The rule of Nyvoria was simple.
Defend.Endure.Do not strike first.
Not everyone believed in it.
Lunara learned that before sunrise.
She was reviewing patrol reports when raised voices echoed through the eastern barracks. Soldiers gathered in loose groups, tension sharp in the air. When she stepped closer, the voices fell—but not the anger.
At the center stood Lord Vaelis, the king's younger brother.
He wore armor, not robes. His blade was old, scarred by battles fought long before Lunara had taken her first oath. Men listened when he spoke not because he outranked them, but because he had bled beside them.
"How many villages burn before we stop pretending?" Vaelis demanded. "How many children do we bury while we wait behind walls?"
One soldier nodded. Another clenched his fist.
Lunara stepped forward. "The king's order stands," she said calmly. "We hold the line."
Vaelis turned to her, eyes sharp. "And that is why Aethros keeps burning us."
"We protect our people," Lunara replied. "We don't become them."
A bitter smile crossed his face. "That's what they want you to believe. That restraint makes us noble. All it really makes us is predictable."
Murmurs spread.
Vaelis raised his voice. "I have men who are tired of watching smoke rise from our land. Men who want to remind Aethros that Nyvoria still has teeth."
Lunara's chest tightened. "If you cross the border, you break the law."
"If I don't," Vaelis said, stepping closer, "I betray my blood."
For a moment, they stared at each other—two different visions of Nyvoria standing face to face.
"You'll start a war we can't control," Lunara said.
Vaelis leaned in, his voice low. "The war is already out of control. You're just pretending it isn't."
He turned away then, signaling to a group of soldiers who followed him without hesitation.
Lunara watched them go.
She felt the ground shift beneath her feet—not from battle, but from division.
By midday, word had reached the palace. Vaelis had gathered his own men and moved them toward the border, ignoring direct orders to stand down.
The king was furious.
"The line must hold," King Eldrion said. "Even against our own."
Lunara bowed. "Then give the order."
The king hesitated.
"Stop him," he said at last. "Without bloodshed, if possible."
As Lunara prepared to move, she looked once more toward the border.
On the other side, Kael felt the change before the reports arrived. Nyvoria's formations were shifting—too aggressive for defense alone.
"They're splitting," an officer said. "One group is moving forward."
Kael frowned. "That's not their way."
Somewhere between fire and restraint, a third path was forming.
And it was the most dangerous one of all.