Written by: Chris Chret © 2026
The evening swallowed the horizon.
Alaric stood by the shore while the men prepared the ships.
Ropes were pulled tight.
Sails were lowered.
Steel scraped against wood.
The scent of salt and tar mixed with something deeper—
a premonition.
When they set sail, the sea was calm.
Too calm.
The sun rose behind them when they were already halfway there.
Ahead—Dravion.
The goal.
And then…
From the right side—
sails.
Many sails.
They attacked suddenly.
— AMBUSH! — a shout rang out.
The ships came like shadows from the mist.
At their head—
Edric.
He led the attack.
His crew.
Men from Grimreach Isle.
From the other side—
more ships.
They were led by
Eryndor Frostwyn, Guardian of the Depths.
Flaming arrows flew from afar.
The sky ignited.
The ships of Serpentis burned.
Men fell into the water, screamed, disappeared beneath the waves.
One of the ships—
the one belonging to Lord Bromek Virell—
was attacked directly.
They fought on the deck.
Steel against steel.
Blood across the planks.
When the battle dissolved into chaos—
Edric saw the ship he did not expect.
Alaric's ship.
A coincidence.
But it did not seem like one.
Fate brought them together.
Two friends.
One who ran.
One who stayed.
Edric leapt onto the deck with his men.
Alaric turned.
Their eyes met.
— Alaric…? — Edric's voice trembled.
— Yes — Alaric replied coldly. — Edric, you're alive?
He measured him with his gaze.
— I didn't recognize you. You've changed.
And he attacked.
Without hesitation.
Edric barely defended himself.
He did not expect it.
— It didn't have to be this way! — Edric shouted while defending himself. — You're forcing me to fight!
Alaric smiled wildly.
He attacked again.
Edric defended.
He retreated.
He did not want to strike.
But the men around him were falling.
Alaric killed everything before him.
That was enough.
Edric lost his temper.
— Enough! — he shouted and attacked.
Spear against sword.
Alaric threw knives—
he ran out.
He drew his bow.
Fired an arrow.
Edric hurled the spear—
the bow flew from Alaric's hands.
Both drew swords.
Close combat.
This was a fight that would be remembered.
Edric cut Alaric across the left arm.
Blood.
Alaric fell to his knees.
Edric extended his hand.
— Let's end this fight, my friend.
Alaric took the hand.
Stood up.
And shoved Edric off the ship.
Without a word.
He ran.
Grabbed the bow.
Arrow.
One.
A man fell.
Another.
A second fell.
He defended the ship alone.
He fired at the other ships.
Every arrow—death.
The men began to whisper.
The Black Archer. That was how he earned the name.
Edric climbed back onto the ship.
He reached him through bodies.
They met again.
This time—
without restraint.
Edric overwhelmed him.
Alaric fell to his knees.
Without hesitation, Edric struck him in the head and he fell.
Darkness.
The last thing he saw was the sky—and Edric's face.
The ship was defeated.
The Other Side of the Battle
On his own ship, Lord Bromek fought desperately.
Eryndor was there personally.
When the ship fell,
Bromek and a few knights boarded a boat and fled.
Eryndor hurled a spear.
Bromek shoved one knight in front of him.
The spear pierced the knight—
Bromek pushed him into the water.
Several ships of Serpentis were still holding on.
Among them—
Vorthan Greymark, the Knight of Darkness.
The king's personal guard.
He was winning.
And then—
from the front came ships from Dravion.
Aurel and Nocten Thornevald.
The Night Twins.
Vorthan smiled.
He loved this.
This time—
to the death.
He leapt onto their ship with his knights.
The battle was brutal.
The twins were not synchronized.
They did not fight as a team.
Vorthan threw them aside.
Struck them down.
Nocten attacked furiously.
Aurel shouted at him to stick to the plan.
Nocten did not listen.
He grew tired.
Aurel jumped from behind.
Grabbed Vorthan by the neck.
Vorthan drew a knife.
Stabbed the muscle in Aurel's leg.
Aurel fell.
Nocten swung—
slashed Vorthan's back.
Vorthan turned.
Aurel rose and drove his sword into Vorthan's head.
The blade came out of his mouth.
Vorthan fell.
The knights of Serpentis began to flee.
Water.
Boats.
Blood stained the sea.
Nocten cut off his head.
Threw it into one of the boats.
He shot all of them—
except one.
A message.
Nocten raised his sword.
His voice echoed over the water, cold and sharp.
— Leave none alive.
No one asked.
No one hesitated.
The archers lined up along the edges of the ships.
In the water—
men of Serpentis swam.
Their arms broke from exhaustion.
Some screamed.
Some begged.
The arrows flew.
One by one—
the bodies disappeared beneath the surface.
Blood spread.
The sea lost its color.
Fire consumed the ships.
The sails burned.
The ropes snapped.
The planks cracked.
The decks were covered with dead bodies.
Blood.
Steel.
Ash.
The water beneath them—
red.
Mixed with salt and death.
The sea was no longer calm.
The sea remembered.
Dravion prevailed.
Serpentis was defeated.
Alaric—
captured.
The king's protector—
dead.
Only Bromek escaped, along with a few boats full of knights.
Aurel found his brother.
— What was the plan? — he shouted. — Why didn't you follow it?
— Since when do you make the plans? — Nocten shot back. — This is a battle.
— Improvisation could have cost us everything! — Aurel said. — You make the same mistakes as father!
Nocten shoved him.
— WE WON!
They were separated.
Aurel did not respond.
He looked at the sea.
The fire was still burning on the ships.
Bodies drifted between the waves.
Victory.
That was how it was supposed to look.
But in his chest—
something weighed heavily.
"Is this what victory looks like?"
he thought.
"Why does it taste like defeat?"
He tightened his grip on the sword.
And for the first time that day—
he thought the price might have been too high.
— Let's go celebrate — said one of the knights.
Silence.
They arrived in the capital, Dravion Prime, and celebrated.
The two stood apart.
They looked at one another.
Between them—
victory.
And something that had yet to break.
End of Chapter 24