The Day Before War
One day before the war was set to begin, every knight was fully equipped and ready to depart early, so they would not be late for battle the next day. Wonderveil Palace was far busier than usual. The heavy, rhythmic thud of iron‑shod boots echoed through long corridors, while servants hauled supplies and weapons toward the palace gates.
Knights stood clad in polished iron armour, carrying round shields, sharp swords, and long spears. Sunlight glinted brightly off their metal plates as they lined up in the courtyard. Doctors and nurses had also been assigned to accompany the army; they travelled in horse‑drawn wagons, while all knights rode on horseback. Nurses carefully stacked bandages and medicines, and doctors checked stores of fresh water and healing herbs to ensure they had enough for the long journey into the Valley of Death.
Alice was ready too. She wore full plate armour, her blonde hair braided neatly, and a helmet sat ready at her side. A long sword hung securely from her belt. She stood calm and composed, watching over the troops with a serious, steady expression—like someone who had lived and breathed warfare for years.
Celestia stepped forward to address them all.
"Attention, everyone!"
Every knight turned toward her and bowed in deep respect. The morning wind stirred her long white hair. Though her face remained calm, deep in her heart she was heavy with worry for what lay ahead.
"I ask only that you do your very best. If you feel fear or doubt, you are free to fall back. But above all—stay safe, and be careful at every step."
"WE SWEAR IT, YOUR HIGHNESS!" they shouted together, their voices ringing loud and clear against the palace walls.
The knights mounted their horses, gripping the reins and ready to move—yet they waited for Alice to take her place at the head. Horses stamped and tossed their heads, seeming as eager as their riders to march toward the battlefield.
Alice walked over to Celestia.
"Princess Celestia, I promise you I shall defeat your sister Elowen. You are the only one truly worthy to rule this kingdom."
"I place everything in your hands, Alice. Go, and bring us victory."
Alice nodded, swung herself onto her horse, and signalled for the gates to open. The heavy iron doors groaned and rumbled as they swung wide. She rode out first, leading the long, orderly column of knights behind her. Clouds of fine dust rose from the ground as hundreds of hooves moved in unison. Celestia stood alone at the palace entrance, watching them go until the last soldier vanished from sight.
As the army passed through the city streets, crowds lined the roads to cheer them on. Small children waved excitedly; adults shouted words of courage and hope.
"Good luck to you all!"
"May you return safe and victorious!"
"Remember—this is for Wonderveil!"
Knights waved back, some smiling proudly as they felt the people's support, while others hid the cold fear they carried inside. Alice rode at the front, silent and watchful. She could hardly wait to face Elowen. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, filled not with fear, but with burning determination.
At the Old Castle
Far away, Elowen stood in the ancient, gloomy fortress that was now her home. Moss clung thickly to the weathered stone walls, and heavy deep‑red curtains swayed slowly in the wind. She wore shining white armour, her red hair loose and flowing, a sharp sword strapped to her waist. She stood before a tall window, gazing out at the darkening, cloud‑filled sky.
"Elowen?" Ashveil called softly, stepping into the room.
"Yes, Ashveil?"
"Are you truly going to face them alone?" he asked, his voice thick with worry.
"Do not fear for me," Elowen replied with absolute confidence. "They may have numbers and armour, but they have clearly forgotten exactly who I am." She looked at him with unwavering eyes.
Ashveil smiled gently. He was a man of great wisdom and learning, but he had never once held a sword in his life. That was exactly why he served Elowen as her most trusted advisor and companion. Though he could not fight, he vowed to stay at her side until the very end.
"I must go now," Elowen said quietly. "If I do not return… then you will know I was defeated."
"Do not speak like that!" Ashveil cried, and pulled her into a tight embrace.
Elowen hesitated for a moment, then slowly wrapped her arms around him in return.
"Very well. I will come back. Trust me, Ashveil—I promise you that."
He let go and gave her a brave, loving smile. Elowen turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing through the long, empty corridors until her shadow finally disappeared from his view.
Elowen walked alone toward the Valley of Death, crossing a vast, barren stretch of land where nothing grew but dry, cracked earth. The sky above was thick with dark, heavy clouds, and the wind blew fiercely, whipping her red hair straight back. She walked with steady, calm steps, even though the silence all around felt heavy and menacing. This land was rarely travelled by anyone—no trees, no flowers, no life at all, only the sound of howling wind keeping her company.
Suddenly, a great shadow fell over her, blocking out the sunlight. The beating of massive wings echoed loudly through the air. She looked up to see Vaelrith, her dragon companion, descending toward her. The ground trembled slightly as the huge creature landed, sending clouds of dust swirling all around.
Vaelrith had scales of deep, glossy black and sharp, glowing golden eyes; warm breath drifted slowly from his open jaws. He lowered his great body so he could speak to her more easily.
"Your Highness… are you truly certain you wish to face them all alone?" the dragon asked, his voice deep and rumbling, thick with worry. "I can go with you if you only ask."
Elowen stopped walking and looked him in the eye. "Of course I am certain, Vaelrith. I am strong enough to defeat them all."
"Let me stand beside you," Vaelrith urged gently.
"I am sorry, my old friend… but you cannot come. There is someone there who knows exactly how to strike you down and sever your head from your body."
"Is it Alice?" Vaelrith shifted his long tail restlessly across the dry ground. It was clear he hated even hearing that name. "Is she truly so powerful that I cannot stand against her?"
"I believe she knows exactly how to defeat you," Elowen answered seriously. "Please, go back. You are the sacred guardian of Wonderveil, and your duty is to protect the kingdom. Do not worry about me—I will be fine."
Vaelrith gazed at her for a long moment, his golden eyes filled with reluctance and fear at leaving her to fight alone.
"Very well," he said at last, though his tone was heavy. "But I give you this warning: if you fall, or if you do not return alive… I will not hesitate to unleash my full wrath and destroy Wonderveil completely."
Elowen sighed softly, shaking her head. "I have told you again and again—do not drag innocent people who know nothing into this conflict. Promise me you will not harm them no matter what happens to me."
"I shall take my leave now, Princess Elowen," Vaelrith rumbled. "I still hope you will change your mind and let me fight by your side."
He spread his massive wings, and powerful gusts of wind swept across the land as he prepared to take flight. Then he rose into the sky, soaring higher and higher until his great form faded into the dark clouds above.
Elowen watched him go until he was completely out of sight. Then, she turned her face once more toward the desolate horizon and continued her journey to the Valley of Death—walking entirely alone, with only her own courage and strength to rely on.
..............
The sun climbed higher into the sky as Alice and her knights finally arrived at the Valley of Death.
This was a barren wasteland, utterly devoid of life or greenery—only dry, cracked earth stretched as far as the eye could see. Hot winds blew steadily across the empty ground, kicking up clouds of fine dust every time the horses moved. The silence was so deep that every hoofbeat echoed clearly throughout the whole valley.
Alice looked around at the vast, dusty plain. Several knights gripped their weapons tightly, their eyes darting nervously in every direction. They were all waiting, terrified yet expectant, for a dragon to appear at any moment.
Then Alice saw her: a lone figure in white armour, her bright red hair flowing in the wind, walking steadily toward them. It was Elowen. She came completely alone, showing not a trace of fear despite facing a whole army of knights. She carried only her sword.
Alice frowned sharply. Elowen had come without her dragon.
"Princess Elowen—where is your dragon?" Alice called out loudly.
Elowen stopped walking. She looked calmly at the mass of knights who had already drawn their weapons and stood ready to strike. The wind caught her red hair and swept it back, yet her expression remained perfectly composed, without the slightest sign of worry or hesitation.
The knights began dismounting, swords raised, ready to rush her at once.
"Do not worry about my dragon, Alice," Elowen replied coolly.
Alice pressed her lips together in frustration.
Without waiting for any order or signal, the knights charged forward together.
"ATTACK!"
"HEY, WAIT—STOP!" Alice shouted, but her voice was drowned out by the roar of men running and the clash of armour. They were too eager and wild with excitement to listen to her commands.
Elowen stood motionless as they came rushing toward her—just one woman against dozens of armed warriors. Dust swirled around her feet as they raised their swords and struck.
Elowen moved with lightning speed. She stepped aside, grabbed the first knight's arm, and swung him around, slamming him hard onto the dry ground. He cried out in pain as his back hit the earth.
More knights surrounded her, striking from every side. Elowen did not even draw her blade; she fought only with the sword still sheathed in its scabbard. She parried every heavy blow with the hard wood and leather of the sheath, counter‑attacking with sharp kicks, punches, and throws.
One knight tried to attack from behind, but Elowen spun instantly and delivered a powerful kick straight to his stomach, sending him flying backwards. Another lunged forward with his sword pointed at her chest—she dodged easily and struck him hard across the back with the flat of her scabbard, knocking him off balance.
"Princess Elowen! Do not think we are weak just because you refuse to draw your blade!" one knight yelled angrily.
Elowen narrowed her eyes slightly. "Very well then."
She pulled her sword free. The sharp steel glinted brightly in the harsh sunlight. She darted forward and struck the nearest knight hard on the back of his neck with the heavy hilt of her sword. He fell to his knees, groaning in agony.
Suddenly another knight tried to ambush her from the side. Elowen swung her sword so fast it was barely visible; his own weapon went flying from his hands. The very tip of her blade grazed his cheek, leaving a thin line of blood trickling down his face.
He stood frozen in shock, staring at the red stain.
"I apologise—I did not mean to hurt you," Elowen said calmly.
Still they kept coming, wave after wave of attackers. But every single strike was deflected, every move countered with speed and precision. The knights grew tired and breathless, their movements slowing, while Elowen remained as fresh and steady as when she began. And throughout it all, she did not kill a single man—she only disarmed, subdued, or knocked them unconscious, sparing every life.
From a distance, Alice watched with clenched teeth and a face full of frustration and disbelief.
"Where is that dragon…?" she whispered to herself, her voice tight with confusion and rising anger.