his stiff pose. “Sir! Someone named Beaxtric has sent a report about a sighted undead horde that’s been reportedly making its way south.” Jonc held up several missives. Taking them out of his hands, I nodded for him to continue. “I’m sure it’s all in the report, sir. They did, however, stress its urgency.”

“Which is why Francisco sent you.” It wasn’t a question, merely a statement of fact, but the private nodded anyway. “Very well. Thank you, you’re dismissed, Private!”

Private Jonc stiffened his posture, slammed his breast with a closed fist, smoothly turned around, and strode out of my office. That’s a man to watch for a future promotion, I idly thought. Frowning at the missives in my hand, I hesitated to open them. If Tyral was reaching out now, after all this time, it couldn’t be anything good. Especially not if the size of that horde was even half as much as had been reported.

Letting out a groan that ended in a sigh, I sat back down to read. Pulling out my letter opener, I sliced the first one open, watching it flash as the magic contained within verified my identity. I shook my head at my old friend’s paranoia, wishing that it wasn’t necessary, nor using code names to disguise who it was from.

Looking out the window for a moment, I found my thoughts drifting to my old friend as I watched snowflakes slowly drift past the window.

“Roc… you did this, but why? I don’t understand,” I sighed in frustration and confusion.

My oldest friend let out a sigh of frustration. “It’s Tyral now, the System even recognises that.”

I saw the hurt flash in Tyroc… no, Tyral’s eyes as I couldn’t help the flash of disgust show on my face.

Stiffening and standing straight, Ty’s expression went cold. “I know you, Enoc. I know that you’re a good man. Don’t let your father’s petty bigotry drive your actions. You’ve known me for all of my life, do you think that I’m anything like what your father claims people like me are like?”

“No, but…”

“There is no but, you know me, have known me for all of my life,” Tyral interrupted.

I sighed as I ran my hands over my face and through my hair. “Just… give me some time to process this, alright? One minute you’re a man, my best friend and now…” I gestured at my friend's new, feminine form. “This…” I finished, somewhat feebly.

I winced as I remembered her expression, the pain and the anger in her eyes. I was a jackass at the time, I fully admitted that. Thankfully, a week later, she finally relented and let me see her, let me make it up to her. I smiled as I remembered the three months of happy bliss we shared once our friendship blossomed into something new, something magical. My smile turned bitter, though as I recalled how weak and how cowardly I ended up being, the snow was falling heavily now as the last moments I saw Tyral flashed through my mind like a public flogging.

As I walked into the throne room, I couldn’t hold back my frown. I had no idea what my father had requested my presence for. I had a foreboding feeling about this meeting. Mother wasn’t here, something about tracking down some leads, which made me all the more nervous. Since I had brought up making my relationship official with Tyral, things had been rather strained between father and I.

I walked through the open doors and gave a short bow of my head to the man sitting on the throne. “You requested my presence, father.”

The aging grey haired man got up off of his seat, striding purposefully towards me. Despite his advanced age, he still had a commanding presence, his cold blue eyes sending involuntary shivers down my spine. “Yes. I have put up with your foolish and disgusting behaviour for long enough. You will either relinquish your rights as Prince and future King, or you break any and all ties and contact with that man. I will not allow you to tarnish our good name any further.”

Staring at my father in horror, I looked into his eyes to try and see any shred of humanity or decency in him. I quickly realised that that was a futile endeavour. There never was any. “But, Father, she was to be my betrothed!”

The King's face twisted into a disgusted sneer. “Bring him in!” He bellowed suddenly.

I watched with horror as several high level soldiers dragged Tyral into the room in chains. Her face was bruised and bleeding; my heart broke as my beloved looked at me with a tender expression, hiding the pain and fear from me. Even now, she was trying to protect me.

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“Father! What have you done?” I turned to the soldiers holding Tyral. “Release her at once, I command you!”

No one moved, the soldiers completely ignoring me. I started moving towards Tyral, when my father spoke. “Leave him. Renounce your relationship,” I heard new levels of disgust in his voice as he said that, “and all is forgiven. Your… friend, will be released, on the proviso that he never returns to our lands, or if you don’t, then his life will be forfeited, right here and now.”

I spun around to look my father in the eye, growing rage in my heart. “You can’t do this!”

“I can, and will, if you force my hand. Now choose.”

Holding back my tears, my fists clenched as I glared at the monster who called himself my father. “I can’t. I won’t.”

Instead of getting angry, my father seemed almost pleased. “Then you have forfeited his life. Guards, take this man away and execute him.”

My heart constricted into a ball of ice as I desperately thought about how I could get out of this with everything I wanted, everything I needed. The King, for I refused to call him father, was still a higher level, and there are too many protections built into the room. I could never fight my way out of this with my beloved and live. Furthermore, the soldiers were hand-picked men, utterly loyal to the King.

“No,” I said weakly, “no,” I repeated, stronger this time, “that won’t be necessary. I will relinquish my betrothal to her, if you promise that she will not be harmed any further.”

The King smiled. It was not a friendly smile. “Good. You’re making the right choice, my son. Let it be known though, he will be watched, and if you step out of line again, I will not hesitate to do what needs to be done. Do you understand?”

I stared into the eyes of my beloved. My heart was broken, but I saw compassion and understanding underneath her pain and tears. Tyral and I had discussed what to do if my father ever decided to move against us. We had decided that this was the best that we could do, until I found a way to bring him down.

Resigned to playing my fathers twisted game for a little longer, I clenched my fists and stood up straight, looking him in the eyes. “I understand.”

Wiping away a single tear that slid down my cheek, I opened the letter and quickly read through it.

Prince Enoc Val al Vaurn,

I am writing to formally request aid on behalf of the Kingdom of Arelisia. Attached is a verified report on a sizable horde of undead moving through Demon’s Pass, towards the already destroyed town of West End. Your assistance with your Wing Command would be valuable in defending the kingdom. Time is of the essence, and a Wing Command is able to move swiftly. A request for aid from the Arelisian King to yours has already been sent, I merely wished to lend my weight to the gravity of the situation we have found ourselves in.

Formally,

Expedition Leader, Battlemage Tyral.

P.S. Burn this letter.

P.P.S. Just in case saving an ally kingdom is not incentive enough for your king, I have found your Star, but please do not tell him this if you do not have to. I will explain more when you get here.

A loud gasp escaped my lips as I finished the letter. Finally, after nearly nine months of searching, Emilria had been spotted. I snorted, and by Tyral, no less. The irony of someone my father despises achieving what his men couldn’t wasn’t lost on me.

Drumming my fingers on my desk, I considered every angle. I reread the letter, committing it to memory, before holding it over the candle on the desk. I waited until it was a smouldering pile of ash in my hand before throwing it out of the window. A cold draft blew through before I could close the gap I had made, and it was instances like this that made me glad that I was highly resistant to elemental effects. Finally, once there was no evidence of a personal letter, I picked up the official report and read through it, thoroughly grasping all the facts before I was finished with it.

I sighed as I packed everything away on my desk, washed my hands with the cloth I always kept handy, and straightened up my uniform. It wouldn’t do to address the king looking unkempt, after all.

As I walked into the study that my mother and the king were occupying, both turned to look at me. My mother’s eyes held warmth and compassion in them, while the king’s were cold and emotionless. He had barely warmed up to me in the months since he had given me the ultimatum that had killed any love I had for him.

My mother smiled at me. “Enoc! My darling boy. To what do we owe this pleasure?”

Rolling my eyes, I hugged her. “Can a son not come and visit his mother whenever he’d like?” I smiled back at her as I pulled back with my hands on her shoulders. “Unfortunately, it’s not a pleasant visit. I have just been given word of an undead horde invasion and a request from Arelisia for aid. I was just coming to inform you that I was leaving with my Wing in due haste. It’ll still take us time to get there. We can only hope I arrive in time to back up the expedition holding the line.”

“No.”

The single word spoken from King Heran was cold and firm, expecting to be obeyed.

“Pardon?” I asked, dumbfounded at his response.

“I said, no. I am not in the habit of repeating myself.”

I hastily shoved my anger down, it would not do to shout at him. “Father,” I said, working hard to not show any derision in my voice, “They require aid, and have requested us, specifically. I know you have a plan about letting the dragons wear down our allies so they’ll be easier to handle once the dragons have been dealt with, but this is too much. If left unchecked, this undead threat could very quickly become unstoppable.”

King Heran gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “I highly doubt that. They’re undead, little better than pests. I say let Arelisia take care of it.”

“The average undead isn’t much of a threat, I agree. Except, the undead rely on numbers, and unfortunately, anything killed by them joins their ranks to fight, if they aren’t totally destroyed. And this is why I need to go. My Wing will barely be harmed, and we’ll gain valuable political capital for aiding them. As well as this, we can use this as a good example why you’re holding back your forces in the war effort.”

The monster wearing the crown was pensive for a moment as he turned his back and looked into the fireplace.

“Besides,” I continued, “it’ll be good training for my Wing, and I am going. I have already sent the order for them to prepare Storm Front for the mission.”

King Heran turned a sharp glance at me, pinning me with his eyes, but still didn’t say anything.

Knowing he was moments away from telling me to stand down and give me a tongue lashing, I spoke up quickly. “I was anticipating our needs and taking command. Is this not what you’ve always wished of me?”

Sighing, the king turned back to the fire. “Very well. It is pleasing for me to see that you are finally embracing your role as the future king. Destroy the undead threat, and show Arelisia why they should be afraid of us.”

Bowing my head slightly, I made sure to school my features to hide my smile. “Yes, my King.”

I turned to my mother, and gave her a slightly bigger bow of my head. I smiled as I then left to see to the preparations. Francisco was an excellent first officer, and would already have everything well underway, but I wished to discuss with her what the mission would entail and what we’d need for it. Finally, Storm Front was going to war.