The Kingdom of Anruin had just been conquered by Rothnia; The opposing Kingdom that’s been trying to take over your home for generations. They succeeded after years…

There was no other choice but to escape. As the final heir to Anruin, your only priority was to survive. Stoic, the loyal member of the Kingsguard, had to drag you away from the engulfing flames that were devouring your only home.

As the morning approached, Stoic stood by your side, his clothes smeared with ash and blood from defending you. We ventured through unfamiliar woods, heading towards the village of Warthford in search of refuge, while you grappled with the uncertainty of your future.

Stoic strode ahead, casting frequent glances over his shoulder to ensure you were following closely. Neither of you had spoken a word since escaping the palace until he finally broke the silence.

“We’re a long ways from Warthford, Your Highness.” Stoic’s voice is low and gruff, the way it’s always been. “We must hang on a little longer, Dove.”