Yuri

As soon as he felt the morning sun touch his face, Yuri opened his eyes and breathed in the fresh and salty ocean air. It was mixed with the sweet smell of Patty's fruity shampoo. She was sleeping soundly next to him, although that sleep didn't come to her until late into the night. She was still shaking and excited from the Duel against the bounty hunter, Shun. Yuri was proud of it, too. It was a solid victory. In fact, he beat the living hell out of Shun, and felt so confident in himself that he actually looked forward to his return. But there was one thing that bothered him. His new card.

He reached over his bed toward the night table where his deck lay. Bracchioraidusmaxima was laying there at the bottom of the deck; its sparkling iridescent foil and lettering shining brightly in the rays of the sun. He was used to seeing it now, but that was a different story a couple of days ago. When he woke up the day after his Duel with Shun, he hesitantly reached for his deck and prayed that he wouldn't see the monster. He froze, his fingers clamped around the deck. He knew it was there, but deep down he hoped he wouldn't see it. It couldn't have been real. Finally, he gathered the courage and flipped the deck over. There it was. He closed his eyes shut and let out a deep and discouraged sigh. After seeing the card for quite some time, it began to feel normal to him. It was real alright, as was the ghostly knight haunting him day after day. Could Norman the Conqueror be right about him? About being from another world?

No! No! That was ridiculous. In the end, this would all be just one big, giant prank set up by someone he knew. The question was who?

A cool breeze blew through his curtains, causing them to sway gently and grace both her and Patty with a graceful briskness that cooled them from the morning's humidity. Patty shivered and shuffled around the sheets, cooing. Yuri kissed her forehead and shook her shoulder.

"Patty. Patty."

"Mmm?"

"Come on. Wake up. It's time for school."

"School? No, no, no, Yuri, no," she said, turning over and putting her arm over his chest, the strap of her bra slipped down her shoulder. "Stay in bed? I'm tired. Let's not go to school today."

"Patty, no! We can't skip school today. Our midterms are coming up and you know how my dad feels about missing out on a school day. Speaking of which, I promised your dad I'd take you to school for him to give you permission to spend the night. Come on. Up, up."

"Yuri, come on," Patty moaned defiantly. She looked up at him with a sensuous smile. "After what happened last time..."

"I know," Yuri answered softly. He brushed the bangs over her face. "I know. I almost lost you. I was really scared."

Patty's hand slithered from under the covers. Her fingers interlaced with Yuri's, and she gave his hand an affectionate squeeze. "Think Shun will be back?"

Yuri laughed. "He boasted that he would. Looks like Brett's willing to do anything to keep me from going to the tournament with Black Tyranno in my deck. Don't worry, baby. I'll be ready for him and anyone else Brett sends my way. But you are going to school today."

Patty's face flopped on her pillow. "All right. All right. I'm going to take a shower."

"Don't take too long. Or we're going to be late."

Patty lifted herself up with her arms, then crawled a short distance towards Yuri and kissed him. She climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom slowly as if she wanted Yuri to gaze upon her for as long as he could. She looked back at him and beamed before walking into the bathroom to wash and dress. Once the door closed, Ser Norman made his presence.

The girl is dear to you, isn't she?

Yuri slouched over and rested his hands over his knees, crossing his fingers together. He let out a heavy sigh, for he was not looking forward to hearing from Ser Norman. But after last night, he let in some room for understanding. He supposed it was time to listen to what this ghostly knight had to say.

"Yeah, she is," Yuri answered with a whisper so Patty didn't hear him talking to the ghost. "She means a lot to me."

And you will do anything in your power to keep her safe, will you not?

"If it means I have to listen to you, I'll do it."

Good. These bounty hunters your rival is sending are just the challenge you need to sharpen your skills. You are eager to defeat them, yes?

"You're damn right I do," Yuri said standing up. He marched to the window and gazed out to sea. "I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks, for...everything."

Jon

"You're going to tell your father about us now?" Summer asked, following Jon out of their bedroom. He locked the door then looked at her, smiled, and kissed her on the forehead.

"Be brave, my love," he said. "We can do this."

"But tensions are so high right now with King Forrest pooling most of his forces here. Your father might be so mad about us. He will disavow you from the clan, you know."

"Not with Forrest's forces coming to our country at full force," Jon said storming away from the door to their chambers. His black and gold crown flashed in the flames of the torches that lined the halls of his home.

Summer was quick to follow him. She was so frightened that just being a mere foot away from him made her feel like she was in imminent danger. The hem of her long blue and gold gown brushed loudly against the dusty stone floors and her jewelry jingled frantically, trying their best to stay on her person. "What happened? I heard his whole campaign to conquer Elleria was completely stopped. Do you know anything about this?"

Even as she power-walked by his side, Jon could see her trembling with fear. "You're still worried Father might disavow me? No. Have no fear of that, Summer. He's short-tempered but he's not foolish. If I go, so does Gearfried. And my sisters for that matter. Their bond with me is stronger than that with my father. The king's children are his best military assets."

"I understand," said Summer.

"Besides, he needs my help in defending Riftgaard. King Forrest is much more ruthless than usual it seems, especially now that half his forces have been burned to a crisp by the Dragon Summoner."

"So she is real!" Summer asked with a gasp, following Jon down the stone halls of the mountain castle. She picked up the lower half of her dress to give her feet more room to move. "I just knew she was real! I just knew it! Where is she? Will we get to meet her?"

"No, she's all the way in the East right now. Forrest still has pockets of stiff resistance trying to keep their hold on some key Ellerian territory. Huh. After what she did to his army, they don't stand a chance; fools all of them. Anyway, we have troubles of our own. I received a message from the warriors on the Blue Plains that Forrest's army has recuperated at the capital and are marching here at full force. Three-hundred-thousand men."

"Goddesses!" Summer gasped.

"Yes. It seems Gearfried is needed once more to defend the home of the Berja. I must venture on this quest to find the spell to unlock him from his armor."

"But you're needed here, baby!"

"I can't let Riftgaard fall. The only option I have to ensure their safety is if I go to Lord Brooks of the Golden Valley. He may have one of the only modernized armies in the West, not to mention the largest. But I don't think he wants anything to do with me after I broke my vow to marry his daughter."

Summer clutched his arm even tighter, following his lead to the aquarium halls to look at the fishes and glowing coral reefs. "What about his brother, Kevan Brooks of the House of Hearts?" she asked.

"Hmm," Jon thought, stroking his beard. "He rules the northern half of the Golden Valley, while his brother, Victor, rules the southern half. I suppose I could have some distance while asking for his favor."

Summer scratched her head. "That's odd, I thought they'd be closer together in such a place."

"It's how they can scrape every last bit of gold from travelers and merchants who cross the Golden Valley. Between their castles, there is nothing but miles and miles of forests bloated with monsters and bandits. Their castles offer food, drinks, bed, cards, anything you need. Their homes provide sanctuary to weary travelers who braved the perils of the Golden Valley. And they offer top of the line comforts to which those poor saps will pay well for."

"Devious," Summer admitted, "but smart nonetheless."

"Yes, you're right, babe," said Jon. "Lord Kevan has been very good to me, hell, even praised our love when word of our relationship reached his ears."

Summer giggled softly when she heard that. Jon felt so much better when she did that, for her smile always brought warmth to his heart.

"So, do you think that Lord Kevan can soften things up between the two of you?" Summer asked.

"I do," said Jon. "Hopefully, Lord Victor will find it in his heart to forgive me."

"He's going to want something in return," said Summer.

"You don't think I know that?" Jon responded sharply while stopping in front of an exhibit with colorful glowing fish swimming about in the dark blue waters of the reef. "I know what he wants, and getting that is going to be harder than any challenge I've ever faced since this war started. Will it even be enough? No matter how hard I try, things always go south for me."

"We have Yuri. He's coming back soon," Summer assured him, rubbing his hand.

"It will be another few months before he comes back."

Summer sighed. "We can do this. I know we can. We'll stop Forrest and find Gearfried the Swordmaster. And when you do, you'll be the greatest warrior in Riftgaard."

Jon kissed her forehead. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Summer rested her cheek against his chest. "But what of those three boys who came here?"

Jon chuckled and pet her lovingly on the back of the head. "They are my fellow Princes of the Eight Kingdoms of Termnnia. Prince Stas of Monde will aid us with a force of five thousand of his finest knights. And we have Prince Jaeyoung Shim, who has traveled all the way from the Empire of Uzumé. And the dark-skinned boy is an old friend of mine. Prince Marcel of Akuuda. He needs help, for King Forrest sends another powerful fighting force to subdue them. Once we complete the quest to unlock Gearfried, I'm going with him and the others to Akuuda to aid his kingdom."

"Oh, this is so exciting! Yuri isn't even back yet, and you and the Princes are already at work trying to defend the continent from all wrongdoers. Master Yugi must be so proud of all of you."

Jon froze and let out an unpleasant grunt. He did not sound happy about this as Summer. All of a sudden, his face fell. Just what he needed. More responsibility. More burdens on his shoulders. He suddenly turned cold and released himself from Summer's embrace. He stormed down the halls mumbling. Mayhaps, he thought, this wasn't such a good idea after all. What if something were to happen to him here? Could they even tolerate the cold or fight in the snow? What if one of them died? The Kings of the other nations could grow angry and blame Riftgaard if any harm came to their sons.

"Jon?" Summer said, tilting her head to the right. She narrowed her eyes in concern, wondering what was ailing him. "Jon? Jon? HEY!"

"Huh?" Jon asked.

"What's gotten into you?" Summer asked. "You haven't been the same since we started our journey to your homeland."

"What are you talking about?" Jon asked, getting frustrated.

"Are you kidding? You keep me hidden like a boy keeping a dagger from his father, you barely talk to me. Honestly, other than making love to my rump, it feels lately like you want nothing to do with me."

"Poor you," grumbled Jon, shuffling towards an armory.

Summer lifted her arms in the air in agitation and slapped them against her hips. "There you go again with your mood swings. I just had my monthly course and I didn't change moods as much as you. Darling, what's eating you?"

"I don't know if I want to go through with this anymore, Summer," said Jon. "I'm a fool. Perhaps we shouldn't let my father know about you." He slammed himself against the wall and pounded it with his fist. The stress was infuriating him. So many questions with no answers in sight. "You're right. This was a bad idea. The man could disavow me from the House. If he does, I will never see my sisters again. I will never claim the crown that was meant for me. Now, I'm sent to go find Gearfried's true form. These princes are here. And you."

Summer placed her hands on his bear-fur cloak. "Jon, no matter what," she began, but she was interrupted when he pushed his shoulder up, forcing her hand off him.

"Oh don't start with your theatrics," Jon said.

"What theatrics?" cried Summer. "All I'm trying to say is..."

"I know what you're going to say, you've repeated this to me over a hundred times. I'm getting sick of it!"

Summer's thin brows furrowed and her eyes flashed with hurt as her cheeks started turning red like burning hot coals. "And our love? You're getting sick of it? So what's that supposed to mean Jon? You twist my ovaries for the past year and now you're done with me? So what then? I was nothing more than your little toy?"

"This is not about you, Summer," said Jon.

"I thought we had something special, Jon. Are you bored with me? Are you done with me?"

"This is not about you!" he said raising his voice.

"Answer me, Jon! Are you done with me?"

"This is not about you!" Jon roared.

"Are you done with me? Damn it, answer the question!"

Jon turned furiously. "THIS...IS...NOT...ABOUT...YOU!"

He was so furious that he could not think. All reason had left him and he wanted to silence her with violence. He raised his hand ready to strike her, but as soon as his arm was up in the air, he felt a sharp pain grasp his wrist. Then, he felt as if he was struck by a bolt of lightning, sending him flying across the room. He smashed against the wall, smoldering and sparking with electricity. He grunted and tried to pick himself up, but his ax appeared from out of nowhere and dropped on his back. The pommel felt like it weighed as much as a mountain. Jon grunted in agony, and spit sprayed out of his mouth.

Summer could not move. For one, she could not bear to see him suffering like that. And the second thing. She had not anticipated Zéuna, the Goddess of Thunder would show herself now.

Her presence was chilling and frightening for poor Summer. Zéuuna's beauty was unmatched. Her long, graceful, hair looked like lightning made into silk. She wore a white and gold loincloth around her waist, crusted with amethyst with lightning bolts sparking inside them, and a matching cloth that she had wrapped around her breasts. Her skin was fair and radiant and glowing with blue lightning-bolt-shaped runes. Her eyes were violent and flashed like a thunderstorm.

"Do not fear me, child," she said to Summer. Her voice was powerful like a clap of thunder but was as gentle and soothing as a river. "Prince Jon. I am disappointed in you. I give you Anduin, the greatest weapon in my armory as a token of my thanks for your devotion to me. I name you my champion, I bless you with the force of lightning and convince my sister to lend you her mightiest warrior. Here I am, thinking thou has been using my fine gifts to restore order and bring justice to the world. But no. I find you striking a woman — the keys to all life. I am disgusted."

"No!" Jon cried. "I didn't —"

"Give me one good reason why I should not strip you of these blessings, Jon of Riftgaard."

"Wait!" Summer cried, standing in front of Jon and holding out her arms. "Please, your eminence, I beg of you to spare him of any consequences. Please have mercy."

The Goddess of Thunder snapped her fingers and Anduin disappeared, releasing Jon of its near-infinite burden. Summer ran to him and helped him up. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Why do you defend him?" Zéuna asked, placing her hand on her hip, which she cocked to the side. "He who would strike you?"

"I did not mean to," Jon said, breathing heavily. "I feel overburdened with so much. This war. The safety of my friends. And her. I want to be with her. I love her so much, I would break an alliance to be with her." He placed both hands on her cheeks. Summer's lips trembled at those words and she let out a few tears. Jon wiped them off with his thumbs and kissed her forehead with affection. "I love her so much. I would never harm her, your eminence, I swear. I just...I let anger get the best of me."

"Hmph, if you keep doing that, you will not be an ally of Master Yugi, or my champion, for long, Prince Jon. You must learn to control yourself. Control your emotions. You're at war now. Welcome to the world. It's not what we had envisioned for you, but we created heroes like yourself to make it better. That is the task that has been given to you. Keep a cool head and find the solutions needed to keep the cancer of injustice from spreading across this fair world. One of the ways to do that is to speak truth. I know what you have done to have this woman by your side. You must tell your father about her. A love that is kept secret is not real."

Jon nodded. "All right. All right. If Summer wants anything to do with me anymore."

"Of course I do," she said, placing her soft, warm, hand on his cheek. "I'm with you to the very end. I love you."

"Why?" Jon asked. "Why do you forgive me? Especially after what I've done. A man must never strike a woman. I don't deserve you!"

"That's not true, babe," said Summer. "There were a lot of handsome princes back in the Summerlands. But I chose to be with you. Do I have to spell it out for you Jon? I love you."

"I know," Jon said, nodding his head. "I wish I wasn't a Prince. I wish this didn't have to happen."

"Well, unfortunately, it has," said Zéuna. "Your fellow Princes all have burdens to share in this war-torn world. The three that come to you now, leave their homes behind to help you. They have a thousand problems of their own to solve, yet they come here because they must. You are their brother in arms. Be strong. Be the warrior I thought you were."

Jon felt something forming in his palm. His legendary ax appeared out of a burst of storm clouds and he grabbed it at once. Before he could thank her, she disappeared.

Someone knocked on the door to their room. Jon and Summer released themselves from their embrace and fixed their clothing. Jon was about to answer, but Summer stopped him. She adjusted his crown, kissed his cheek, and stepped back as he opened the door to see Prince Marcel, shivering in a sleeveless parka. The two princes hugged each other fiercely.

"Jon!" Marcel cried out. "So good to see you, my old friend."

"Marcel," Jon said stepping back to get a good look at his friend. They were but small, skinny boys when they last saw each other. Marcel had grown big and strong and his arms were bumped with scarification to make him appear scaled like the Red-Eyes Black Dragon his family kept. Jon knew that each scar he got was a tally mark for each person he killed in battle. And his arms and chest were covered with them. "You look good," Jon complimented, slapping the thick arm of his friend. "Wow. Seen many battles?"

"A little too much, my friend," Marcel said, stepping aside to let Princess Aisha, his future bride.

"And who is this?" Jon asked with a big smile.

Aisha bowed. Her golden hair smelled like berries and there was gold dust glittering on her olive skin. "You are the legendary Prince of Iron and Thunder my beloved speaks of." She hugged Jon and kissed both his cheeks. "I have heard so much about you."

"And so have I," Jon said bowing. "Marcel's descriptions of your beauty in his letters do it no justice. Allow me to introduce you to Summer."

"Ah, the face that broke an alliance," said Marcel. He bowed respectfully. "I sure hope you know what you're doing, Jon."

Aisha walked to Summer and kissed both her cheeks. Then she stepped back to examine her. "She's beautiful!" Aisha said, fixing Summer's hair. "But that is not the only reason why Jon would break his oath to a lord. There is much about this girl that is to be cherished, I can sense it. Politics be damned. This is love. And it's a rare thing to find these days with all these customs of forced marriages. I'm sure Jon knows what he is doing if he is willing to risk so much to have this girl in his life."

"I am," said Jon. "Even if it means I have to separate my branch from the family tree."

Marcel took thunderous steps toward Summer and hugged her. "I welcome her with open arms," he said. He looked back at Jon. "If anything happens, you are always welcome in my halls."

"Thank you, my friend."

"Well, I suppose it's the moment of truth. The king is ready, Jon. Good luck."

They walked out of Jon's quarters after they dressed for their audience with the King. Jon wore his armor of fur leather, and iron. Marcel and Aisha trailed behind Summer wearing a red gown with a cloak cape trimmed in white faux fur. She had red earmuffs and red mittens, making her stand out like a rose amongst a field of weeds in a sea of infinite brown and gray. The wild-like Riftgaardians looked at her like she was a dangerous animal that needed to be put down. The children pointed and laughed at her strange clothing. The women eyed her jealously, and the men snorted with disapproval like the winter beasts. Summer pressed herself closer to Jon as he led her up the stone tunnels carved into the mountain which trailed to the castle above.

Guardsmen blew on horns announcing his arrival. The iron gates opened slowly. Then, like a pack of ravenous wolves, Jon's sisters came running out of the dark and jumped on him, knocking him down to the ground. "Sisters!" he cried out joyfully, trying to free themselves from their grasp. "I'm glad to see you, too!"

"Good morning, hermandali ," said Liola the White Lynx, casually walking towards Jon, buried under the pile of fur, flesh, and armor. She looked at Summer and grinned. "And this must be the bride who's behind all the trouble?"

Summer's smile faded. Liola placed her arms behind her back and circled Summer. "Your Graces," she said to Marcel and Aisha. The two of them just looked at each other as Liola examined Summer. "Does she fight?" Liola asked.

"No," Jon said, getting up from the ground.

"Does she know how to hunt?"

"No," Jon answered again.

"Does she know how to cast magic?"

"Liola stop!" Jon commanded.

"Does she know anything?" she said, taking strands of Summer's hair and sniffing them. "So you ended a perfectly good alliance...because of one pretty face?"

Summer released herself from her grasp. "Excuse me! I don't have to put up with this!"

"Ooo," cooed Liola. "The little cub has some bite."

"She's teething," chuckled Alfsigr, Jon's sultriest sister. She took her turn examining Summer. The rest of Jon's sisters stood around her, tugging her hair and pulling at her cloak and gown smelling the sweet scents of her perfume and shampoo.

"Are all girls from the south this fruity?" Sassa asked, touching Summer's cheek.

"I..." stuttered Summer.

"Don't worry, Feyu (Pretty thing)," said Alfsigr. "I find that rather cute. If there is time, we can teach you the ways of the ax, the bow, and the sword."

"Leave her alone!" said Jon.

"It's something she must do, hermandali ," said Saga. "If she is to marry a Berja, then she's going to have to become a Berja. Father will not approve having a weak Summerland maiden in the family."

"The time will come for that," said Jon. "Right now, we're at war. Weddings and traditions can wait until we have defeated our enemies."

"Indeed," said Liola, still looking at Summer like she was a wild boar that needed to be skewered immediately. She loved her brother and wanted the best for him. Summer, in her eyes, was not the best thing for Jon right now. "Well, let's see what Father has to say about this. He is waiting for Jon. We can't keep him doing that. His patience runs out faster than air in a child's balloon."

Liola stormed into the hall. The others followed. Astrid sprinted next to Summer. "Don't worry," she said. "You'll get used to them. I'm Astrid."

"Oh," said Summer. "You're Jon's baby sister, correct."

Astrid did not approve of that. "Youngest, yes, but I don't know about the baby."

"It's how he refers to you," said Summer. "Well, it's nice to meet you."

"Let's just hope my father feels the same way," Astrid said cautiously.

They approached the throne room and noticed a Werevegun, the Wolfmen of the East.

He was named Ser Xaxeras, a dear friend of the family and champion of the House. Summer hid behind Astrid like a frightened child. He wore heavy-plated armor colored black with detailed scrollwork and statuettes of wolves carrying axes. He was walking down the halls leading a girl away in chains. He told the guards to escort her upstairs while he slowly stalked toward Jon and his friends. Summer tried her best not to scream or run, and keep herself from shivering. Since she was very young, wolves were the creatures she feared the most in the world. Nothing terrified her more than the werewolves of Termnnia. She was but a girl during the infamous Autumn of Silver, when a Lycnantrophy epidemic ran wild in her country, turning hundreds of the local villagers outside the walls of the city into ravenous, hairy, monsters that howled at the moon constantly. Even though she was safe behind the walls of the castle, their infernal howling from the forests and the mountains haunted her dreams and gave her long, sleepless nights. She read about the Wervegun race in her books. Even though she had come to know some of them as great scholars, poets, philosophers, and even politicians, it did very little to quell her fear of them.

He stood over her and Jon with a smile on his face. He bowed politely. "Is this her, my lord?" he asked. His voice was low and raspy, but articulate and very formal.

"Yes. She only just arrived a couple of days ago. I am sorry I kept her a secret for so long. Summer, this is Ser Xaxares. He is my oldest and dearest friend. As well as one of my greatest teachers in the arts of war. And..." He sighed. "Mathematics. Oof, I remember the ear-pulling every time I got a formula wrong."

"It helped you remember at least," said the wolf warrior. "Although I wish I could have taught you more in terms of loyalty. You made an oath to the lord of the valley, Jon. You have cost your father much because of this."

"I'd risk anything for her," Jon said, holding his head up and taking Summer's hand. "I do not love the daughter of the valley lords. And I should not be obligated to marry a woman I do not love because it is good for trade and relations. There has to be a better way; I assure you I will find a way."

"I hope so, your highness, for your sake. If the king does not favor this girl, you could face exile. Or worse. Please, try not to make any more stupid mistakes."

"Um, excuse me," Summer said with a squeak.

"You may speak up," Ser Xaxeras said with a chuckle. "I do not bite."

"Yes, forgive me. It's just my first time seeing your kind before."

"Do I terrify you?"

Summer's face went horribly red. "I did not mean to offend you. I have had a fear of wolves since I was small."

"Did something happen to create this fear?"

Summer lifted up her dress to show him her ankle. There was terrible scarring in the flesh that looked like the bite of a savage animal. "When I was a little girl, my family was attacked by a pack of Silver Fang on our way home from the Duchy of Applehold. They ate the horses, killed our rider, and most of our escorts. They encircled our wheelhouse all night. At dawn, we thought they left. I went out to pee and they sprung out of the bushes and attacked me. One of them got me right there and started ripping and tearing. I would have lost my foot had it not been for a group of hunters from the local village who had come to rescue us just in the knick of time. And then, a year later, there was an epidemic of Lyncanthrophy in my country. I heard werewolves howling at the moon for three long months without end. I drove me quite mad."

Ser Xaxeras nodded. "The Autumn of Silver. I heard about that. Do not worry, dear lady. I am not offended. It's natural for us to be associated with those feral beasts, werewolves, because of the way we look. I assure you, endless you are my enemy, you have nothing to fear. If Jon loves you, then so do I. Welcome to our home, Lady Summer."

Summer felt the warmth of joy wash over her and quelled her fears of the Wervegun warrior. She performed curtsy and thanked him. "Ser. I just wish to know who was that? The girl whom you were taking away."

"A prisoner," replied Jon. "We captured her in the battle the other day. She claims she's the daughter of Antilles Dragonheart. Princess Dalaris."

"So she says," Ser Xaxeras said before stomping down the halls to follow the guards leading the girl the dungeons.

Aisha tried her best to comprehend what had just been said. "Did I hear him right? The daughter of King Antilles? What's a Dragonheart doing with the Naralian army? Bastards! I just knew they couldn't be trusted!"

"That cannot be," said Summer. "This is Impossible. Dalaris Dragonheart died in the rebellion years ago. Is this girl truly who she says she is? I surely don't think so."

"I question that myself," said Jon. "Look at her. She's so young. She should be in her thirties, but she looks to be your age, Summer. However, her comrades called her 'Princess' and Lady Dragonheart on the field. If this person is who she says she is, she might be the tool we need to bring House Dragonheart out of the shadows. Somehow, Master Yugi thinks they are behind this war."

"House Dragonheart?" gasped Summer. "Gracious. That's incredible. If they are revealed, we could see a House going extinct soon."

"The sooner the better," said Marcel. "As Aisha says, House Dragonheart is not to be trusted."

"Come forward!" King Audun commanded Jon and Summer, once he saw them standing at the entrance.

Aisha fixed summer's hair and patted her cheek. "Good luck," she whispered.

Summer thanked her, then looked at Jon who only nodded. He stepped back to allow her to go forward towards the Topaz Throne of Riftgaard, where her (hopefully) future father-in-law was waiting. Summer cautiously walked towards the king. The clip-clop of her heels broke the silence of the hall. Every Berja from every head-clan in Riftgaard had come to see the pretty Summerland maiden that Jon chose to marry. The girl with a face so beautiful he would betray the alliance his father had with House Brooks.

Jon went to go follow her, but his father held up a calloused hand. "Not you!" he said.

Jon stopped dead in his tracks. He rubbed Summer's quivering shoulders to calm her before sending her on her way towards the king. As she passed by, she heard sniggering and crude whispers coming from the tables all around her. Berja warriors were slamming their cups on the table. Some started smacking their chops. Poor Summer felt like she was a little lamb surrounded by ravenous wolves and dominant lions. Some were so bold as to grab her cloak and examine the furs. No doubt, they knew it was fake, and they scorned her for it.

With each step she took, the Topaz Throne seemed to get farther and farther from her. She felt as though the throne was moving back away from her so she could be stuck in the gaze of the warriors of the mead hall forever. But, she finally made it before the Topaz Throne. "Your Grace," she said bowing.

The King examined her as she stood before him. What would he say? What would he do? Queen Ara smiled warmly at Summer. That brought some comfort to Summer, and she kept her eyes focused mostly on Ara. The king noticed this, however, and commanded Summer to look back at him. He grumbled and snorted, squeezing his gold cup.

There was a young boy of thirteen sitting on a wooden chair inlaid with carvings of battle stories. He had a long braid going down his back, and cold blue eyes. His skin was pale as the snow blowing outside. His crown was obnoxiously more ravishing than the crown worn by the king. He had black markings painted under his narrow eyes, and his lips resembled the color of a peach. No doubt in Summer's mind, the boy was Jon's cousin, Theo. He examined Summer with a far more poisonous glare than Audun. He coldly stirred his cup in his hand. His fingers glimmering with jeweled rings.

"A pretty face, yes," said the king. "Can't see with that cloak on you, though. Let me see you."

Summer shyly nodded her head and undid the stings of her cloak until it slumped off her shoulders and fell on the floor with a thud. King Audun bobbed his head as he looked at Summer from heel to brow.

"It's a beautiful dress you're wearing," Queen Ara commented

"Very nice," King Audun agreed. "Beautiful face, and quite the body to compliment it. Now I know why my son was fool enough to break his oath with House Brooks."

"Father..." began Jon.

"Be silent!" Audun commanded.

There was a long pause before King Audun gave Jon a gesture to come forward. Jon quickly made his way forward towards his bride. He picked up the cloak and put it over Summer's shoulders.

"Father. I love her."

King Audun gave a disapproving shake of his head. "You love her?" said he. "You destroy our alliance with House Brooks and risk the economic stability of our kingdom because you love her? I thought I raised you to be better than this, my son."

"Were you any different?" Jon asked. "You broke an oath with another clan because you wanted to be with mother, remember?"

Queen Ara smiled and gave one nod to her husband. King Audun went red in the face. Veins began to bulge in his temple and his body quivered. He gripped his cup so tightly the stem screeched. "Well, I...but...but...No! No! No! This is an entirely different matter!"

"Is it father?" asked Jon. "Look, I will find a way to make it up to House Brooks. And I know you disapprove of the love Summer and I share but..."

"I never said I disapproved, son," said Audun. "Am I angry that our alliance is broken? Yes. But if you can find a way to restore what we had with House Brooks, I will be content. I'm sorry for all this, Jon. Son, I only want you to be happy."

"Then why did you force me to marry Lord Brook's daughter, Father?"

"Because, my son, your mother and I are not going to be around forever. And...I just want to make sure my House and my children are taken care of. I want my son to be the fiercest king in Riftgaard since the Iron Knights. And I want my daughters to marry fine men and create more children so that our House can go on forever."

"Jon is a strong and able warrior, my love," said Ara. "And remember, he has Gearfried as a companion. Jon will bring our country into prosperity when he is king one day."

"Uncle, you cannot be seriously accepting this ridiculous proposal do you?" Theo asked, standing from his wooden throne. "Jon broke an oath, an act punishable by death!"

Audun looked at his nephew. "When last I checked...it was Audun, not Theo, who was King of Riftgaard."

"Keep acting this way with your children and you will not be king for long!" said Theo.

"Watch your words, boy!" said Audun. "I may have agreed to take you in and raise you, but damn it I have my limits! One more outburst and you'll be washing the pig pens for a week!"

"Why is cousin Theo with us, father?" Jon asked.

"His parents were killed in a Naralian ambush. Theo lost his family and his House. So, your mother and I have decided to take him in as our own."

Jon looked at Theo and bowed his head. "I am sorry for your loss, Theo."

"Bah!" Theo spat. "It was a loss that could have been avoided had you just accepted your oath to..."

"Shut your mouth, boy!" shouted Audun. "Oath or no oath, the Naralias would have come to your village and burned it. There was nothing that can be done to avoid this."

"What can we do, father?" said Jon.

King Audun rose from his throne. "You will do as I have told you to do. Unlock Gearfried from his armor, that is what must be done. Riftgaard marches to war again. And this time, the howls of the Wolves of Riftgaard will sound in the night as we charge to take down our foes."

Ser Xaxeras

He picked up a torch that hung on one of the walls and proceeded up to the tallest tower in the Red Palace. The moon was full, but the narrow stained-glass windows seemed to block the light making it quite dark in the spiral staircase that swirled up the tower to a room bolted with twenty locks. Ser Xaxeras took a key from a pocket in his robes and placed it into a crazy lock that caused the bolts to loosen in a clever manner.

Ser Xaxeras was carrying a package under his arm. He did his best not to squish it, for the content inside was very delicate. He knocked, actually banged, his fist on the door.

"Enter," a woman said from behind the door. "Although I don't know why you unlock the door before knocking."

"Wiseass!" Ser Xaxeras growled.

He opened the door and entered the chamber/prison of the long lost princess, Dalaris Dragonheart the Dragon Slayer. She sat by the window playing Duel Monsters with herself while clad in a pink nightie. "Ser Xaxeras," she said, destroying her pretend opponent's Blackland Fire Dragon with her Neo the Magic Swordsman. "Is it dinner already?"

"It is," said the wolf-warrior. "Lady Summer made you a little…treat. Happy Birthday, by the way."

"She shouldn't have," Daralis grinned.

"You may have everyone around here fooled, but not I. I know you're lying. You cannot be Darlaris Dragonheart. I learned that your father does not wish to treat for your release!" He put the package on a dinner table. He opened it to reveal a chocolate cake with blue icing. "We have heard nothing."

Dalaris slid her finger across the chocolate surface and sucked on it. "I'm not surprised." She declared proudly.

Ser Xaxeras was displeased with her comment. "Good night." He bowed and turned to leave.

"Won't you join me?" Dalaris asked.

"No."

"It's not going to be a happy birthday all alone," Dalaris said, cutting the cake.

"I don't care," said Ser Xaxeras. "It's not my job to make you happy. You're our prisoner, you should do well to remember that. And if you are lying to Prince Jon about your identity, I will personally have your head cut off with my own blade."

Dalaris wasn't phased at all by his threat. "You love the boy, don't you? Prince Jon."

"The prince? He's like a son to me, yes," Ser Xaxeras replied with a nod. "I taught him the moves he used to defeat you in battle earlier today. I taught him well, for he took down your entire company. You are our prisoner because of his lessons with me."

"Yes, I am your prisoner, Ser Xaxeras, but I am a lady in distress and you are a knight. You're not going to let a girl celebrate her birthday alone, are you? That's not very chivalrous. It goes against your code of ethics."

"Fine!" said Ser Xaxeras. "I will have one slice before I go."

Dalaris leaned over the table, elbows resting on the surface and hands holding up her chin. She smiled and stared lovingly into the eyes of the beast. "And a glass of milk?" she swooned.

"What trickery is this?"

"No trickery, Ser. You're my hero. I've heard a lot of great stories about you at the dining hall of Dragonrock since I was a little girl."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Oh, but it is true. The knights wished they could be you. A handsome man. Strong and brave. The skills to be unkillable in the battlefield and a champion of the great House of Jahangir the Iron Knight Clan."

"You have heard about my tales?" Ser Xaxeras asked, going to the kitchen to get the milk for the girl to wash down the cake.

"I-I have," said Dalaris bashfully. She watched Ser Xaxeras pour the milk into two glasses. "I always looked forward to hearing your latest adventure at the table. I had a stuffed wolf in my bedroom and I dressed him in foil for his armor and I tore a piece of my dress off to make your cape. I would make a fort out of pillows and pretend to be trapped by a horrible dragon. I was doomed to be its prisoner forever. And then you'd come to save the day. It was always a fantasy of mine to be rescued by a knight. Slay the beast and rescue the damsel. Cliché, yes, but it kept me sane."

"You were losing your mind?" Ser Xaxeras asked. He ate a clump of cake.

"Having Antilles Dragonheart as a father can do that," said Dalaris. She smirked. "That man. He always hated me."

"Hated you? I figured Antilles a stern man, but never cruel enough to despise his children."

"You know nothing of him, Ser Xaxeras," said Dalaris. "If he truly loved his daughter, then why has he not come to treat with the king for the life of his daughter?"

Ser Xaxeras scratched his throat. She made a valid point.

Dalaris took a gulp of milk. "Did you know I didn't think Antilles was capable of love until Alexandra was born?"

"I've seen him once in court when I participated in the Battle of Bell Hills. He couldn't keep his hands off her."

"Oh, Ser Xaxeras, Antilles has such a fondness for her. She was the one he favored. Everyone did. He had the gall to even present her to Forrest one day. He traveled all that way just to spite me. I washed the floors as he paraded her through the palace. He showed her off. He was so...proud of having her by his side. She took my place as his daughter. As a princess. ' O' beautiful Alexandra, you look like a dream!' 'O' people of Dragonrock make way for Princess Alexandra!'. I will never forget the way he looked at me as he passed by. He had this awful grin as he led her across the halls in his arm."

"Poor you," Ser Xaxeras said sarcastically. He rolled his black/gold eyes. He was still chewing cake. "Why did your father despise you? Surely your mother…"

"I killed my mother!" Dalaris cried out.

Ser Xaxeras coughed, almost choking on his cake.

His expression made Dalaris laugh. "She died bringing me into this world. It wasn't my fault. Heh, Antilles always made sure to make me believe it was. When the rebellion started, I joined the army. I was thirteen at the time, but I was through being a lady. From then on, I would slay my own monsters. One of them would be the Des Volstgalph of my uncle. The day I slew the dragon...I thought of you."

Ser Xaxeras gave a growl of irritation. He cut the cake into a clean slice and gave it to Dalaris.

"Why did you do it?" Ser Xaxeras asked. "Why did you kill a dragon, Dalaris?"

Dalaris drank her milk. She wiped a stream of it from her chin and grinned. "You make it sound like I loved doing it. Well, I didn't. That dragon I killed…was mine. All members of House Dragonheart are given a Des Volstgalph egg from the vaults under the castle. The dragon, when it hatched, was so fond of me. I cared for it. Nurtured it, gave it care like it was a baby of my own. I named him Danteleron, after my mother's dragon, just to make my father happy."

Ser Xaxeras saw her cringe. Her body movement was enough for him to understand it did not even chip the stone heart of Antilles.

"It was all for naught," said Dalaris. "In fact, I think I pissed him off even more. Weeks later, my father took my dragon from me and gave it to his brother, my uncle; Rayleonard Dragonheart, so they could fly together and destroy Master Yu-Gi-Oh and his army. The evil they fed my poor beast made him grow to monstrous size like my father's dragon, Mortis the Black Storm. Danteleron was forced to become my family's newest weapon. He grew to such a size that it was bigger than even Mortis. They armored him up and readied him for battle. I was tasked with being my Lord Uncle's lieutenant. As they covered my dragon in armor, I heard Rayleonard say…"

She paused. Her pretty face crinkling with agony at the painful memory.

Ser Xaxeras leaned forward. "What? What did he say?"

"Once we defeat those bunglers, Rassay will be ours permanently! This Duchy will be of no use to me." He was referring to the land he ruled. The Duchy of Fellflame. He looked Danteleron in the eyes and said: You will fly to my city and burn it. You will kill everyone there. Turn them all into ash. Leave none of them alive. We will show the world what happens when they cross us. We will burn traitors with fire like the heathen kings of the Dawn Age. Kill them all. Annihilate them. Execute them. Murder them. Destroy. " She whispered. " Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. And then he turned to me."

Ser Xaxeras shivered with fright. He could almost see the madness in Rayleonard's eyes.

"When we destroy the armies of the enemy rebellion, I command you to kill your father and grandfather. Bring me their heads and the Heart-EartH Crown. I will make a chalice out of my brother's skull. I will drink from it. And you, Dalaris, will be my queen' ."

She rested her head on her hand and continued.

"Do this for me. Make them pay for all they've done to you. I am here to save you, Dalaris. Isn't that what you've wanted ?' I was so confused. I was so young, what would I know, right?"

"Dalaris," Ser Xaxeras said.

"Bring me their heads. Bring me the crown, and all your dreams will come true."

Ser Xaxeras gave a growl. "And that's when you killed him."

Dalaris nodded. "I stuck him like the pig that he was. I did my best to save my dragon from the darkness my father and uncle embedded in his heart. But it was too late. Danteleron was too far-gone to be saved. So I had to do what I had to do. He was chained to the cave, making the battle easier, for lack of a better word. I didn't think twice about killing my uncle. But, Danteleron. He was…" She sobbed. "He was my son. My baby. The only option I had was to save my people and put him out of his misery. What was I supposed to do? Let him go free and murder thousands and thousands of people? Heed the words of my uncle and kill my own father?"

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" said Ser Xaxeras.

"I did," said Dalaris. "I told my father what Rayleonard wanted to do, but he loved his brother too much to believe what I had to say. He disavowed me from the family name and had me tortured for weeks."

"No!"

"Yes, I know what you're thinking. How can anyone be so cruel? This girl must be making this up. Well if you are, curse you! I don't care."

"Then why didn't you say this to anyone else?"

"Because Antilles already sewed the seeds of deception in the minds of all the people. His lies blossomed in their tiny heads. He has such a way with words, my father. I mean, who are you going to believe? The honorable Antilles Dragonheart? Or the traitorous murderer, Dalaris of the extinct House of Deepclaw? He turned my whole kingdom against me, after the sacrifice that I made to save them all. He hated me even more for saving him. And to prove that he was through with me…he sold me to King Forrest. And it was there I toiled my whole life. It doesn't surprise me he would say I died in the rebellion. He always wanted me gone from his life."

"Dalaris I'm sorry."

Dalaris smiled and wiped her tears. She tossed her plate and silverware off the table. The cake splattered and the plate broke into tiny pieces. "No need. Why, I bet he's up there in his ivory tower in Rassay with Alexandra as his pet. He has what he wants. And I will say no more." She yawned.

"The hour is of late," said Ser Xaxeras. "You must rest. I will tell Jon about what you have told me in the morning."

"Tuck me in?"

Ser Xaxeras growled but he did what was asked of him. He patted her head after she crawled into bed and then walked out.

"I love you." She called out from the dark.

"ACK!" Ser Xaxeras cried out and froze. His tail and ears stiffened like a stick from the shock.

"Promise this won't be the last time you visit me, Ser Knight."

"Very well, I shall see you tomorrow night. But expect me no more if Jon commands me."

"I'm fine with that. You intrigue me, Ser Xaxeras. Good night."