A few days after the declaration of war, a cold morning swept over the
southern fortress of New Ethereal. A white dove landed on the arm of a guard,
carrying a scroll sealed with the golden lion of Valoria. The message was
quickly delivered to General Caelan Veynar.
He broke the seal and read swiftly, his voice echoing through the hall.
"Ten thousand soldiers will march with me to the Solaris frontier. The rest
will remain to safeguard New Ethereal. This city has only just risen again, and
it must not falter."
The command was carried out without delay. The sound of thousands of boots
thundered across the stone, banners of red and gold streamed in the wind, mages
lined up with staffs glowing blue, while qi knights strode forward radiating
energy that shimmered in the air.
Among them, a young soldier swallowed hard, whispering to his comrade.
"Solaris… are we truly marching to face the sun itself?"
His companion clasped his shoulder.
"Don't think of their numbers. Think of your step. We march with Valoria—that
is enough."
In the capital of Valoria, whispers filled the streets. Some spoke with
pride, others with dread.
"Our king dares to challenge the sun," cried a cloth merchant in the market.
"Dares? Or is he reckless?" his neighbor retorted. "If Solaris strikes back,
this city will burn first."
Yet along the main avenue, the people still stood in reverence as Arthur
rode past on his black steed. Behind him marched fifteen thousand soldiers.
Children waved small hands, elders knelt to the ground, praying in silence.
"Your Majesty!" shouted a young boy, his voice breaking with excitement.
"Bring victory home for Valoria!"
Arthur turned slightly, offering a faint smile before facing forward again.
The cheers of the crowd followed the army until the city gates closed behind
them.
Meanwhile, far away in a tent of black canvas adorned with the red sun,
Emperor Lucian Solaris sat across from his chief strategist, Varenius
Drakemont.
Drakemont bowed, then spread the map wide.
"Your Majesty, the latest reports: Valoria has moved twenty-five thousand
soldiers to the frontier. We have only twenty thousand stationed within Solaris
itself. To face them with that alone would be suicide."
Lucian narrowed his eyes, his face calm, unreadable.
"And what is your counsel, Drakemont?"
"Our original plan of pressing Veritas was only to force them to draw aid
away from Sunstones. Therefore, I propose we recall the twenty thousand troops
from Veritas and reposition them at the Solaris–Valoria frontier. This way, we
maintain fifty thousand besieging Sunstones, and forty thousand to defend our
border. The balance will be restored."
Lucian was silent for a moment before a low chuckle slipped from him.
"Good. Pull them back. Let the republic shiver in its own fear. We will teach
Arthur what it means to face the full sun."
Drakemont inclined his head, but his voice dropped as he pressed another
point.
"And Silverwood, Your Majesty? They rejected our hand."
Lucian rose, a single finger tracing the silver forests on the map.
"Let them live. For now. A forest cannot run away. When the time is right,
Silverwood too will bow."
At Ironvale, the Sunstones' capital, sweat and blood stained the stones as
the city held against the Solaris siege. The once unyielding walls now cracked
under the endless pounding of siege engines, towers burned, and waves of
enchanted arrows rained every hour. The defenders fought in shifts, pale with
exhaustion yet eyes still fierce.
On the wall itself, King Barthol Van Stones stood shoulder to shoulder with
his men. His armor was torn and dusted with ash, but his stance remained
unbroken. He looked out at the sea of Solaris tents stretching to the
horizon—fifty thousand soldiers pressing against a mere twenty thousand.
"Fifty thousand against twenty," muttered a soldier at his side.
"We are not numbers," Barthol answered firmly. "We are Sunstones. And Ironvale
will not fall easily."
A messenger rushed up the wall, breathless, clutching a note from a merchant
who had slipped in through the forest routes.
"Your Majesty! Silverwood has refused to aid Solaris in this war!"
Barthol's head snapped around, eyes brightening with fierce hope.
"Then there is still a chance. Send a rider to King Eryndor at once. Tell him:
Sunstones will stand with Valoria, but we need Silverwood to hold Solaris at
bay. If they do not wish to see Etheria consumed, then let them stand with us
now."
The rider bowed, accepting a scroll sealed with gold, and departed into the
night, galloping through the silver forests with Sunstones' fastest steed.
By nightfall, Arthur's host arrived first at the Solaris frontier. He raised
his hand to halt the march.
"We camp here. Fortify the walls, build watchtowers. Tonight we rest. Tomorrow,
we face the sun."
At once, soldiers sprang into action. Tents rose in rows, campfires lit the
darkness, and the smell of simple broth carried on the wind. Hammers struck
wood, men shared nervous laughter as they worked.
"Will Solaris truly come?" whispered Darin, a young recruit from Ethereal.
"They will," his companion replied, voice trembling. "The question is… who will
still be standing by morning."
Arthur climbed the old border wall. The night wind carried smoke, and faint
across the horizon came the slow, thunderous beat of Solaris' war drums,
pounding like a second heartbeat in every chest. Beyond, thousands of enemy
campfires burned in lines, a false constellation marking the storm that was
coming.
Arthur stood tall, cloak whipping in the night wind. His voice was low, but
clear enough for his commanders nearby to hear.
"Tomorrow, the world will know whether Valoria is merely a name… or a power
bold enough to challenge the sun."