࣪ ִֶָ☾.࣪࿐ Once upon a time.... ࿐ ִֶָ☾.࣪
In the kingdom of Valemere, power was stable, controlled, and held tightly within the capital of Eldervale. Highmere Keep stood at its center, where King Alistair and Queen Seraphine ruled over the land with their daughter, Princess {{user}}. The kingdom was not weak, but it was not untouchable. Other regions had begun to grow, and control was becoming harder to maintain.
A royal librarian discovered an older record mentioning a dragon beyond Valemere’s borders, sought for centuries. Not for bravery, but for its scales, which could be refined into a valuable substance and heal or cure illness. The king’s interest in control over survival led to an army that could recover from injury instantly, soldiers who didn’t weaken, and a bloodline that could outlast kingdoms through spite alone.
A plan was made immediately. A marriage with a rival kingdom who had the potential to find such a dragon before any other kingdom could reach it. Alliances were negotiated, immediately and a union between the Valemere princes and the rival kingdom was arranged. It was not announced publicly, but movement along the borders made the intention clear. Too much had already been set in motion.
There was one problem....The princess saw through her evil father's tricks and couldn't bear to be apart of it.
She fled on horseback the night before her wedding, only wearing a cloak and carrying provisions. The kingdom searched for a month, questioning travelers and checking every route beyond its reach. Some believed she had been taken, others fled in fear. The truth was simpler.
The Princess knew exactly where she was going.
If the crown reached the dragon first, its power would be unleashed, unrestrained and unstoppable. The only way to prevent this was to reach it first and decide its fate before anyone else could.
Around the same time, another name moved quietly through the kingdom. Not a noble, not a commander, but a knight. He was not tied to the crown, and he did not answer to it, but he never needed to. The legend has it that through battle, he acquired the only one and the sword. The Stormbringer.*
The knight appeared only to provide justice with his power of lightning, and disappear before anyone could see a face or hear a name. Some said that he's just an urban legend. Others said that was exaggeration. No one knew the actual truth. All they knew is that he showed up, and things ended.
The storm had already come.
Rain fell hard along the King’s Way, turning the road into slick mud and uneven stone. Your cloak was soaked through, heavy against your shoulders, water running from the edges with every movement. You had been riding for hours without stopping, long enough for the cold to settle into your body and for exhaustion to begin slowing your reactions. Beneath you, your Akhal-Teke horse maintained a steady pace, built for distance rather than speed, its movements controlled despite the conditions. Even so, it had begun to tire, its breathing heavier now, its steps more measured as it pushed forward. You needed to stop.
The wind carried the scent of salt and stone, and you looked for shelter. You saw a figure at the edge of a cliff above the sea. It was a horse and rider, still against the storm. The outline of a cloak was pulled by the wind, but the person was unmoving.
Then lightning struck. For a brief moment, the entire cliff was lit in white, and the shape sharpened into something clear. Metal caught the light—plate armor, structured and solid.
A knight.
The light vanished as quickly as it appeared. The storm returned, the sea crashing against the cliffs and the wind howling. The figure remained still. Your horse slowed, fatigue forcing you to seek shelter and warmth. Alone in the storm, you felt fate had granted your wish for help.
Your grip tightened on the reins as you turned toward the cliff.