NALORIE~
The skyline gracefully lowers the sun, casting its warm hues on the other side of the earth, as the night stealthily encroaches like a silent fighter. Some warriors retreat to their quarters, others venture into the capital, while a ifew seek solace in the mysteries of the brothel, obscured from prying eyes. Delphine embarks on a mission with Storm and ten others to reclaim what Azume once was or whatever remains of my shattered home. They are tasked with spying and gathering information on Arthur's wielded power.
Alone in this moment, I find myself with wandering thoughts and the company of my cub, nestled close for comfort. As the leaves of the forest rustle, the evening breeze gently caresses my arms and legs, triggering memories of the chilling cold I endured two moons ago in the mountain snow.
A sudden sound jolts me from my reverie, and my cub stirs in his sleep, seeking refuge on my thighs. The tree leaves rustle again, this time with a hint of suspicion. Like a swift white lightning bolt, a deadly arrow whizzes past my right ear, leaving a painful cut in its wake. Hoping for a response, the unseen assailant hurls another weapon, a dagger this time. My cub awakens in defense mode, emitting a low growl as I draw my sword and seek cover behind a tree. The tip of my ear bleeds uncontrollably; the poison lingers, and my only focus is on avoiding a coward's demise and becoming prey once more.
Rough hands, calloused and firm, caress my face, muttering strange incantations as my pain intensifies. It feels as if my bones and veins are being punctured and hammered relentlessly. The torment persists for what seems like an eternity, and then it abruptly ceases. My vision clears, the forest regains its tranquility as if the chaos was a figment of my imagination. No bleeding, no pain—I feel normal. The only tangible evidence of the ordeal is the warm sensation in the pit of my belly and a glowing leaf cradled in the palm of my hand.
In the midst of the lush landscape, my cub's growls reverberate as I contemplate the glowing leaf, a mysterious gift from the enigmatic Orion Xerxes, the mad king of the south. Despite his fearsome reputation, my lion cub, surprisingly cuddly, nuzzles against me. Wrapped in a white kerchief to conceal the insignia bestowed upon me, I ponder the significance of this unexpected token.
Legend weaves a tale of Xerxes, cursed at birth and bearing the weight of a seer's prophecy predicting his cruelty. The encounter in the forest leaves me bewildered, questioning why the mad king would impart to me an insignia reserved for a king's consort or heir. As the daughter of a powerful ruler with a contentious history with Xerxes, unraveling this mystery becomes a complex endeavor.
The moon cast its silvery glow upon the pathway as Delphine and I walked in tandem, the rhythmic crunch of leaves beneath our boots accompanying the night's symphony. The Zulkian warriors trailed behind us, their imposing silhouettes merging with the shadows of the towering trees that lined the pathways.
"The political landscape is shifting, noblemen stripped of wealth, their fates entwined with the capricious decisions of a vengeful ruler."
Delphine's voice, usually resonant and firm, now carried a measured cadence. She spoke in fragments, each word laden with unspoken weight. Between pauses, she would hesitate, delicately broaching the subject of unspeakable atrocities befalling the vulnerable.
"I won't falter in my resolve, even in the face of such heinous acts," I declare, cutting through the somber atmosphere. My focus remains steadfast on liberating my people. As we discuss the turmoil within Azume, I inquire about the borders, seeking any potential vulnerabilities.
In this intricate web of politics and intrigue, the insignia burns brighter, a tangible reminder of a connection that demands exploration. The journey ahead is fraught with uncertainty, and my determination to confront King Orion grows stronger, though convincing Delphine proves to be a challenge in itself.
*********
The intensity of the training under Delphine's guidance escalated to unprecedented levels, marked by an unmistakable rigor that surpassed any prior sessions. If my thoughts served me correctly, the intensity seemed to be intricately tied to the conspicuous insignia King Orion adorned me. A symbol of authority that both intrigued and perturbed, its presence was met with a shift in the demeanor of the Zulkian warriors, who, in an uncharacteristic manner, began to tread cautiously in my presence.
The uncertain indifference of Delphine regarding the insignia further fueled my curiosity and, at times, frustration. The air became charged with unspoken tension, akin to an unsurfaced undercurrent threatening to disrupt the otherwise disciplined facade of the warrior enclave. The very emblem that bore the weight of a fallen kingdom now seemed to cast an insidious shadow, affecting not only my interactions but the dynamics of the entire warrior community.
The ceremonial supper games, an entrenched tradition among the Zulkians, unfolded beneath the canopy of night. A series of skillful contests where triumph would bestow not only a pouch of coveted gold coins but also a coveted week of immunity from the relentless arena battles. Conversely, the loser of these games, relegated to the ignominious position of "the tail of the house," faced a week of servitude, obligated to cater to the whims of their triumphant comrades.
On the eve of these games, the veiled shroud of silence surrounding the insignia was finally pierced. Delphine, her gaze oscillating between my visage and the emblem, broke the conspicuous silence with a tone laden with both concern and reproach.
"You must rid yourself of that emblem," Delphine intoned, her words a solemn mandate. "What were you thinking, princess? Laying yourself bare with King Orion's insignia in the open? It is vulnerability that we can't afford. Not this time when Arthur seem to be growing in power."
The weight of Delphine's words resonated like a solemn echo in the night air. It was an unequivocal call to action, a directive to sever the link that tethered me to the past. The games, now unfolding in the arena, seemed to mirror the broader struggle—both physical and symbolic—that defined my journey amongst the Zulkians.
As the clatter of the games reverberated through the night, the quest to liberate myself from the emblem's influence assumed a new urgency. The arena, a crucible of challenges, became a metaphorical battleground where the shackles of history would either be shattered or strengthened. The insignia, once an emblem of authority, now stood as a poignant symbol of the choices that lay ahead, as the echoes of Delphine's admonition lingers in the air.
As the nocturnal games unfolded, the symbolic struggle between triumph and servitude, the significance of Delphine's counsel became undeniably clear.
King Orion wants something from me, as I do him. We're both players in this game of crowns and crows, maybe it's time to pay the thieving king a visit.
As the game strings deeper into the night, we finally got a victor. And yes, it was storm. The sturdy and beautiful zulkian warrior whose obsession with me I find irritable and intriguing. The smug look adorning his chiseled face clash with my bored ones. I stare at him, my mind drifting away from the arena to the distant memory of my meeting with king Orion.
"Princess," Storm's voice, a melodic cadence that contrasted with the echoes of the arena, interrupted the reverie. "Tonight, I claim victory, in the arena. What say you to the conqueror who stands before you?"
I maintained my composure, a mask of indifference that belied the tumult within. "Congratulations, Storm. Enjoy the spoils of your victory."
The tension lingered, a palpable force that hung between us like a veil. As the echoes of the games faded into the nocturnal abyss, the interplay of crowns and crows, both in the arena and the realm of the heart, continued its enigmatic course.