"A King can command armies, but love commands the will to survive. In that truth, every war begins."
The secret gates of the Northern Kingdom groaned as the winches turned, as the wind picked up and snow blew across the courtyard in thin, restless spirals, as the kind that whispers omens before battle. The scent of frost and steel hung thick in the air. I stood at the center of the courtyard, gloved hands tightening around my scimitar's hilt.
The Shadow Guards waited in silence behind me, six wolves, masked and unflinching, and their black armor caught the pale light of dawn like obsidian shards. We were ready to move, and the cars were rolling, ready to go. The road north to the northern mountains was treacherous ice-bridges, old curses, and ancient wards that could flay a man's soul. But none of it mattered, and Elias was there, and I would cross death itself to bring him home.
