The Prince’s Gambit

The scent of death still lingered in Eldermere.

Even after the bodies had been buried, after the blood had dried into dark patches on the dirt roads, after the broken barricades had been patched with whatever scraps of wood could be salvaged—the village still felt like a graveyard.

Aric stood at the edge of the village, staring at the horizon where the morning mist clung to the earth like ghostly fingers. His hands rested on the pommel of his sword, the weight of the weapon grounding him as his mind raced. They weren't safe. Not yet.

The attack had been a warning. The rift was awake. The world around them was changing.

And worse, the villagers still didn't trust him.

Even now, as he turned his head, he saw them watching. Some whispered behind cupped hands. Others avoided his gaze entirely, choosing instead to focus on their work.

Only a few looked at him with admiration.

Lira was one of them. She stood near the well, arms crossed, her sharp eyes scanning the village as if daring someone to speak against him. Garrick, however, remained on the opposite side of the square, his expression cold and unreadable.

Tension ran through the air like a stretched wire, ready to snap at the smallest provocation.

And then, it did.

The distant thunder of hooves shattered the uneasy quiet.

----

Heads snapped toward the eastern road, where a small procession of riders emerged from the mist.

Six men on horseback, dressed in dark cloaks lined with embroidered silver patterns, their boots caked in dried mud from the journey. At their head rode a man clad in polished leather armor, his golden sash denoting him as a representative of nobility.

Aric's grip on his sword tightened.

So it begins.

Eldermere was not a free village. It fell under the jurisdiction of Lord Edric Vallis, a minor noble with just enough power to make himself a problem. If word had spread about the attack—and it certainly had—then this could mean only one thing.

The nobility wanted to know who had fought off the wolves.

The lead rider halted his horse in the village square, his piercing green eyes scanning the gathered villagers before landing on Aric.

"Who commands here?" the man demanded. His voice carried the crisp, practiced authority of someone used to being obeyed.

Silence.

Then Elder Mara stepped forward, her aged face set in stone. "I do."

The nobleman turned his gaze to her. "Then you will answer to Lord Vallis. He demands to know why his lands have been disturbed by such unnatural violence. Our scouts reported strange occurrences near the rift—monsters that should not be. And now, we hear rumors of a man who commands them."

His eyes flicked back to Aric, and his lips curled into something between curiosity and suspicion.

Aric met his gaze without flinching. "If you're looking for answers, speak to the dead," he said. "They'll tell you how many of my people bled to keep this land from falling apart."

The noble's mouth twitched, amusement flashing briefly in his expression. "Your people?"

The murmur that spread through the villagers was immediate. Some stiffened, as if offended by the claim. Others simply waited.

The nobleman studied Aric, tapping his gloved fingers against his saddle. "You speak as if you rule here."

A slow smirk pulled at Aric's lips. "Should I?"

Lira let out a short, quiet laugh, but most of the villagers weren't laughing. Garrick shifted, his fingers flexing against the shaft of his spear.

The nobleman exhaled through his nose, clearly unimpressed. "Your arrogance will not serve you well, stranger. Lord Vallis expects an explanation for this chaos, and should he find it unsatisfactory—" He tilted his head slightly. "—he will take control of this village to ensure order is maintained."

Aric's smirk vanished.

So that was the game.

Lord Vallis wasn't just here for answers. He was looking for an excuse to seize Eldermere for himself.

Aric's mind worked quickly. The village's defenses were still weak. If Vallis brought his forces, they wouldn't stand a chance.

The realization settled in his gut like cold steel.

Eldermere wasn't just fighting monsters anymore. They were about to be swallowed by the politics of men.

He needed to think. He needed time.

So he did the only thing he could.

He played along.

"Then let's not waste time," Aric said, stepping forward. "I'll explain everything."

The nobleman raised a brow but said nothing.

Kael, standing off to the side, muttered under his breath, "This should be fun."

----

The village hall was quiet, save for the occasional creak of wood and the muffled conversation of the noble riders outside.

Aric stood near the head of the table, arms crossed, as he laid out the "truth."

"We were attacked by the wolves," he said. "But they weren't just animals. They were… corrupted. Controlled by something inside the rift."

Elder Mara nodded in agreement. "We have never seen such creatures before."

The nobleman, who had introduced himself as Sir Alden Rowe, leaned back in his chair. "And yet, you fought them off."

Aric met his gaze evenly. "We did what was necessary."

Alden's fingers drummed against the table. "Word spreads quickly, stranger. They say you commanded the battlefield like a king without a crown. That you killed the wolves with nothing but your will."

Silence.

Aric knew his next words could shape the entire future of the village.

If he denied his role, he might lose what little trust he had gained. If he claimed too much authority, he might alienate those who still doubted him.

So he chose his words carefully.

"I'm no king," he said slowly. "But I am a survivor. And I will do whatever it takes to keep this village standing."

Alden studied him, then let out a slow, amused chuckle. "A dangerous answer."

"Only if you make it one."

A long pause. Then Alden rose from his seat, straightening his cloak. "Lord Vallis will not interfere with Eldermere—for now. But he expects this village to remain under his control. If things continue to spiral, he will take action."

Aric inclined his head slightly. "Then let's hope things don't spiral."

Alden smirked. "Indeed."

Without another word, he turned and strode toward the door. His men followed, their boots thudding against the wooden floor.

The moment they were gone, Lira let out a slow breath. "Well. That was… close."

Kael grinned. "You handled that well. Almost as if you were a king."

Aric exhaled. "Shut up, Kael."

But as he looked around the room, he realized something.

Not everyone resented the idea.

Some of the villagers were watching him differently now.

Not just as a fighter.

Not just as a survivor.

But as a leader.

And that was a dangerous thought.