After the awards, the stories began.
Garrick Blaze stood first. He was leaner than he'd been two months ago, scars cutting across his jaw and one hand wrapped in linen. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. Every lord in the hall had heard the Firemane had held, but few knew how.
"My son Eryn," Garrick began, speaking to the boy who sat wide-eyed beside Thane Stonefist, "listen well. The blood of Ardentia runs through the deeds you'll hear tonight."
He paused, took a drink, and the hall leaned in.
"Redkeep Pass was never meant to hold. Valen Ashencrow had thousands . Ravenna had the dead. We had a thousand Firemane knights , three hundred armoured knights and two hundred blackwood riders. The first night, they hit us with siege towers. We burned them. , they sent the rotborn. We killed them until our arms shook. Then Ravenna herself walked the ridge. She didn't attack. She watched. She wanted us to break on our own.
Maric Oakenshield bled from a dozen cuts and still stood. Ryker Blackwood fought with a broken spear and a knife in his teeth. Thane Stonefist sent word he was holding Dragon's Teeth, but we knew if Redkeep fell, his line would fall too. So we held.
,
the undead came from the south. We thought it was over. Then the horns answered from the north. Orion Nightwalker's Dark Legion hit Valen's flank. Keiren Vexar's phoenix fire hit Lilith. And Cyrin Darkfire cut the reserve. Valen himself rode for the breach. I threw my axe. It took his horse. We met on the stone. Fire against shadow. I thought I'd die there. But I didn't. Valen did.
We held. Not because we were the strongest. Because we had nowhere else to go."
Garrick sat down to a roar. He didn't smile. He didn't need to.
Thane Stonefist rose next. He was broad, older, his beard shot through with grey. He carried a maul that had cracked a hundred helms.
"My lords, my ladies," he said, voice like stone grinding. "Dragon's Teeth was not Redkeep. We didn't have walls. We had ridges and ravines and the blood of my ancestors in the ground. The Nightstalker horde came from the Greyfen. They didn't fight like men. They moved like wolves. Fast. Silent. They wanted to cut Ardentia off from Eldermere, to starve us while Valen took Redkeep.
Thane sat, and the hall drank to Dragon's Teeth.
Kael stood again, but this time not as king. As marshal. He called forward those who'd been made lords that night.
"Orion Nightwalker," Kael said, "you never asked for land. You asked for a fight. Now you have both. The town of ferrymen's crossing a and it's surrounding land are yours now . Keep them."
Orion stepped forward, took the deed, and said nothing. He never did.
"Kaelith Blackblood," Kael said, "you fought for Ardentia though your blood is not of it. You earned it. The burning plains west of Erenhall are yours. Hold them."
Kaelith knelt, then rose, eyes bright.
The feast moved into the late hours. Wine loosened tongues.
At a side table, Cyrin Darkfire sat with Kaelith and Orion. Cyrin poured wine, dark as blood.
"You didn't have to come back," Cyrin said to Orion. "You could've walked away after Ravenna."
The rest of the lords didnot understand what cyrin meant with that comment on that table apart from orion his past was only known to Cyrin darkfire.
Orion swirled his cup. "I told you ten years ago, Cyrin. I don't walk away."
Kaelith laughed. "And now you're a lord. Try not to ruin it."
Cyrin smirked. "Speak for yourself. I've served Harlen since I was sixteen. He'll retire and I'll still be here, cutting throats in the dark."
Harlen, sitting with Keiren near the high table, overheard and called over. "Cyrin, if you cut one more throat in my wine cellar, I'll make you steward."
Cyrin raised his cup. "I'd rather die."
Keiren leaned toward Harlen. "Is it always like this?"
Harlen took a long drink. "No. Usually someone's bleeding. Tonight, we get wine. Enjoy it."