Previously~
Within the Church, the Cardinal remained seated, his eyes watching the procession through the tall windows that frad the view. His lips curled into a satisfied, almost imperceptible smile. The plan was set in motion. The Duchies would soon be thrown into chaos, and with the power of the Templars at his back, the Cardinal would move one step closer to his ultimate goal: total control over the Empire.
The fate of the heretics was sealed. And there would be no rcy for those who stood against the divine will of Aerithar.
—----------------------------------------------------
Date- 30th, Month of Frostborn, 2012 A.G.
Location – Rugard Palace, Leonhart Duchy
The cold wind swept through the empty halls of the palace like a whisper of the storm to co. Sophie stood in the study, the fire crackling low behind her. The scent of wax and parchnt hung in the air. Alexander was gone. Only the weight of his departure remained.
She stared at the desk—his desk. Left almost too neatly. Nothing out of place, except...
A corner of a hidden drawer was slightly ajar. Odd. Alexander never left things undone.
With hesitant fingers, she pulled it open.
Inside lay a collection of sealed letters. So addressed to dukes. Others... to the emperor himself. But one bore her na, hastily written, as if he'd decided to leave it at the very last mont.
Her hands trembled as she broke the seal.
"Sophie,
If you are reading this, it ans I've already left. I wanted to spare you this, but I know how sharp your intuition is.
The truth I uncovered... it changes everything. The Church's grip runs deeper than we feared.
They're not just plotting against us—they're using relics. Ancient, forbidden powers buried beneath Duskrane, and they plan to awaken them. Edward suspected it, and I've confird it. That's why he acted the way he did.
Don't trust the Emperor. Don't trust the silence in the capital.
Watch over the children. Be ready.
—Alexander"
Sophie sank into the chair, the letter slipping from her fingers. A chill crawled up her spine.
Relics? Awakening sothing ancient? And Alexander had known... all this ti?
Her fingers gripped the arms of the chair tightly. He had tried to protect her. Shield her from the storm. But he had also lied.
And now he walked straight into the lion's den.
She rose, brushing away the sting of betrayal. Her duty was clear now. If Alexander faced danger in the capital, she would make sure that here, their enemies would find no easy prey.
She rang a bell.
A maid appeared promptly. "Yes, Duchess?"
"Send for Seradin. Tell him I want every letter the church has sent us over the past year. Every ssenger's na. Every sigil. Then summon the house guard commander. We are to begin new patrol rotations, effective imdiately."
The maid bowed and ran off.
Sophie stared out the window toward the distant horizon. Her voice was calm. Cold.
"If they want to bring war to our lands... they'll find the lioness ready."
A few days later-
Location- Rugard Palace, Leonhart Duchy
Date- 3rd, Month of Zephyris, 2012 A.G.
A knock echoed through the quiet of Sophie's study.
The candlelight flickered as she sat amidst scattered parchnts, half-read letters, and a map of the duchy marked with pins and notes. For days, she'd buried herself in the work—ergency plans, intercepted ssages, and every docunt bearing the Church's cursed sigil.
Without looking up, she replied softly, "Enter."
CREAK.
The door opened slowly. Leonatus stepped inside, his small hand tightly clutching his sister's. Elise peeked out from behind him, her usual curiosity dulled by hesitation. The children looked unsure, caught between innocence and the storm they sensed brewing.
Sophie finally raised her gaze. Her tired eyes softened at the sight of them.
She sighed, setting down her quill. A faint twitch of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, though it faltered quickly.
"Co here," she said gently.
Leon stepped forward, guiding Elise with quiet determination. He was trying to be strong, to be the little lion Alexander always said he was. Elise followed, clutching the hem of her brother's shirt.
"Is Father going to war?" Leon asked, his voice small but steady.
Sophie blinked. She didn't answer right away. Instead, she reached out and pulled them both into a hug. Her arms wrapped tightly around them, grounding herself in the warmth of their presence.
Elise mumbled into her shoulder, "Everyone's talking about soldiers and monsters. And you're always reading scary papers."
Sophie's throat tightened. She had hoped to shield them longer.
"Your father has gone to speak with the Emperor," she said, her voice calm, careful. "And yes, there are things happening—things we must be brave for. But he's strong. You know that, don't you?"
Leon nodded slowly. "Stronger than anyone."
Sophie looked into his eyes, sothing flickering behind her composed exterior.
"That's why he left you in charge here," she added, brushing his hair back. "To protect us while he's away."
His small chest puffed up just a bit, pride battling with fear.
She smiled softly and placed a hand over his heart.
"I know this is frightening, my loves. But I promise you—we will stand tall. Just like your father. And when the ti cos... we will not run. Not ever."
Elise sniffled but nodded, her arms wrapping tighter around Sophie.
A knock ca again—this one firr.
"Duchess," ca Seradin's voice from behind the door. "We've received new intelligence."
Sophie closed her eyes briefly, then kissed both her children on the forehead.
"Go now. Leon—watch over your sister."
"Yes, mother."
As the children left, Sophie turned her gaze back toward the docunts on her desk. The warmth of their presence lingered—but so did the icy weight of what she now knew.
"Enter," she called again.
Seradin stepped inside, the sunlight catching the dull gleam of his pauldrons. His steps were asured, composed—but the look in his eyes told her sothing was off.
"The Templars have arrived at our warp stations," he announced.
Sophie raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"They've requested permission to use them."
She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing. "How many? Where are they headed?"
Seradin hesitated—never a good sign.
"To the borders of Duskrane County."
Sophie flinched. Her breath caught, just briefly. The pieces began clicking into place.
They're not here to fight Leonhart... They want our cooperation. Our warp gates.
So the Ashen Church wasn't marching to confront her duchy. They ca expecting help—no, demanding it.
She turned toward Seradin, her voice cool and deliberate. "I need to et their commander."
Seradin gave a curt nod. "He's waiting in the lounge."
As they made their way through the stone corridors of Rugard Palace, a creeping unease settled over Sophie. She had been preparing for war, for conflict—but this felt different. Sothing about it was wrong. Too quiet. Too smooth. Too staged.
She stopped before the tall double doors of the lounge. The golden handles shimred in the sunlight pouring through the hall's stained glass. With a small exhale, she pushed them open.
Inside, a man stood near the hearth. The late afternoon light caught the edges of his pale skin, glinting across the elaborate golden armor that clung to his lean fra. He turned slowly, and bowed with practiced grace.
"I, Christian Classon, greet Duchess Leonhart," he said, voice warm but laced with condescension.
Sophie gestured wordlessly to the chair opposite her. "Sit."
He obeyed, folding himself onto the lounge seat with polished ease. Seradin remained standing, just behind her shoulder.
Sophie's gaze was sharp, her tone dispassionate. "Why would a Lord Marshal of the Ashen Church co all the way to Leonhart? What does your institution need from us?"
Christian let out a low, casual laugh. "Fear not, Duchess. We co not to demand, but to humbly request your aid in a noble cause."
She snorted, unimpressed. "A noble cause, you say? What is this 'nobility' that brings an army to my doorstep?"
Christian leaned forward, fingers laced, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth like a salesman closing a deal.
"Our cause, dear Duchess, is the purification of this land. We seek to purge evil wherever it festers."
Sophie's voice remained flat. "What evil?"
"The Duskranes," he replied, almost spitting the word. "Heretics. Fanatics. A vile cult that clings to forbidden knowledge and blasphemy. They are an infection that must be cleansed. For the good of all."
Sophie's jaw tightened. Beneath the table, her nails dug into her palm.
How dare he say that to my face.
Still, she forced a smile—thin, brittle.
"Heretics?" she echoed. "Interesting. Because if I recall correctly, both Leonhart and Tigranclaw were once deed heretical by your council, were we not?"
Christian flinched. It was subtle, but not subtle enough.
"Perhaps," he admitted, "but the emperor himself has decreed otherwise. Your duchies are... not evil. Just misguided."
Sophie let out a hollow laugh, cold and sharp.
"Misguided, you say? That's awfully generous of you. And yet, despite that, you seek our help. From misguided hands?"
Christian's eyes darkened. The mask of pleasant civility began to crack.
"You should be honored to assist in this cause. The light of Aerithar shines even on those who have strayed."
"And what exactly do you expect us to do?" Sophie asked, leaning back in her chair. "Open our gates? Bend our knees? Watch silently as you slaughter civilians in the na of your 'divine' purge?"
Christian stood abruptly.
CLINK!
Steel flashed.
In the sa instant, Seradin drew his blade—his sword now hovered just a breath from Christian's throat. His eyes never left the Lord Marshal's.
The tension in the room beca suffocating. A single breath could snap it.
Christian did not move. His hands remained open, though his expression had darkened with unveiled contempt.
"You dare draw a blade on a servant of the Ashen?" he hissed.
"I dare protect my lady from threats in her own ho," Seradin replied coldly.
Sophie rose, the air around her sharp as broken glass. "Stand down, Seradin."
The blade lowered, but Seradin didn't sheath it. He remained alert.
Christian exhaled, adjusting his collar with a quiet scoff. "You will regret this defiance, Duchess."
Sophie stepped forward, her voice now ice and fire.
"Let make sothing clear, Lord Marshal. Leonhart is not your puppet. We are not blinded by your twisted interpretation of holiness. You call Duskrane an infection, but what I see is a sickness that has already spread deep into the Church's marrow. You wear gold, but all I see is blood."
Christian's eye twitched.
Sophie didn't stop.
"If you think we'll hand you the ans to butcher those people—won, children, and innocents—you are gravely mistaken."
There was a long silence.
Finally, Christian gave a low bow, more mockery than courtesy.
"Very well, Duchess. But rember... there is no light for those who stand against Aerithar."
With that, he turned on his heel and marched from the room, his boots echoing down the corridor.
"Mr. Marshal.." Sophie called out.
Christian turned.
"We are lions, we do not fear hypocrites... Whether you ask for help or wage war we won't step down."
"Tch!"
When the doors slamd shut, Sophie finally exhaled. Her shoulders sagged—not from weakness, but from the weight of restraint.
She turned to Seradin. "Send a hawk to Alexander. He needs to know. Now."
Seradin gave a tight nod.
Sophie looked toward the window. The horizon glowed in fading amber, but to her, the shadows only deepened.
If the Church wanted war... they just declared it.
SKREEEEE!
The sharp cry of a hawk pierced the air, cutting through the heavy silence like a blade. Monts later, a shadow passed over the window as talons scratched against the stone ledge.
Sophie quickly unwrapped the letter tied to the hawk's feet.
Furrowing her brows she read through the parchnt. She motioned to Seradin.
"Seradin, tell the Lord Marshal that we agree to provide support, also... tell Elsa to ready my battle gear."
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