The journey to Lord Harren’s lands took Astrid through winding trails and dense forests, each step further from the ruins and deeper into the uncertain world awaiting her. She moved swiftly but cautiously, her senses heightened as she kept an eye on the shadows stretching across the path. The Blade of Kings hung at her side, its silent weight a reminder of her family’s legacy and the power she now carried.
As dusk began to settle, Astrid arrived at the outskirts of Harren’s territory, where the towering spires of his fortress loomed against the darkening sky. She had heard tales of Lord Harren—a proud, calculating man, once an ally of her family before the kingdom’s collapse. He had since carved out a kingdom of his own, fiercely guarded and tightly controlled. Winning his trust would be no easy feat.
Astrid approached the gates, her heart pounding but her expression calm. She signaled to the guards, who eyed her with suspicion. One of them stepped forward, his gaze lingering on the hilt of her sword.
“What’s your business here?” he demanded.
“I come to speak with Lord Harren,” Astrid replied, her voice steady. “Tell him that a Fenwick stands at his gates.”
The guard’s brows raised in surprise, but he quickly masked his reaction. “A Fenwick? They’re nothing but legends now, whispers of a family long gone.”
Astrid held her ground, her gaze unwavering. “Tell him. He’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
The guard exchanged a doubtful look with his companion, but something in Astrid’s bearing seemed to convince him. He nodded, gesturing for her to wait as he disappeared through the gates. Moments later, he returned, accompanied by a steward dressed in fine, dark robes.
“Lord Harren will see you,” the steward announced, though his tone held a trace of doubt. “Follow me.”
Astrid walked through the gates, her footsteps echoing against the stone paths as she followed the steward. They passed through grand halls and winding corridors, adorned with tapestries depicting Lord Harren’s victories. She noted the displays of power with interest; Harren clearly valued strength and loyalty above all.
They reached a large, dimly lit chamber where Lord Harren sat on a high-backed chair, his gaze sharp and assessing. He was a tall man with a stern face and graying hair, a figure of authority who carried himself with the ease of one who had long ruled over his lands. His eyes narrowed as he took in Astrid’s presence.
“So,” Harren began, his voice deep and measured, “a Fenwick, alive and bold enough to come to my gates. Tell me, girl, why should I believe you?”
Astrid stepped forward, meeting his gaze directly. “The bloodline you once pledged loyalty to may have faded, but it has not ended. I am here to reclaim my family’s place, and I seek your alliance to unite these lands once more.”
Harren leaned back, studying her with a hint of amusement. “Bold words from a stranger. The Fenwicks ruled long ago, but times have changed. What makes you think I would ally with a ghost of the past?”
Astrid lifted the Blade of Kings from her side, holding it out so the intricate designs and the dark stone on the hilt caught the light. “I carry this sword—the Blade of Kings. It recognizes only those of true Fenwick blood. That alone should be proof enough.”
A flicker of recognition crossed Harren’s face, his expression hardening. He rose from his chair, his eyes locked on the blade. “The Blade of Kings,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I haven’t seen it since the days of your great-grandfather.”
Astrid kept her gaze steady. “Then you know what it means that I possess it. I do not come as a beggar or a usurper but as the rightful heir to these lands. I ask for your alliance, not as a favor, but as an opportunity.”
Harren’s expression darkened. “Opportunity? And what opportunity could you possibly offer me?”
“Your lands are prosperous,” Astrid replied, choosing her words carefully. “But they are isolated. While you may enjoy security, you have no allies. When war comes—and it will come—who will stand by your side?”
He remained silent, clearly considering her words, though skepticism lingered in his eyes. “And you believe you could unite these fractured lands?”
Astrid nodded. “I will do what my family could not. I know the dangers, the sacrifices. But with allies like you, we could bring peace and strength to a kingdom left to ruin.”
Harren’s gaze shifted, weighing the possibilities. “Peace,” he repeated with a hint of derision. “Peace is an illusion, girl. Power is what brings order. Tell me, if I agree to your proposition, what do you offer me in return?”
Astrid met his gaze, feeling the weight of her next words. “Your title would remain untouched, your lands secure. But I would ask your loyalty in the battles to come. Together, we could restore not just order but true strength across these lands.”
Harren paused, his gaze intense as he scrutinized her. “I have no interest in a fool’s crusade. If I am to lend my strength to your cause, I will need more than promises.”
She nodded, understanding his caution. “Then test me. Set any trial you wish. I am prepared to prove myself.”
Harren raised an eyebrow, a faint smile curving his lips. “Very well, then. If you seek to earn my loyalty, you will undertake a task for me. My men have been troubled by a group of brigands, led by a cunning outlaw who has eluded capture. He disrupts trade and undermines my rule. If you can bring me his head, I will consider your request for alliance.”
Astrid felt a rush of anticipation, tempered by the gravity of the task. “Where can I find him?”
“The brigand camps are hidden deep in the Blackwood Forest,” Harren replied. “But be warned—he is not an ordinary outlaw. His men are loyal, and he is known to use both stealth and traps to his advantage. This will not be an easy fight.”
Astrid’s grip on the Blade of Kings tightened, her resolve solidifying. “I accept your challenge. I will bring you proof of his defeat.”
Harren inclined his head, a hint of respect in his gaze. “Then I look forward to seeing if you are truly worthy of the Fenwick name.”
With a final nod, Astrid turned and left the chamber, her mind racing with the task ahead. The Blackwood Forest was treacherous, filled with hidden dangers and unpredictable foes. But she knew this was a necessary step on her journey. Proving herself to Lord Harren would bring her closer to reclaiming her family’s legacy.
As she exited the fortress and set her path toward Blackwood, the weight of the Blade of Kings felt heavier than ever. Yet, she held her head high, knowing that with each trial, she grew stronger, closer to the destiny that awaited her.