The arena of King City had never been so loud. Thousands of voices rolled across the massive stone stadium like thunder trapped in a bowl. Nobles filled the marble galleries. Merchants leaned over the wooden rails. Soldiers crowded the lower stands. Even servants had abandoned their duties just to steal a glimpse of the spectacle.
On the Golden Throne was king Derion Dragarian. And surrounding him were the Wardens of all nine kingdoms.
Above them all, banners snapped in the wind. Black banners with the crimson dragon of House Dragarian.
It was the week of Prince Drexo's engagement, and as tradition demanded, the kingdom celebrated with the Knight Game of the Seven, the fiercest tournament in all of Astarous.
Warriors had arrived from every corner of the realm. From the frozen plains of Snowland. From the stormy cliffs of Cliffland. From the golden valleys of Iron Valley.
Even the sea warriors of Ashford, and men of all Nine kingdoms had sent their champions.
They came for glory. They came for gold. But most of all, they came for the honor of standing victorious before the dragon throne.
Steel rang across the field. Two armored knights thundered past each other on horseback, lances leveled like spears of lightning.
The crowd leaned forward. The horses collided with explosive force.
CRACK!
One lance shattered. The other struck clean. The losing knight was thrown violently from his saddle. He hit the sand with a thud that made half the arena wince.
A roar erupted from the stands.
Lord Exmond Woodland of the North pointed to the warrior. "That warrior is good." Robert Rendell, Warden of Iron Valley nodded. "He seems to be fighting with a unique style."
Another victory. But it was not the fallen knight the crowd watched. It was the silent warrior sitting calmly on the black horse at the center of the arena.
The mysterious knight had already defeated three opponents. And something about the way this one fought made the crowd restless. There was no hesitation. No wasted movement.
Each strike was brutal and precise. The warrior rode like someone born in war. High above the arena, Prince Drexo Dragarian leaned forward in his seat.
He rested his elbows on the marble railing of the royal balcony, eyes narrowed with interest.
Beside him sat his elder brother, Prince Dereek Dragarian, heir to the Golden Throne of Astarous.
"Another victory," Dereek muttered. "That makes four."
Drexo didn't answer. He was watching the knight below. Something about the fighter felt different, as if he was changing the dynamics of how the game has been fought for centuries.
The armor was plain. No family crest. No colors. Just dark steel polished enough to reflect the sunlight.
"Who is he?" Drexo finally asked. Dereek shrugged. "If I knew, I would have wagered gold already."
Below them, the arena master raised a hand. "Next challenger!"
Another knight rode forward. Sir Calder of Westmoor. The man was massive. Broad shoulders, thick arms, and a reputation for breaking bones with his lance.
The crowd cheered loudly. Now this would be a real fight. Calder lowered his visor and saluted the royal balcony.
Then he turned his horse toward the silent warrior. Across the field, the mysterious knight did the same.
The two riders faced each other from opposite ends of the arena. Dust swirled between them.
The crowd quieted..Even the wind seemed to pause. The arena master's voice rang out. "Ride!"
The horses exploded forward. Hooves hammered the earth. Two lances lowered like arrows aimed at destiny.
Closer, and closer. The impact came like thunder.
CRACK!
Wood splintered into the air. Calder's lance shattered against the other knight's shield. But the mysterious warrior's lance struck the center of Calder's armor.
The massive knight was lifted from his saddle as if struck by a falling tree. He crashed onto the sand with a heavy groan.
The arena erupted. Gasps, and shouts. Then applause like a storm.
"Five victories in a row," Robert whispered. Edmond chuckled. "What kingdom is he from?"
The unknown knight lowered the broken lance and calmly rode back to the center of the field.
Drexo let out a slow breath. "That was not luck."
Dereek chuckled. "No. That was skill."
Below them, Sir Calder struggled to stand. Two guards helped drag him from the arena.
The crowd roared louder now. People were beginning to whisper. Who was this warrior? Where had he come from?
The arena master lifted his voice again.."Next challenger!"
A tall knight rode forward. Sir Roderic of Ashford. One of the finest lancers in the southern kingdoms. The crowd buzzed with excitement.
"He won't win this one," Dereek said. Drexo shook his head. "You can not be so sure."
Dereek chuckled. "I can because I have witnessed the knight fight before. No one has ever defeated him in the battle of the seven before now."
Roderic spun his lance once in the air before lowering it. The mysterious knight remained silent. Still, and watching.
The signal came again. "Ride!"
The horses charged. Dust exploded beneath their hooves. The distance closed in seconds. The crowd held its breath.
CRACK!
Another collision. Another explosion of splintered wood. Roderic's lance shattered harmlessly against the knight's armor.
The mysterious warrior's strike slammed into Roderic's chest. The Ashford knight flew from his saddle.
The crowd exploded again.
Drexo turned to his brother Dereek. "I thought you said he won't win?"
Dereek didn't respond, his eyes remained fixed on the mysterious Knight. "Six victories in a row."
Now people were standing. Shouting. Pointing toward the mysterious champion. Even the nobles leaned forward with excitement. Prince Drexo felt his heart beat faster.
This was no ordinary fighter. There was something graceful in the way the warrior moved.
Almost elegant.
Not the clumsy brutality most knights relied upon.
"Final challenger!" the arena master shouted. A hush fell across the stadium. One final knight rode forward.
Sir Bannon of Iron Valley. Champion of the royal guard.
The man had won the Knight Game two years in a row. A murmur rippled through the crowd. Now the mystery warrior faced the best fighter in King City.
Sir Bannon lowered his lance slowly. Across the arena, the unknown knight mirrored the motion. Drexo leaned even closer to the railing.
Something inside him whispered that this moment mattered. He did not know why. The arena master raised the red flag.
"Ride!"
The horses surged forward like arrows released from a bow. The air filled with dust. The crowd screamed. Bannon leaned low over his horse, lance steady.
The mysterious knight remained upright. Calm, and perfectly balanced.
They collided in the center of the field. The sound was enormous.
CRACK!
Both lances shattered. But only one rider stayed mounted. Sir Bannon was hurled through the air. He struck the ground hard and rolled across the sand before lying still.
For a moment the arena went completely silent. No cheers. No shouting. Just stunned disbelief.
Then the realization spread. The unknown knight had defeated every challenger.
The crowd exploded. People jumped to their feet..Soldiers slammed fists against shields. Women waved scarves in the air.
"Champion!"
"Champion!"
"Champion!"
The roar rolled through the stadium like thunder. The arena master stepped forward, raising both hands.
"Remove your helmet, champion!" The crowd cheered louder. They began to chant.
"Helmet! Helmet! Helmet!"
Even Drexo, and Dereek found themselves shouting with them. He wanted to see the face behind that armor.
Slowly, the mysterious knight dismounted. The warrior stood at the center of the arena. Sunlight glinted off the dark steel.
The champion reached up. Hands grasped the helmet. For a moment the entire arena seemed to hold its breath.
Then the helmet came off. Long dark hair spilled down like a river of night.
The crowd froze.
Someone gasped. Dereek whispered in shock.
"A woman!"
Robert stood up, smiled and surprised Mixed together in his face. "Maria!" He screamed.
Edmond clenched his fist. "Stubborn girl, I warned her not to behave manly." He bites his lips. "Yet here she was competing with seasoned warriors on the trial of the Seven."
The silence shattered into stunned chaos. "What?! Did a woman just defeat the best of all Nine kingdoms?."
"How was this possible?" Dereek lamented.
The champion lifted her head proudly. Her face was young, and beautiful.
No older than seventeen. But her eyes burned with the fierce confidence of a warrior who feared no one.
"Maria Woodland. Daughter of Snowland," the royal clerk'S voice echoed all through the arena.
The crowd erupted into even louder applause. Shock turned quickly into admiration. People screamed her name. Even the soldiers of the royal guard pounded their shields in respect.
High above the arena, Prince Drexo felt his breath leave his chest. He had never seen her before. Yet something about her presence struck him like lightning.
She stood alone in the sand, armor scratched, hair dancing in the wind, while thousands roared her name.
Maria lifted her sword and saluted the royal balcony. Her eyes traveled upward across the marble seats.
Across the banners. Across the nobles. And then, they stopped.
They met Drexo's. Their eyes met. Drexo, smiling. For a moment the entire world seemed to shrink.
The noise faded. The crowd disappeared. There was only the distance between them. The dragon prince. And the warrior girl who had just conquered his arena.
Their eyes locked on each other slightly. An unheard promise echoed in the air. "We will be born again, and in that lifetime, I will love and stay with you till the end.
Both of them didn't hear the promise, but they felt it. "Why do I feel I know her when we are just seeing each other for the first time?"
Drexo felt something strange stir inside him. Curiosity, mixed with admiration.
Something deeper he could not yet name. Maria held his gaze for a heartbeat longer. Then she smiled. Not the shy smile of a noble lady. But the bold grin of a warrior who had just defeated the greatest knights of the realm.
The crowd cheered even louder. Prince Dereek laughed beside his brother. "Well," he said, clapping Drexo on the shoulder. "That explains the grace."
Drexo didn't answer. His eyes remained fixed on the girl in the arena. Something about her had already begun to pull him in. Not just admiration, but felt like fate: a promise made in another lifetime.
He did not know it yet. that single moment. That silent meeting of eyes across the arena, had just changed the fate of Nine kingdoms.
Dereek saw the look on his younger brother's face. He hit him. "Stop looking at her in that manner, this is your engage ceremony."