The Crimson Dawn

Chapter 19

The gates of Solvanyr loomed ahead, towering above the group as they approached. The ornate metal bars were reinforced with intricate carvings of the kingdom’s history, a testament to its grandeur and strength.

As they neared, a group of guards stepped forward, weapons ready, their faces stern. The sudden movement startled the horses, which whinnied and shifted nervously.

“Hold!” one of the guards barked, his spear leveled toward the group.

Raphael immediately raised his hand, his tone calm but commanding. “We are The Crimson Dawn. We’ve been summoned by King Eryn.” He reached into his saddlebag and retrieved a sealed letter, handing it to the head guard.

The guard inspected the seal, his eyes narrowing. After a moment, he nodded and gestured for the others to lower their weapons. “You may enter. Welcome to Solvanyr.”

The gates creaked open, revealing the bustling heart of the city.

As they entered, the scale of the city unfolded before them. Solvanyr was massive, its streets alive with activity. Merchants hawked their wares, children darted between stalls, and the aroma of baked bread and spices filled the air. Towering spires and grand stone buildings lined the avenues, each more imposing than the last.

The group took it all in, their reactions varying. Ari’s sharp eyes flitted between the magical trinkets displayed in shop windows. Stella, ever watchful, kept a hand near her daggers, eyeing the crowded streets with suspicion. Barrett, wide-eyed, muttered something about the city being “too big to ever find the taverns.”

For Derick, however, the sight hit differently. Memories of his home—Zearax’s capital, Drevanholt—flooded his mind. Though Solvanyr’s design was different, its towering buildings and the lively hum of the streets reminded him of the city he had left behind. His jaw tightened as he pushed the thoughts away.

Their horses clattered to a stop in front of the castle gates, and stable hands quickly took the reins. The group dismounted, following a waiting servant who gestured for them to enter.

The castle’s interior was a marvel of craftsmanship. Polished marble floors reflected the light of countless chandeliers, and grand tapestries depicting ancient battles and alliances adorned the walls.

The servant led them through winding halls until they reached the great doors of the gathering chamber. “The lords and the king are waiting,” he said, bowing slightly before opening the massive doors.

The room was vast, with vaulted ceilings that seemed to stretch to the heavens. A long table dominated the center, surrounded by lords dressed in finery. Their voices were loud, shouting over one another in heated arguments.

The commotion ceased the moment the servant stepped inside and announced, “Presenting The Crimson Dawn!”

All eyes turned to the group as they entered. The lords scrutinized them, some whispering among themselves. A few eyes lingered on Stella, her striking beauty drawing murmurs from those not yet aware of her lethal skill.

The group moved forward with practiced grace, bowing low in unison before the king, who sat at the head of the table.

King Eryn rose from his throne. His presence was commanding, his dark hair streaked with silver, and his piercing green eyes swept over the group. “Welcome,” he said, his voice steady and deep. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. I’ve heard great things about you from Lord Alden of Taryndale.”

Raphael gave Aydin a subtle nod, ceding the moment to him.

Stepping forward, Aydin placed a hand on his chest and introduced himself formally, his voice steady and measured despite the weight of so many eyes. “I am Aydin Garett Starash, son of Gareth and Annie Starash. It is an honor to stand before you, Your Majesty.”

The king’s brow rose in recognition, his expression shifting to one of interest. “Ah… the banished lord of Rosmerta.”

The room fell silent, the weight of the words hanging heavily as Aydin met the king’s gaze, his face unreadable.

The tension in the great hall, the lords arguing amongst themselves grew as King Eryn slammed his fist on the table, silencing the bickering lords. “Queen Lily of Zearax has declared war on the world,” he said gravely, his voice echoing in the chamber. “She’s aligned herself with an ancient sorceress—one who wields magic that predates our kingdoms. Together, they are opening Fey Realm portals across the continent, threatening to plunge us all into chaos.”

The lords erupted again, voices overlapping in anger and fear. Some demanded immediate retaliation, while others argued for caution.

Derick stood at the back of the group, his head low, trying to remain inconspicuous. His hands clenched into fists, but he kept his face stoic. One older lord, sitting near the king, narrowed his eyes as he studied Derick. There was something familiar about him, but he said nothing—for now.

The king raised a hand, silencing the room once more. His gaze turned to The Crimson Dawn. “I summoned you because your reputation precedes you. Queen Lily must be stopped, and the sorceress must be destroyed. The fate of our continent—and perhaps the world—rests on this mission.”

The group exchanged glances, unspoken questions passing between them. Finally, Raphael stepped forward. “Your Majesty, The Crimson Dawn stands ready. We will do whatever is necessary to protect this world from such darkness.”

Aydin added, his tone measured, “If the queen has truly aligned herself with such power, we must act swiftly. But we will need information—on her forces, on the sorceress, and on the portals.”

The king nodded. “You will have it. My scouts have gathered what they can. The sorceress, known as Lysanna the Black, is a shadow from our history, a figure of nightmares. I fear she has not just joined Queen Lily, but is manipulating her.”

As the group gave their agreement—though with varying degrees of hesitation—the older lord watching Derick finally spoke. His voice cut through the room like a blade.

“Frederick Elrich of Zearax,” the man said, his words sharp and deliberate.

The room fell silent. Derick froze, his eyes narrowing as every head in the hall turned to look at him.

“You can’t hide from your name,” the older lord continued, rising to his feet. His weathered face was filled with a mix of recognition and accusation. “The prince who abandoned his kingdom. The true heir to Zearax. And, perhaps, the true reason for all of this.”

Derick’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable as he met the older man’s gaze.

“What are you talking about?” Stella asked.

The older lord gestured toward Derick. “The queen who now terrorizes the world—Lily—is his sister. And her hatred, her rise to power, began the day he vanished from her side. The throne of Zearax was meant for him, but instead, she took it—along with her thirst for vengeance.”

The silence in the hall grew heavier, the weight of the revelation pressing down on everyone.

“Is it true?” Aydin finally asked, his voice careful but firm.

Derick looked at them, his mask of indifference cracking. He took a step forward, his voice low and filled with bitterness. “Yes. Lily is my sister. I am Frederick Elrich of Zearax, the prince who abandoned his family. And if you think that makes me the reason for her madness, then you’re as blind as the rest of them.”

The older lord shook his head. “You ran from your duty. You left her to fend for herself, and now we all pay the price.”

Derick’s fists clenched. “You don’t know a damn thing about why I left, old man.”

“Then enlighten us,” Raphael said, his tone steady but his eyes sharp.

Derick glanced at the group—at Stella, Gedeon, Aydin, and the others. For the first time, he looked uncertain. “Not here. Not now,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

The king broke the silence that followed. “Whether or not you bear the blame, Frederick, your knowledge of Lily and Zearax could be crucial. If you’re willing to set aside your grievances, I ask you to help us end this war.”

Derick hesitated, his eyes shadowed with memories. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll help. But don’t expect me to forgive, forget, or fall in line.”

The room buzzed with tension as the lords exchanged glances. The group, now grappling with this new information, stood together, unified yet shaken.

Aydin stepped forward, addressing the king. “We will carry out the mission, Your Majesty. But it seems we have more to discuss among ourselves before we proceed.”

The king nodded gravely. “Do what you must. But the sooner we act, the better. Solvanyr will provide you with any resources you need.”

The Crimson Dawn bowed once more before turning to leave the hall, the weight of Derick’s revelation heavy on their shoulders.