Embers in the kingdom.

In the heart of the kingdom, the king stood on a grand balcony overlooking the quiet city below. The streets were no longer alive, no merchants calling out to their wares. No more children darting between stalls. The kingdom was at war, at it's edge. The king's attention then was focusing on bringing back his people's freedom. His people's happiness.

His weathered hands clutched a letter. It was from Rhys. It was sent days ago by eagle, informing him of the group's success in capturing a fire beast. The king's expression was a mix of hope and tension as he reread the words, his mind racing with every word occupied the letter.

"They've succeeded," he said quietly to the man beside him, his most trusted man "The beast is captured."

The man nodded, his face solemn. "Hope they return safely, Your Majesty. The Firelands are not forgiving."

As if summoned by the conversation, the door to the balcony swung open, and a young man entered. His golden hair swinging with each stride he took. The prince strode inside the room with a confident, almost smug air, his golden armor gleaming in the sunlight. His sharp features twisted into a skeptical smile as he approached his father.

"Three days have passed," he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. "And still no sign of them. Are you sure they succeeded? Perhaps they're lost or worse."

The king's gaze remained steady as he turned to face his son. "They will come," he said firmly, his voice calm but resolute. "Rhys is not a man to fail. We must be patient."

The prince scoffed, leaning against the stone railing. "Patience won't bring them back, Father. We sent them on a fool's errand, and now we're left waiting, hoping they'll survive. It's pathetic."

The king's expression hardened, his voice taking on an edge. "Mind your words, son. This mission was necessary to ensure the survival of our people. We do not abandon hope so easily."

The prince rolled his eyes, but he said nothing further, choosing instead to stomp out of the room.

The king returned his attention to the letter, his grip tightening slightly. Despite his confidence in Rhys and the group, a small seed of doubt had taken root in his heart. He prayed silently for their safe return, for the success of their mission, and for the future of his kingdom.

-----

Under the shroud of night, caravan rolled into the kingdom, its wheels creaking against the cobblestone streets. The once-empty roads were now lined with wide-eyed townsfolk, their faces illuminated by the warm glow of lanterns hanging from wooden posts. The bell in the central tower rang out, its deep chime echoing through the still air, summoning all to witness the return of their soldiers.

The murmurs of the crowd grew louder as the cage came into view, towering over the carts that carried it. Torches held by soldiers flickered, casting dancing shadows on the iron bars that confined the beast. Gasps rippled through the onlookers as they caught sight of it.

Its fiery eyes glowed in the darkness, scanning the gathered crowd with a quiet, simmering intensity. Smoke curled from its nostrils as it exhaled, and its claws scraped against the iron floor of the cage. Despite its chains and bindings, the beast held a regal air, its posture one of defiance rather than defeat.

The people stepped back instinctively, their awe mingled with terror. Mothers pulled their children closer, and men whispered nervously to one another. It was as if the firelands themselves had sent this creature as a warning, its mere presence was a reminder of the peril that lay beyond their borders.

At the palace gates, the king and queen emerged, their elegant robes catching the moonlight. The king, a tall and broad-shouldered man with a crown that glinted with gemstones, held an unreadable expression. His deep-set eyes scanned the beast, lingering for a moment on its glowing eyes before shifting to the exhausted soldiers standing nearby.

The queen stood beside him, her face pale but composed. Her hand rested lightly on her husband's arm, though her gaze betrayed a flicker of unease. Behind them, the prince stepped forward, his youthful face alight with excitement. His smile was smug, his chest puffed out as if the victory belonged to him alone.

"Well, well," the prince drawled, his voice carrying over the murmurs of the crowd. "It seems our brave soldiers have finally accomplished something worthwhile."

Rhys, standing at the front of the group, stiffened. His armor was scuffed, and a bandage wrapped around his left arm bore testament to the battles they had endured. Yet the prince's words cut deeper than any wound.

"We lost good men to bring this creature back," Rhys said, his tone measured but heavy. "It wasn't just 'something worthwhile.' It was a fight for survival."

The prince waved a dismissive hand, his eyes fixed on the beast. "Spare me the details, Alistair. What matters is that it's here now, and we can finally ensure our kingdom's safety."

The king's gaze flickered between his son and Rhys, but he remained silent. His expression was stern. It was clear he did not share his son's indifference, but neither did he voice his thoughts.

The queen, sensing the tension, stepped forward. "You've all done a great service to the kingdom," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of genuine gratitude. "We are indebted to your bravery."

Rhys bowed his head slightly, though his jaw remained tight. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

The prince, however, seemed uninterested in pleasantries. He turned to one of the guards. "Summon the council. I want a meeting convened immediately. We must decide how to use this beast."

The guard hesitated, glancing at the king for confirmation. The king gave a subtle nod, though his expression remained grave.

The soldiers began to dismount and unload their carts, their movements sluggish with exhaustion. Rhys watched as the cage was carefully maneuvered into the palace courtyard, its iron wheels leaving deep grooves in the ground. The beast shifted slightly within its confines, its fiery eyes darting toward the towering spires of the palace.

Amara stood at the edge of the group, her heart heavy with a mix of emotions. The sight of the kingdom should have filled her with relief, but instead, it only deepened her unease. The mysterious man's warning echoed in her mind: As soon as they get near their kingdom, they will all be dead.

Her fingers brushed against the pendant hidden beneath her tunic. The artifact felt warm against her skin.

Rhys approached her, his expression weary but watchful. "You need a rest" he said quietly. "It is over now."

She shook her head as if denying his words, her gaze drifting back to the beast. It remained still, but its fiery eyes seemed to hold a silent promise, the promise which only when the right time ticked.