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The Weight of the Crown

Kyna

❁ Belles Fleurs ❁

War broke out between two superpower countries, and the neighbouring kingdoms are on pins and needles knowing that they too are endangered by the feud. One kingdom in particular has initiated a proposal to wed their heir and heiress of another neutral kingdom together to form a solid alliance. However, the Princess runs away after knowing that her childhood friend, one of the elite Royal Knights was sent to lead a squad against a small army of necromancers that threaten to breach the Northern defenses of the country. Being a priestess, her holy powers gave her the misguided confidence that she can save her friend.

Enraged and ashamed, the Prince leaves the castle at night and sets out to rescue his soon-to-be wife, and throughout their journeys, learns that sometimes to protect his people, being passive may not be the only choice he has.

( A 1x1 between @Lavender Symphony )​
 

"With courage you will dare to take risks, have the strength to be compassionate, and the wisdom to be humble. Courage is the foundation of integrity."





Darkness was falling.



Through the thicket of trees, Adella could see the golden sun setting over the Northern mountains- like a giant saucer skimming the edge of the planet. She sighed at the distance between her and the peaks, knowing that the border where her friend now stood would be a lengthy journey. Once more, Adella looked down at the beads held in her hand, a reminder that the Spirits were over her in protection, and she pressed onwards towards the light.






12 Hours Prior..


Adella giggled while sitting outside, enjoying the way the bright colors of the lawn would glimmer in reflection from the sun. It was a nice day; the temperatures cool, skies crystal clear, and the sun as bright as ever. She had skipped the opportunity to try on wedding gowns and all of that
"stuff" to sit in the gardens, "reading up on her betrothed's kingdom", quoting herself directly. Instead, she was doing the opposite. Adella wasn't reading. Nor was she thinking about Ivan at all.


A daydream had begun inside her mind.



Peaceful towns. No pillars of smoke rising up from the town centres, no crops set ablaze, no hungry families begging in the streets for food. A time of neutrality. No war, no famine, no stench of death, and no disease.


"Your majesty, "


A thick voice cut through the silence, and Adella's thoughts. She snapped up from her resting place, casting a glare to whomever had disrupted her contemplations.


"Whatever you do, don't tell them that I was doing that. I need a break from all of this wedding hooha, my mind can only take so much of their tulle and pearls and diamonds,"

She paused to take a breath, making eye contact with the courier for the first time since his appearance.

"Oh, hush, you don't have to bow, love. What is it?"

The courier stepped forward, handing Adella a slim envelope addressed to her, using her childhood nickname, 'Della'. She tilted her head, looking back up at the courier with curiosity, anticipating an explanation.

"From one a' the Royal Knights. I dunno who. Ma' boss just told me to get it ta Your Majesty, expedited. "


She nodded, looking the envelope over, the smiled up at the courier brightly. Without any word, he was dismissed, and Adella was left with whatever the letter contained.





Six Hours Prior..





Adella rushed around the palace, her shoes clicking against the marble the only sound that resonated through the halls. Her previously sunny temperament had turned into a thunderstorm of worry, rage, and upset. She walked around the house, getting maps and stuffing them into her only satchel.


"I'm going on a walk,"


Adella would simply say if anyone had questioned her. Nobody, of course, would do that, except for maybe her own mother, Queen Idina. Adella kept careful to slip by the luncheon room, where several ladies' voices oscillated throughout the wing, with no sound, so her mother nor one any of the advisors would detect her. Carefully, she raised the skirts of her dress, and opened the North Door.





Present..


Darkness had fallen fully now. The sounds of the forest eerily invaded her mind, driving a chill to the heart of Adella's bones. Nearly exhausted, she pulled a few lightstones from her satchel to illuminate the map held in her hand. In the near distance stood the almost-border town Perthyne, a small town that could harbor her as a fugitive, if she could easily disguise herself. Behind her, to the south, lay the tiny mountain range, and farther back, her home. Nestled away in the rolling Verde hills, the Erenoa palace was something she could never escape the sight of. No matter where you were in Dieveth, you always had a bearing where the palace stood.



Adella sighed, ripping off a layer of her skirt to use as a headscarf, wrapping it delicately so only a slimmer of her fiery red hair would be visible to the public. Hopefully the people wouldn't be too keen on searching for a runaway Princess by dawn.





@Mugcake, I hope this is enough for you to work off of!





 
Two men stood behind a lad who was donning on his knight's apparel. The bigger of the duo had the figure of a bear, and the growl of his voice resembled one as well. "By the gods, boy. Are you sure you Kael'Tharis can be neutralised? We are talking about a necromancer here."


"And his legion treading towards us. How many are they?" The second voice had a mild lisp to his speech, and sounded lighter.


"Three thousand, from the account of the scout," the blonde man was finally done equipping his underclothes, quilted garments and chain mail, "And I will bring a thousand men with me. Two hundred on steeds." As he reached for the iron gauntlets hung on the brass rack, a chaffed and strong hand slapped itself onto his wrist. He didn't bother to turn to the voice.


"Bilford, have you told the princess?"


Blue eyes blew wide, but quickly steeled into a glare.
"I hope you're not going to prance to Her Highness and tattle-tale on my little excursion."


"Then you have not." Unamused by this, the burly soldier shook his head with a grim face and moved his hand away, to which Marcus deftly resumed his dressing.


There was a pregnant silence looming over, but before long, their younger friend was finished. The bulk of his armour made his head look small in the reflection, and as he faced the mirror with the face of a man prepared for death, he spoke,
"I will run a letter to Princess Adella after we reach the last camp. It will be too late for her to have any say then. Dieveth is my home, and it is my duty to serve as the king's sword. I cannot abandon that, even if it would break the heart of a maiden."


"A royal lady, at that," there was a knowing sense of jest in the lisp-y voice.


"I sometimes forget that," Marcus, for the first time that day, held a small smile.




"We stand today, my brothers. In the face of un-death. I know this may be a new enemy for some of you, but be brave. Think of your family, think of your home. Think of those who lie awake at night in fear for these damned creatures. And today, we will take away those fears for them. We will crush them, for our loved ones, and for Dieveth!"


As his large squadron cheered for his speech, invigorated and empowered, Marcus threw one last glance at the castle he couldn't see from here, and under his breath, prayed,
"Heavens, be upon me."









The clashing of swords mingled with an uproarious warcry. While the skeletal warriors were easy to take down, they were heavily supported by the zombie elves raining down arrows on the mass. Kael'Tharis clearly found his soldiers expendable, for his fighters who were vanquished by friendly fires, stepped on by steel-toed boots were ignored.



Instead, he focused on tapping to his mana to continuously raise the dead, culling the humans with their own fallen comrades.



Realising this, Marcus cleared a path to the necromancer, ambitiously aiming for the dark mage. His sword, brandished with holy water and the blessing of light, easily sliced through the flesh of an abomination that stood in the way to protect its master.



It was all too easy.


... to distract him. Kael'Tharis sneered, knowing that that one second the young knight's view was obstructed, was his gateway to turning the tides again. He teleported his way to the back of the massive rotting body and nimbly plunged the sharp tip of his sceptre through the seam tore open by Marcus' offence, straight into the torso of the blonde man, who was frozen in shock by the ambush.


It had pierced right into his heart, Marcus realised as he dropped his gaze in disbelief. He hadn't known that the dark mage could teleport as well. His confidence had done him wrong and brought him death.



Or at least, that was what he thought, until he felt an uncomfortable strength surging straight into his core, setting his nerves on fire.
"What-"


He was being converted, much to his horror.



While it was easy to raise a corpse into doing the biddings of necromancer, it was an entirely different case for converting a still-living man into an undead. Yes, it required much more effort, but the price was worth the trouble.



The young knight tried to extract himself off the glowing sceptre, but found that his limbs were paralysed, and could only slump against the intruding object while feeling his senses twisted against his will.



A blazing arrow struck Kael'Tharis' thigh, to which he yelped in agony and fell to the side. Through the pain, he barely made out the perpetrator and hissed.
"Damn elves!"


Crossing a fiery gaze with him was Ereve Windsong, leader of the forest's First Line Defence. The bloodbath on the battlefield had disturbed the trees to the side, and they had quickly rallied for help to cease the disturbance. Since elves were known to travel in small groups, their reinforcements for the humans were little help, but amidst the falsely hopeful men, Marcus rejoiced, because taking even just Kael'Tharis down would decapitate the entire undead army.



The elven woman, with her red hair braided behind her and quiver in one hand, bow in the other, said nothing, and prepared to fire another arrow at the necromancer while chanting a spell in Elvish. Her fellow followers were already mix of firing, readying and summoning wooden golems as they tried to break up the fight, neither assisting the humans nor hindering them.



 
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The sun had disappeared completely behind the horizon hours ago.


Adella trudged on in the stark darkness, having no bearings of direction except that she was headed north, towards the border. She couldn't see even a meter in front of her, and that was with the assistance of the lightstones. From her current position, Perthyne seemed kilometers away. The small town flickered like a candle flame on the horizon. Adella gave a small sigh, rolling her neck while her gaze fixed upon the village.



She would have to get there before dawn if she even wanted the slightest of a chance to prevent Marcus from furthering his chances of perishing.






"Grant thy protection, and in protection; strength. And in strength; understanding. And in understanding; knowledge. And in knowledge; the knowledge of justice. And in the knowledge of justice; the love of it. And in the love of it; the love of all existences. And in that love;the love of spirit and all creation."


Adella sighed, relaxing all of her muscles as she stood at the gate of Perthyne. Her skirts were muddy with wet silt; her shoes scuffed and scratched from rough terrain; her palms calloused and bleeding from shaping her path through the unforgiving forests of Dieveth. After what seemed like years of devotion to her journey, Adella was one step closer to retrieving her friend from the dangers battle imposes.


The warm light Perthyne emitted touched Adella's fair skin with a warm embrace. For once that evening, she felt relaxed. At eased. Even in the night time, with rogue assassins and thieves ever imposing threat, Adella could breathe the air with no fear.


She gave a warm smile, and pressed onward into the village.


Barely any of the dwellings were lit at this hour, but the candlelit streetlamps provided a cozy illumination. The air was sweet, unlike any that she had ever inhaled before. It filled her lungs with a comforting feeling; thus reminding Adella of home. For a second, she ached for the safe confines of the palace library, and the windows overlooking Dieveth in ever direction imaginable. She turned around, looking south. Before she could catch a glimpse of her home, Adella's yearning gaze stopped on a dark figure directly behind her.






"M-miss?"


A child's voice cut through the air, which prompted Adella to rush to the figure's side. Her eyes probed the young person's body, but couldn't detect any foul done to the being. Opening her mouth, she began to speak-only to be cut off by the voice once more.


"I'm lost and tired, miss. Will you help me, miss?"


Without thinking, Adella nodded, grabbing the hand of the youth and proceeding forward.


"Of course. If you'll follow along, I know of a nice town up ahead where we can get a courier running to send a notice to your parents. You'll be fine, love."


She smiled, trudging up the last hill before land dropped down to a flat plain.


The air went strangely quiet, and she could feel a hum in the air. As if something with great power were near. She looked down to the child with a reassuring smile, shaking off her unesse, and took a step forward.



The tiny hand that was held in hers suddenly released.



A burning pain in her leg seared across Adella's mind.



Her mouth opened wide in a scream, while her eyes scrambled to look for her ailment. A blade was plunged deep in her thigh, blood profusely radiating from the wound, and the mysterious child had disappeared. She gasped for air, finally letting out an ear-splitting scream.



The world then went dark for Adella.









 

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