Three days after Hilga’s public blessing in the central square, a royal ssenger arrived at the Castros estate before the sun had fully cleared the eastern wall.
The man wore the king’s crimson and gold tabard, a heavy chain of office around his neck, and the kind of exhausted expression that only cos from riding through the night without rest. He dismounted in the courtyard, boots crunching on fresh gravel, and bowed low when Egon, Vienna, Noella, and Hilga erged from the main doors to et him.
"Lady Hilga of Castros," he said, voice hoarse but formal. "Hero of Dolan City. His Majesty King Aldric IV sends urgent summons. The border duchies of Valenwood and Ironcrag are under siege. Rifts have opened along the northern frontier. Orc legions pour through, backed by ogre warbands and at least two confird wyvern flights. The duchies cannot hold another week."
Hilga stood very still. The white gown she had worn for the procession had been replaced by practical traveling leathers dyed pale silver—simple, unadorned, yet sohow regal on her. The golden aura that had once clung to her constantly had faded to a soft, steady glow around her hands and eyes.
She looked at Egon first.
He gave no outward reaction, but she felt the slight tightening of his fingers against her lower back.
Vienna stepped forward, voice calm but edged.
"The king requests the Hero personally?"
The ssenger nodded. "The royal decree is clear. Lady Hilga is to travel north at once, rally the border garrisons, and seal the rifts before the main demon host arrives. The Crown offers any resource—troops, mages, supplies, royal escort. But the request is for her presence."
Noella folded her arms. "And if she refuses?"
The ssenger’s eyes flicked to her, then back to Hilga. "Then the duchies fall. And the rifts spread south. Toward Dolan. Toward the capital."
Hilga closed her eyes for one long breath.
When she opened them again, her lavender gaze was steady.
"I will go."
Vienna’s jaw tightened.
Noella exhaled sharply through her nose.
Egon spoke quietly, only loud enough for the four of them.
"You don’t have to answer today. We can delay. Send word that the Hero needs ti to recover from the Guardian fight."
Hilga shook her head once.
"They don’t have ti. The people in Valenwood and Ironcrag don’t have ti. If I wait, thousands more will die."
She turned to the ssenger.
"Tell His Majesty I depart at dawn tomorrow. I will bring my own escort. No royal troops are necessary."
The ssenger bowed deeply.
"His Majesty will be inford at once. May the Light guide your blade, Hero."
He mounted and rode out without another word.
Silence settled over the courtyard.
Vienna spoke first, voice low.
"You’re leaving. Just like that."
Hilga turned to her.
"I have to."
Noella stepped closer, arms still crossed but eyes softer than usual.
"You just beca the Hero three days ago. The city is still celebrating. The people need to see you here. They need to believe the worst is over."
Hilga’s smile was small and sad.
"The worst isn’t over. It’s only beginning. The rifts won’t stop at the border. If Valenwood falls, the next duchy is ours. Then the capital. I can’t stand on a platform waving while villages burn."
Egon finally spoke.
"How many do you want with you?"
Hilga looked at him.
"Krag, Mara, and six of the strongest slaves. The rest stay here to protect the estate and the city. I trust them with your lives."
Vienna reached out and took Hilga’s hand.
"And us? What do we do while you’re gone?"
Hilga squeezed her fingers.
"Keep the Flower Garden running. Keep the people hopeful. Keep each other safe. And..."
She glanced at Egon.
"Keep him from doing anything reckless."
Noella snorted softly.
"That’s a full-ti job."
Hilga stepped forward and embraced Vienna first—tight, lingering—then Noella. When she pulled back, her eyes were bright.
"I’ll co ho," she said. "I promise."
Vienna’s voice cracked slightly.
"You’d better."
Noella brushed a silver strand from Hilga’s cheek.
"Bring that sword back bloody. And yourself in one piece."
Hilga nodded.
Then she turned to Egon.
He didn’t speak at first. He simply pulled her into his arms—hard, possessive—and kissed her forehead.
When he released her, his voice was low.
"You carry the light now. Don’t let it burn you out. And rember—you’re not just the Hero. You’re ours."
Hilga’s throat worked.
"I rember."
She stepped back.
"I need to prepare. Armor, supplies, blessings from the priests. I’ll see you at dawn."
She walked away toward the armory wing.
Vienna watched her go.
"She’s really doing this."
Noella slipped her hand into Vienna’s.
"She is."
Egon stared after Hilga until she disappeared around the corner.
Then he looked at his wives.
"We protect the city while she’s gone. We keep the business growing. We keep Veyle distracted. And we wait."
Vienna nodded slowly.
"And when she cos back?"
Egon’s smile was small, fierce.
"We welco her ho. Properly."
They returned to the main hall together.
The rest of the day passed in quiet preparation.
Hilga spent the afternoon in the small chapel attached to the estate, kneeling before the altar while priests anointed her armor and blade with holy oils. She erged at dusk, silver hair braided tightly, armor gleaming, Excalibur sheathed across her back. The golden aura had returned—brighter now, steadier.
Egon, Vienna, and Noella waited in the courtyard at first light.
Hilga approached on foot, leading a single packhorse loaded with supplies. Krag, Mara, and six combat slaves stood behind her in full gear.
Hilga stopped in front of them.
"I’ll send word when I can," she said. "Carrier birds, trusted couriers. Whatever reaches you fastest."
Vienna stepped forward first, pressing a small velvet pouch into Hilga’s hand.
"Starbloom essence. Seline made it special. Protection against rift miasma."
Hilga closed her fingers around it.
"Thank you, Mistress."
Noella handed her a thin black scarf.
"Shadow weave. Blocks scrying. Wear it when you sleep in the open."
Hilga tied it around her neck.
"I will."
Egon stepped last.
He didn’t give her anything physical.
Instead he cupped her face with both hands and kissed her—slow, deep, claiming.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers.
"Co ho," he said quietly.
Hilga’s eyes shimred.
"I will, Master."
She stepped back.
Krag saluted sharply.
"We’re ready, my lord."
Egon nodded.
"Keep her safe. All of you."
The group mounted—Hilga on a sturdy gray mare, the others on war-trained destriers.
Hilga looked back one final ti.
Vienna raised her hand in farewell.
Noella blew a kiss.
Egon simply watched.
Hilga smiled—small, brave—and turned her horse north.
They rode out through the main gate.
The city was waking. People lined the streets—word had spread overnight. They cheered as Hilga passed, throwing flowers, reaching out to touch her stirrups.
"Hilga! Hero of Light!"
"Protect us!"
"Bless us!"
Hilga lifted her hand once—graceful, steady—then urged her mount into a canter.
The small party disappeared down the northern road.
Vienna leaned against Egon’s shoulder.
"She’ll be fine."
Noella slipped her hand into his.
"She has to be."
Egon stared after them long after they were gone.
Then he turned back toward the estate.
"Co on," he said quietly. "We have work to do."
The war wasn’t over.
The Hero had left to fight it.
And the rest of them would hold the ho she left behind.
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