The temple was all that had been ascribed to it within, what he had once believed to be ludicrous, myths. Standing at the entrance now with the sun at its highest peek in the sky at his back, he couldn't deny the sense of awe that left his legs momentarily paralyzed as the sunlight washed over the temple and ignited it with an otherworldly glow.
Four golden arches lined the stone path of the temple's entrance. Overgrown vinery cascaded over the the stone walls of the temple, but it was apparent their unkempt presence was purposeful, as most of the city was overruled by nature's greenery.
The wind shifted, hitting the exposed skin of his neck with a soft, icy kiss from the approaching winter from the north, stirring him from his reverie.
"King Rogan?"
He needn't turn to see who had addressed him. He'd know that gravely voice anywhere.
"Dirk," he muttered, steeling himself as he shifted his weight onto the other foot and prepared to step forward.
However, the Captain of the Guard took the initiative to move first and abruptly cut the king off in mid-step. His eagerness had frayed Rogan's nerves and tested the goodness within him to its final measure.
"I'll go first, sire," he suggested. But he gave him no time to deny the request before bounding down the length of the path towards the guards stationed at the temple's doors.
Rogan gritted his teeth, biting back a curse. At first, he had believed giving Dirk the position as captain had seemed like a good idea. He was young and bright, but it was the passion he'd seen reflected in his eyes, that had reminded him of a younger version of himself when he had badgered his father for the position as king. Naively, he had sought to prove his deceased father that a young man could, in fact, lead.
However, he now understood why his father waited years before passing down the throne.
With somber, dirt-smeared faces the gruesome trekking across the eastern kingdom had left behind, the soldiers shuffled behind him silently, though he had sensed their growing displeasure. If he wasn't careful he'd lose their trust. But surely, they understood the importance of traveling to meet the queen. After all, a treaty was the only thing standing between them and war.
Yet, as he peered over his shoulder, all he found were scowls and downcast gazes.
"State your business," the guard said as they approached the temple's entrance.
The king opened his mouth, but Dirk spoke first.
"King Rogan has journeyed far so that he could request an audience with the Queen," Dirk explained.
Rogan glared at him, but Dirk either didn't notice the disapproving look or didn't care.
The soldier scoffed. "Queen Adelaide has no interest in entertaining kingdoms who turned a blind eye to Lord Alistair and his cruelty."
Dirk placed a hand on the hilt of the sword that hung off his hip. "How dare-"
"We come with peaceful intentions, and only wish to help," Rogan interjected, staying Dirk's hand by moving to stand between him and the temple guard.
The guard had withdrawn his sword, but he kept it lowered as he considered Rogan's words.
"Fine," he growled, begrudgingly.
Ushering them forward, the guard barked for another guard to open the doors. As the man pulled the doors ajar, Rogan was once again wonderstruck. Golden accents, crown molding, and painted ceilings decorated the interior of the temple. Even the floor tiles were laced with gold. It was no secret the kingdom was wealthy with all the gold mines, but he hadn't expected the extravagance spent on a single building. It was as gaudy as it was astounding.
As they entered a room empty save for a single throne seated on a platform in the middle of the room, his gaze rested on what filled the throne- or more precisely, on who.
The queen's beauty had sparked rumors across the eight kingdoms, but it wasn't the woman's attractiveness that piqued his interest, but the aura of power that radiated from the regal set of her chin and domineering glare of her blue eyes.
The web of black hair fell along her shoulders and down her arms in waves, like brewing storm clouds rolling in from the east. Eastern storm systems were always the worst. They were unnatural, having distorted the direction of the wind to form a detrimental gale that tossed the ocean like a water in child's bath bucket.
Her gaze matched the intensity of the severity of her looks. He knew her eyes locked on him unwavering with the intention to intimidate, but he wasn't fearful. Rather, he was intrigued.
"State your business," she said, reiterating the guard's words from the temple's entrance.
His eyes quickly adjusted to the dimly lit room and to her left and right he could see soldiers lingering in the shadows. Their presence was sure to make his men uneasy.
He bowed his head, hoping to communicate the desire for a peaceful interaction.
"Queen Adelaide, I am King Rogan from the Evari Kingdom-"
"I know who you are," she stated, coolly. "Tell me, Rogan, why are you here now instead of seven months ago? Did our messengers get lost along the way? Didn't you receive any of my letters? Did the smoke of the burning houses just now reach your corner of the sky?"
His jaw flexed. Any hope of a treaty diminished beneath her withering gaze. Behind him, he could almost hear the faith of his men splintering.
"Lord Alistair attacked our kingdom, as well," he said, treading carefully. "We couldn't afford diverting soldiers to other kingdoms. But we're here now, to humbly seek a treaty with you."
"Why would I sign a treaty with your kingdom?" she asked, incredulously.
"To defeat Lord Alistair," Rogan reasoned. "He has more of a chance at defeating the kingdoms if they're not united."
Adelaide frowned at his words. "Unity was possible seven months ago, but no longer. As you just proved with your own words, you aren't willing to invest infantry when your kingdom is also in danger."
"Exactly." Rogan indicated the men behind him with a flick of his wrist. "I wouldn't risk any of my men for a kingdom that isn't willing to sign a treaty. However, if a treaty were to be signed, we could create a single force and invade Lord Alistair's kingdom and defeat him once and for all."
With a dismissive shake of her head, she regarded him with a look of unbelief. "We can't possibly win with only our kingdoms. His kingdom is much larger."
"That's why it won't be just our kingdoms. We've already traveled to the other kingdoms. They've signed treaties and are planning to attack once I give the word."
Silence ensued. Motionless, the queen stared at him as she thought over his words. As their eyes remained locked on each other, his head began to hurt with what felt like to be the beginnings of a migraine, but he ignored it. He refused to look away or blink. Finally, she sighed and glanced to her left where a series of stained glass windows strangled the sunlight with their thick panes.
"I'll sign the treaty," she said.
Releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, he started forward, but she raised a hand, stopping him.
"On one condition."
"Which is?" he asked, through gritted teeth.
Her eyes narrowed. "When the time comes, I will be the one to kill Lord Alistair."
He smirked. "Deal."
-
His boots sunk deeper into the muck of mud and blood as he spun on his heel and caught an approaching soldier by the edge of sword. An unspoken word died on the enemy's lips, as they formed syllables, but only a gust of breath left his mouth as he fell face first at his feet.
Rogan looked away from the fallen man. He had had enough of war and death for two lifetimes. Gazing out over the sea of soldiers his eyes fastened on the only female. She swung her sword in a wide arc, deflecting an onslaught of attacks from nearby soldiers.
He watched her, mesmerized.
Having once been tied in a tight braid, wisps of her hair now stuck to her skin and the once softness of her pillowy lips were now thin and white as she beared a fierce snarl. The warrior he saw was a sharp contradiction to the beautiful royal he'd met just weeks before.
A brunt force to the head sent his thoughts reeling. He somehow managed to remain upright and turned to see a man standing there holding a club. Striking him with his sword, the man gasped and crumbled to the ground. Rogan rubbed the place the man had hit his head and cursed himself for being distracted.
His attention turned to the battle ahead. He needed to find Lord Alistair.
The moon etched the path to a castle carved into the side of the mountain. He followed it, hoping it would lead him to Lord Alistair.
Only a few more soldiers blocked the way to the throne room. They fell at the end of his blade just like the rest. Once within the room, he saw a silhouette of a man standing in the window, gazing out at the war that waged below.
As quietly as he could, he crossed the room, sword outstretched before him. However, a loud clanging sound alerted Alistair to the doors behind Rogan, and he turned before he could reach him.
"What, I wasn't invited?" Adelaide asked, strolling into the room with blood and dirt covering nearly every inch of her. It was unnerving how well she wore war, as if it were just another dress.
Lord Alistair seethed, shoving aside the robe that dragged the floor before him. "You."
She smiled. "Hello, father."
Rogan blanched. "Father?"
"Not by blood," she muttered, without glancing at Rogan. Her gaze remained fixated on Alistair as she turned the hilt of the sword over in her grasp.
"I still raised you," Alistair said. "And this is how you thank me by raiding my kingdom?"
A humorless laugh escaped Adelaide's lips. "You raised me? You abandoned me when I was seven and told me I didn't belong to you, that I was too weak."
Standing a few feet away from him, she stopped and raised her sword. The metal of her weapon snagged the trail of moonlight and shone vehemently in the dark room.
"Am I weak now?" she asked Alistair, her voice straining to a yell.
He chuckled. "You won't kill me. I know you."
Her knuckles tightened around the sword as she glared down the length of her blade at the man. But she didn't speak or move.
With his fingertips, Alistair reached out and pushed her weapon aside. A devious smile formed on his lips as he retracted a blade he had been holding behind his back, but Rogan didn't notice the smile, as he had positioned himself at the man's back while he had been distracted by the exchange. As Alistair moved to strike the queen, Rogan struck him in the back.
Alistair's eyes went wide as he slid to his knees. "But, it's not possible."
Rogan watched as he fell to the floor with his last words clinging to the open air between him and Adelaide.
"I was too weak. I couldn't do it," Adelaide whispered after a few moments, staring down at the floor.
Rogan shook his head. "You're stronger than you know."
Blue eyes met brown ones as the woman glanced up at him and gave a slight nod of thanks. A flash of emotion crossed her gaze, but he wrote it off as a trick of the light.
"King!" Dirk shouted as he entered into the room followed by a group of men. His eyes fell to the fallen lord. "You killed him? Rogan killed Alistair!"
The men cheered. Rogan raised a hand, silencing them. "The Queen slayed Alistair. Long live Queen Adelaide!"
Adelaide's lips parted in surprise at Rogan's claim. They knew the power and fame he had forfeited by giving her the credit for stopping the evil lord. She smiled at him and he smiled back, convinced that more than death and devastation could be born out of war.
Summoning more courage than was needed to fight a war, Rogan eliminated the distance between them and took her into his arms. He wasn't sure who kissed who first, but the eagerness of her mouth rivaled his own.
The men's cheers intensified.
-
White hot pain, caused him to stagger backwards and collide with one of his men who helped right him before he lost his balance completely.
He pulled himself upright once again and blinked several times, trying to piece reality back together.
Rogan was back in the temple before the queen, but he had seconds earlier been standing in Alistair's castle having defeated him and saved the kingdoms from his hand of cruelty.
Glancing around, he noticed Adelaide on the throne. She didn't appear surprised by his condition, rather, she was smiling.
Recalling the rumors of the temple, of how some within it had mastered the ability to prophecy and read thoughts, he stared at the woman as amazement, confusion, and fear all warred within him.
"How did you-...?" He shook his head. "We were-..."
But he couldn't remember what he had thought he had seen. Suddenly, he felt silly if not a bit insane.
Graciously, the queen waved her hand. "No matter. I was saying that I will sign the treaty. I believe you will do the best for our kingdoms."
The smile on her lips grew, as if she knew something he didn't.
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