The flickering fire cast long shadows against the tent's canvas walls. Laughter roared from the soldiers' gathering nearby, celebrating what they called an inevitable victory. But my heart felt heavy, numb.
"You're just twenty," the older soldier said, clinking his cup against mine. "Your life is just beginning. When I was your age, I'd already fought three battles. Don't be so gloomy, Elias."
He grinned, oblivious to the tightness in my chest.
Beside him, Gareth Quinn, my cousin and commanding officer, gave a rare smile. "He's right. You're still young. With time, you'll find your place."
I looked into the fire, unsure what place was ever meant for someone like me.
Later that night, Gareth passed me a skewer of roasted meat. "Hungry?"
I took it silently. The warmth of the food contrasted sharply with the bitter chill settling in my bones.
"I've been away from the capital too long," Gareth said. "I miss nothing of that place except for one thing—freedom. In the army, even with bloodshed, a man knows where he stands."
His gaze shifted toward me. "You, Elias. Do you resent the Quinn family?"
My throat tightened. The flames crackled, covering the silence that followed.
"I don't resent anything," I said at last. "Some things are... just fate."
He nodded slowly, accepting the vague answer. "Then make your own path."
The celebration faded into exhaustion. One by one, the soldiers drifted off to sleep. I slipped away quietly, clutching a parchment tightly rolled in my hands.
In the solitude of my tent, I unrolled the map—my map.
A perfect replica of the terrain. Only one critical path had been subtly altered.
Earlier that day, I'd swapped the original with this one. I had seen the truth behind the war—the betrayal brewing beneath.
This battle was a facade.
Damien wanted a reason to wipe out the Quinns. A false victory masking a massacre.
He planned it with clinical cruelty. Our path through the mountain would lead us straight into a trap. And no one else knew.
No one except me.
So I acted.
I changed the route, diluted the water with sleeping draughts, altered the supplies. It was treason—and a desperate attempt to save Gareth, to save the thousand men who followed him blindly.
Even if it cost me everything.
The night air was freezing. My hands trembled as I folded the forged map, hiding it beneath my tunic.
I moved with purpose, passing through sleeping bodies and dying embers. No one stirred.
Reaching Gareth's tent, I knelt quietly by his sleeping form. He looked so peaceful. So unaware.
I slid the letter into his satchel—the one that would explain everything when the time came.
My confession.
My goodbye.
My voice was only a whisper.
"Forgive me, big brother. This is the only way."
Then I turned and disappeared into the dark.
Far away, beneath stars and secrets, Damien Drake stood by a fire, reading dispatches.
"The decoy force moves east," his general reported. "The real strike will happen once the Quinns are exposed."
Damien nodded, his profile cut from stone.
Another man hesitated before speaking. "Your Majesty, what of Elias Quinn? Should we extract him before the assault?"
Damien's jaw tensed. His eyes flickered.
"No."
The single word fell like ice.
"He chose to follow Gareth. Let him see what loyalty costs."
But even as he said it, his hand clenched around the letter Elias had once written and never sent. Folded. Crumpled. But kept.
He closed his eyes. And for a moment, the Emperor of Dragon's Throne looked like a man drowning.
Back at the front line, the forged map guided Gareth's troops through treacherous terrain. But the ambush Damien had planned never came.
By the time Gareth awoke and found my letter, it was too late to question the choices.
But it was enough to change direction.
Enough to live.
I stood alone atop a cliff as the sun began to rise, wind whipping my cloak.
When Damien arrived with his guards, our eyes met across the space between us.
"You knew," he said.
"I did."
His voice broke. "You ruined everything."
"I saved them," I said. "From you."
He took a step forward. "Come back. I'll spare them. I'll do anything. Elias—"
I smiled faintly, the wind carrying my voice.
"Too late, Your Majesty. You were never trying to love me. You only wanted to own me."
He shouted my name as I stepped back into the void.
Darkness took me. But I lived.
Fate, it seemed, had not yet finished with me.