The scent of smoke still hung heavy in the air, biting at my lungs as I stepped through the blackened remains of what had once been the Order's stronghold. The stones were cracked, the banners shredded, and ash drifted like fallen snow in the cold morning light. Around me, the echoes of betrayal still whispered from every corner — but I refused to let the ruins swallow what I was building.
The Order of the Two Crowns was dead. Long live the Virellan Guard.
I gathered those few who still believed — or maybe those who simply owed me their lives. Scarred, battle-worn, and wary, they looked to me not as a princess or a legend, but as a leader who had survived hell and come out refined.
From the wreckage, I forged a new path. One built not on prophecy or ancient bloodlines, but on loyalty — raw, fierce, earned.
Calen Thorne — The Blade and Shield
Calen was the first to swear himself to me, though his silence spoke louder than words.
I found him in a dank, rusted cell in a forgotten outpost of the Drakari — condemned for crimes he didn't commit and labeled a monster for the blood he carried in his veins. His broad shoulders hunched under the weight of chains and injustice, but when I stood between him and the executioner's blade, something unspoken passed between us.
"Why?" His voice was low, rough from disuse.
"Because I see strength worth more than any verdict," I said, my voice steady despite the ache in my side.
Calen's dark eyes, sharp and wary, studied me for a long moment before he nodded. "I'm no knight, but I'm yours."
And with that, the man who could cleave stone with his bare hands became my blade — silent and deadly. Calen didn't speak much, but when he moved, it was with a precision and force that made enemies reconsider their choices.
Savi Elowen — The Seer Bound by Chains
Savi's freedom came at a cost — mine and hers.
I found her in a cell drenched in shadow and forgotten prayers, a gifted spell-seer locked away for crimes that were nothing more than fear dressed in robes. Her eyes shimmered with the weight of visions she could barely bear, but behind them lay a fierce loyalty waiting to ignite.
"When you freed me, you didn't free just my body," her voice shook. "You freed every tomorrow I thought was lost."
Her magic was wild, a double-edged gift that could reveal truths or shatter minds. She became our compass, her visions guiding our strategy — sometimes warning us of dangers before they even materialized.
Her faith in me was unshakable, her devotion bordering on reverence. But I never demanded it — it was given, fiercely, like a flame stoked in the darkest nights.
Fenrik "Flick" Dalmar — The Rogue in the Shadows
If Calen is my shield and sword, Savi is my guide , then Flick was the shadows themselves — slippery, unpredictable, and invaluable.
Left for dead by the Order during a mission gone wrong, I found him bleeding and broken, but still grinning that maddening smirk.
"You owe me," he joked, blood smeared on cracked lips.
"No. We owe each other," I said.
Flick's talents were as varied as his past — a master spy, a great assassin (keeping jobs clean), an information broker, and an occasional jester. His wits were sharp, his loyalty sharper. He wove through courts and back alleys alike, bringing news and secrets that kept us one step ahead.
Forging the Code
Our bond wasn't built on titles or magic — it was forged in the blood and sweat we spilled for each other.
Loyalty wasn't given. It wasn't taken. It was earned.
We created a new code, a simple creed that bound us tighter than any chain or oath:
"Bound by blood, loyal by choice."
And beneath the flickering torchlight of our hidden camp, they swore this truth:
"Lyra Virellin is the only queen we follow."
The First Gathering
Our camp was nothing grand — a collection of tents and salvaged wood nestled deep in the wildlands, shielded by dense trees and sharp eyes. It was a refuge and a crucible where we learned to shape our fractured strengths into a force capable of bending fate.
One bitter night, as frost curled over the ground and breath crystallized in the air, we gathered around a fire. The flames flickered wildly, casting long shadows that danced on weathered faces.
Calen, ever the sentinel, broke the silence first.
"We're no army," he said, voice low and steady. "But we're enough."
Savi's gaze was distant but fierce. "Enough to change the course of kingdoms," she added, her voice trembling with the weight of visions yet to come.
Flick twirled a dagger lazily between his fingers, a crooked grin playing on his lips. "Enough to break some heads along the way."
I looked at them — my family by choice, my shield against the night.
"This is no longer an exile," I said, my voice strong despite the storm inside. "This is rebellion. This is hope."
Building From Ashes
Every day was a battle. Training, planning, recruiting — turning desperate survivors into warriors, spies, healers. Every victory was small and hard-won, every loss a lesson carved deep into our souls.
Trust was a currency more precious than gold. I tested every new member — for loyalty, strength, and heart. Many faltered. Some betrayed. But those who stayed proved that the Virellan Guard was more than a name — it was a promise.
Quiet Moments, Hard Truths
In stolen moments, away from the weight of leadership, I felt the crushing loneliness of it all. The crown I never wanted pressed heavy on my head, and the ghosts of my past whispered doubts.
One night, Savi found me staring into the dying embers of the fire.
"You carry the world's weight," she said softly.
"And what if I fail?" I asked, voice barely a whisper.
"Then we fail with you," she said. "But you won't."
Her words were a balm and a blade — a reminder that I wasn't alone, even when it felt like I was falling in the darkness.
The Future in Our Hands
The Virellan Guard was no fairy tale. We were the shadows, darkness, whispers, and new leaders.
As I looked around at those faces — Calen's quiet strength, Savi's fierce eyes, Flick's rogue grin — I knew this was only the beginning.
The old crowns had fallen. The old orders were broken.
And a new dawn was coming.
This time, it would be forged by fire, loyalty, and the queen who refused to be forgotten.