Chapter 6 - The First Strike
The air in the capital crackled with a tension that even the most oblivious noble could no longer ignore. Whispers of war, once confined to the shadowed corners of the Academy and hushed conversations in the Royal Palace, now echoed through the city's grand avenues, carried on every gust of wind. The incident at Oakhaven, the brutal razing of a peaceful village, had been the final, undeniable declaration. Vorlag's intentions were clear, brutal, and undeniable, and the Kingdom, finally shedding its complacency, was mobilizing its considerable might.
For Kaelen, the shift was palpable, a chilling echo of the past he had fought so hard to change. His subtle nudges and warnings over the past two years, often dismissed as youthful overzealousness or uncanny intuition, had borne undeniable fruit. Baron Theron, his father, had transformed Eldoria from a prosperous but somewhat relaxed barony into a prepared bastion, its defenses strengthened, its people drilled, its granaries overflowing. His brother Gareth, now a formidable A-rank knight, his aura a vibrant, steady green, commanded a new, highly trained unit of Eldorian warriors, their movements sharp, their discipline absolute. His sister Lyra, her Aura now a strong B-rank and her mana manipulation skills honed to a fine edge, was working tirelessly with the Royal Court's most senior mages, developing countermeasures against large-scale arcane attacks, her brilliant mind racing against time. The pieces were in place, meticulously arranged by Kaelen's foresight, but whether they would be enough remained a terrifying unknown.
The summons came on a crisp autumn morning, delivered by a solemn Royal Guard to Kaelen's dorm, its seal bearing the royal crest. It was from Princess Aurelia, requesting his presence, and that of "The Silent Blades," at the Royal War Council. This was it. The opening he had been waiting for, the direct path to influence the kingdom's fate, a chance to truly rewrite history.
He gathered Seraphina, Borin, and Lyra Whisperwind in their usual meeting spot, a secluded corner of the Academy's vast library, amidst towering shelves of ancient knowledge. Their faces were grim, reflecting the gravity of the situation, the unspoken understanding that their lives, and the lives of millions, were about to change.
"The Princess has called us to the War Council," Kaelen stated, his voice low and steady, devoid of his usual dry wit, conveying the immense weight of the moment. "It means the King is ready to act. And he needs us. Not just as Academy students, but as the unit we've become."
Seraphina's eyes, usually alight with mischievous fire, were now serious, reflecting the flickering candlelight. She clenched her fists, a faint crackle of mana around them. "Finally. I'm tired of just training, Kaelen. Tired of hypothetical monsters. Let's show Vorlag what real magic looks like when it's unleashed with purpose." Her eagerness was a raw, almost desperate thing.
Borin gripped the hilt of his practice axe, his knuckles white. His massive frame seemed to hum with contained power. "My shield is ready. My ancestors' strength flows through me. Let them come. They'll break against us, just like every dungeon monster has." His usual boisterousness was replaced by a quiet, unwavering resolve.
Lyra Whisperwind, ever observant, her elven eyes piercing, looked directly at Kaelen, seeing past his calm facade. "You knew this was coming, didn't you, Kaelen? All of it. The raids, the escalation… it was all part of your 'premonition,' wasn't it?" Her voice was soft, but carried an undeniable weight of understanding.
Kaelen met her gaze, a flicker of his past life's burden in his eyes, a momentary glimpse into the abyss he carried within. "I had a strong premonition, Lyra. And I prepared for it. For all of us." He didn't elaborate, and she didn't press. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a quiet acceptance of his unique insights, a trust forged in countless dangerous delves. They knew he saw things, things they couldn't, and they trusted his judgment implicitly.
The Royal War Council was held in a massive, circular chamber deep within the palace, a place of immense power and ancient tradition. Its walls were adorned with towering tapestries depicting ancient victories, legendary heroes, and the founding of the kingdom, their colors muted by age but their stories still vibrant. The air was thick with the scent of parchment, polished wood, and the subtle, almost oppressive hum of powerful Auras emanating from the gathered dignitaries. Arrayed around a large, magically illuminated holographic map of the kingdom were the most influential figures of the realm: King Theron II, a stern but just ruler, his face etched with the weight of his crown; General Valerius, Kaelen's father, his presence commanding, a pillar of Eldorian strength; the Grand Archmage, a wizened old man whose Aura pulsed with ancient, almost terrifying power, his eyes like pools of starlight; and various other generals, nobles, and strategists, their faces a mixture of concern, determination, and grim resignation.
Princess Aurelia stood beside her father, the King, her usual playful demeanor replaced by an air of serious regality that truly befitted her station. She wore a simple, yet elegant, gown of deep crimson, a color of war and passion. She nodded to Kaelen and his team as they entered, her gaze acknowledging their presence, guiding them with a subtle gesture to a smaller, less prominent table at the edge of the council. Kaelen noticed his brother, Gareth, and sister, Lyra, already present, seated with their respective military and magical delegations, their eyes meeting his with a shared sense of purpose, a silent acknowledgment of the storm gathering.
King Theron II, a man of imposing stature, his voice resonating through the chamber with the weight of his authority, cleared his throat. "My lords, ladies, we stand at a precipice. Vorlag's aggression has escalated beyond mere border disputes. The razing of Oakhaven is an act of war, a blatant challenge to our sovereignty. We can no longer stand idly by. The time for diplomacy has passed. The time for action is upon us."
A murmur went through the council, a mix of agreement and apprehension. The Grand Archmage spoke, his voice raspy with age but sharp with wisdom. "Their magical capabilities are significant, Your Majesty. Our scouts report an increase in their battle mages' activity. They are known for devastating area-of-effect spells and powerful siege enchantments, capable of crumbling even reinforced walls."
General Valerius, Kaelen's father, stepped forward, his posture ramrod straight, his aura a solid blue. "Our Eldorian forces are prepared, Your Majesty. We have strengthened our defenses, trained our men in new, efficient combat methods, and secured our supply lines. We will hold the border, as we always have." His voice was firm, resolute, instilling a measure of confidence in the room.
Kaelen listened intently, his mind already working, filtering the information through the lens of his past. He knew the general strategy Vorlag would employ: a massive frontal assault to draw attention and tie up the main Eldorian forces, while a smaller, elite force, led by the enemy commander, would attempt to bypass defenses through the northern valleys, utilizing hidden paths and relying on speed and surprise, aiming for a quick, decapitating strike at the heart of the kingdom – the capital itself. He also knew about the devastating magic circles that would be deployed, the very ones that had annihilated his previous army.
Princess Aurelia then spoke, her voice clear and strong, cutting through the murmurs, drawing all eyes to her. "Your Majesty, if I may. While our main forces are vital, and our border defenses are stronger than ever, I believe we also need a specialized unit. One capable of operating with discretion, striking at critical points, and disrupting enemy operations behind their lines. A unit that has proven its unique capabilities in the Academy's most challenging environments, a unit that can adapt and overcome the unforeseen." She gestured towards Kaelen and his team, drawing the council's attention to them. "I speak of 'The Silent Blades.'"
A ripple of surprise went through the council. Many of the older generals scoffed openly, their expressions dismissive, muttering about youthful arrogance. "Princess, with all due respect," a portly general with a booming voice interjected, his face red, "these are mere students! This is war, not a dungeon delve! We need seasoned warriors, not children playing at heroes!"
Aurelia's eyes flashed, her regal bearing unwavering, a cold fire in their depths. She met the general's gaze directly. "These 'students,' General, have cleared the Sunken Catacombs faster and more efficiently than many veteran A-rank teams. Kaelen Valerius, despite his youth, possesses a tactical mind that rivals any here, a mind that sees patterns and vulnerabilities others miss. Seraphina is a mage of immense destructive potential, capable of turning entire formations to ash. Borin is an unbreakable shield, a living fortress against any assault. And Lyra Whisperwind's archery and tracking skills are unparalleled, her arrows finding targets no human eye can perceive. They are not merely students; they are a highly effective, specialized unit, capable of tasks others cannot accomplish, tasks that our traditional forces are not equipped for. Their B-rank status, particularly Kaelen's, is a testament to years of rigorous, focused training, not a mere academic title. It signifies a level of skill that few achieve, especially at their age." Her defense was passionate, unwavering, silencing the general.
The King listened, his gaze fixed on Kaelen, a thoughtful expression on his face. He had heard the whispers, seen the reports of "The Silent Blades'" exploits. "Kaelen Valerius. Your reputation precedes you. What is your assessment of Vorlag's likely strategy? Be frank."
Kaelen stepped forward, his heart pounding a steady rhythm against his ribs, but his voice calm and authoritative, drawing on a decade of grim experience that no one else in the room could comprehend. "Your Majesty, while their main force will undoubtedly press the border, aiming to draw our attention and resources, I believe their true objective will be a swift, decisive strike at the capital. They will likely employ a smaller, elite force, led by their most cunning commander, attempting to bypass our main defenses through the northern valleys, utilizing hidden paths and relying on speed and surprise. Furthermore, their battle mages are highly skilled in large-scale magical formations, particularly mana-draining and destructive circles, designed to cripple our forces and leave our Aura Knights vulnerable."
A hush fell over the council, heavier than before. Kaelen's assessment, delivered with such chilling precision, resonated with the fragmented intelligence they had been gathering, but presented with an unnerving clarity, as if he had witnessed it himself.
"Mana-draining circles?" the Grand Archmage murmured, his eyes widening with alarm, his ancient aura flickering with unease. "That is a dangerous capability. A truly devastating one, if deployed effectively."
"Indeed," Kaelen affirmed, meeting the Archmage's gaze. "My sister, Lyra Valerius, has been researching countermeasures for precisely this threat. With her expertise and the proper resources, we believe we can develop a localized mana-nullification field, capable of disrupting such formations."
His sister Lyra, though surprised by being brought into the spotlight, stepped forward, her gentle demeanor belying the fierce intellect within. She nodded firmly. "The theory is sound, Your Majesty. It would require powerful anchor runes and a coordinated effort from several mages, channeling their Aura in a precise manner, but it is achievable. We have made significant progress in our research."
The King leaned back, his expression thoughtful, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of his throne. "A bold assessment, Kaelen Valerius. And a bold proposal. What would you require to execute this vanguard mission?"
"My team, 'The Silent Blades,' to operate as a vanguard," Kaelen stated, his voice unwavering. "We will scout the northern valleys, confirm the enemy's flanking maneuver, and, if possible, disrupt their magical preparations before they can be fully deployed. We can also provide crucial, real-time intelligence on their movements and composition, allowing our main forces to react with precision."
General Valerius, Kaelen's father, stepped forward, his gaze meeting Kaelen's with a silent acknowledgment of trust and respect. "I will lead the main Eldorian forces to meet their primary assault at the border, Your Majesty. Gareth will lead a detachment to reinforce the northern outposts, to counter any flanking attempts and hold them until Kaelen's team can act."
The King nodded, a decisive look on his face. "Very well. General Valerius, prepare your forces. Gareth Valerius, you will secure the northern approaches. Grand Archmage, provide Lyra Valerius with all the resources she requires for her research, and assign her a team of the Academy's most promising mana-channelers. And Kaelen Valerius," the King's gaze settled on him, a heavy weight of expectation, "you and 'The Silent Blades' will be my eyes and ears in the north. Your mission is critical. The fate of Eldoria may well rest upon your shoulders. Do not fail."
"We will not fail, Your Majesty," Kaelen replied, his voice firm, a silent vow echoing in his heart, a promise made to the ghosts of his past and the hope of his future.
The War Council concluded with a grim determination. The capital, once a place of academic pursuits and social gatherings, now transformed into a war machine, its gears grinding into motion. Students, even those not directly involved in combat, were assigned roles: healers to prepare the infirmaries, logistics teams to manage supplies, messengers to carry vital information. The Academy, usually a sanctuary of learning, became a training ground for survival, its halls echoing with the sounds of preparation.
Kaelen and his team immediately began their final preparations. They gathered specialized equipment from the Academy's armory – lightweight, durable armor, enchanted rations, communication crystals. They reviewed maps of the northern territories, memorizing every contour, every hidden path, every potential ambush point. They honed their skills to a razor's edge in intense, focused drills. Seraphina practiced her most destructive spells, focusing on speed and efficiency. Borin reinforced his armor with additional enchantments, his shield gleaming, ready for impact. Lyra Whisperwind meticulously checked her bow and arrows, crafting specialized fletching for silent flight and coating arrowheads with potent, fast-acting poisons.
Lyra Whisperwind approached Kaelen one evening, as they were packing their gear in the quiet of his dorm room, the only sound the rustle of fabric and the soft clink of metal. "Kaelen," she began, her voice soft, barely a whisper, "you spoke of a premonition. Is it… about this war? About what will happen?"
Kaelen paused, his hands still over a rolled map. He looked at her, her calm, perceptive eyes, seeing the genuine concern there. He still couldn't tell her everything, the full, horrifying truth of his regression, but he could share a fraction of the burden, a glimpse into the darkness he carried. "Yes, Lyra. I've seen… glimpses. Of what could happen. Of what must be prevented. It is why I have pushed us all so hard. Why I have sought these alliances."
She nodded slowly, a deep understanding in her gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the immense weight on his shoulders. "That is a heavy burden to carry alone, Kaelen. But you are not alone. Not anymore. We are with you. The Silent Blades. And your family. We will fight with you. To the last breath."
Kaelen felt a surge of warmth, a profound gratitude that pierced through the cold dread that usually enveloped him. He had spent a lifetime alone in his previous iteration, burdened by guilt, fighting a solitary, losing battle. This time, he had allies, friends, family – a true family, bound by choice as much as by blood. This time, it would be different. This time, he had a chance.
The night before their departure, Princess Aurelia sought Kaelen out in the Academy's courtyard, the moonlight casting long, ethereal shadows across the ancient stones. She was no longer the playful princess, but a solemn, regal figure, her beauty tinged with a quiet worry.
"Kaelen," she said, her voice quiet, almost a plea. "Be careful. My father relies on you. The kingdom relies on you. And… I rely on you." Her eyes met his, a vulnerability in their depths that surprised him, a raw, unspoken emotion that hinted at feelings beyond mere friendship. "Come back safely. All of you."
Kaelen looked at her, truly seeing the fear beneath her royal facade, the genuine concern for the kingdom and for him. He offered a small, genuine smile, a rare sight that softened the hard lines of his face. "I will, Your Highness. I promise. We will do everything in our power to ensure Eldoria's survival." He didn't flirt back, didn't offer false promises of romance. His promise was of duty, of survival, of a future where she, and everyone he cared for, could live in peace.
As dawn broke, painting the eastern sky in hues of blood orange and steel grey, a stark, beautiful omen, Kaelen, Seraphina, Borin, and Lyra Whisperwind stood at the capital's northern gate. Horses were saddled, provisions packed, their gear gleaming faintly in the dim light. Gareth, his own detachment of Eldorian knights ready, their faces grim but resolute, clapped Kaelen on the shoulder, a firm, brotherly grip.
"Good luck, little brother," Gareth said, his voice thick with emotion, a silent acknowledgment of the dangerous path Kaelen was about to embark on. "Make them pay. For Oakhaven. For everything."
"You too, Gareth," Kaelen replied, a grim nod, his eyes meeting his brother's. "Protect Eldoria. Hold the line."
With a final glance at the soaring spires of the capital, a symbol of the kingdom he was fighting to save, Kaelen mounted his horse. The war was here. The first strike was about to begin. And Kaelen, the regressor, was ready to face it, not alone, but with the strength of his new family by his side. This time, he would not fail. This time, he would change destiny. The fate of Eldoria, and perhaps the entire kingdom, rested on the blades and spells of "The Silent Blades."