Fated by Magic

Fated by Magic

Chapter One: The Unseen War

The war chamber was quiet, save for the faint crackling of torches lining the stone walls. Tristan Everhart stood at the center, his sharp gaze locked onto the large map spread across the table. His fingers traced the worn parchment, studying every marked position.

His kingdom, Eldoria, was preparing for war.

The weight of responsibility pressed against his shoulders. He was their greatest warrior, their strongest leader. But war was never just about strength, it was a game of strategy, and he had to outthink his enemy before their blades ever clashed.

A shadow moved beside him.

"You're staring at that map like it owes you something," Cassian Voss muttered, folding his arms. His amber eyes held a familiar mix of amusement and sharpness. Unlike Tristan, who carried the burden of leadership, Cassian thrived in chaos. He found humor even in the face of bloodshed.

Tristan didn't look up. "Averia is making its move. We have to be ready."

Cassian smirked. "You mean she is making her move."

Tristan finally met his gaze, a flicker of irritation passing through his silver-blue eyes. He knew exactly who Cassian was referring to.

Lena Averius.

The warrior-princess of Veyloria. A woman spoken of in both admiration and fear. Some claimed her touch could heal wounds instantly. Others said she was as ruthless as the battlefield itself.

He had never met her, but her name was one he had heard all his life.

"She's dangerous," Tristan admitted. "Not just because of her magic. She's a warrior first. And that makes her unpredictable."

Cassian chuckled. "Dangerous? Or intriguing?"

Tristan shot him a look, but Cassian only grinned. "I'm just saying everyone talks about you like you're some legend. Maybe she's the same way."

Before Tristan could respond, the heavy doors swung open. A young scout rushed in, breathless.

"Commander! Veyloria's forces are on the move."

Tristan straightened, pushing his thoughts aside.

It was time.

Cassian clapped him on the back. "Guess we'll find out if the stories are true."

Tristan reached for his sword, the blade pulsing with a faint, fiery glow.

"To the battlefield."

Lena's Resolve

Far from Eldoria, deep within the heart of Veyloria, Lena stood on the high balcony of the royal palace. Below, soldiers moved like shadows, preparing for the battle ahead. The air smelled of steel and burning torches.

She inhaled deeply, forcing her mind to steady.

Behind her, a familiar presence approached.

"You're thinking too much again," Chloe Vestdan teased, leaning against the stone railing.

Lena turned, a small smile tugging at her lips. Chloe had been her closest friend since childhood , the one person who truly understood her.

"I can't afford to make mistakes," Lena admitted. "This war… it's different."

Chloe studied her for a moment. "Because of Tristan Everhart?"

Lena stiffened at the name.

She had never met him, yet his reputation preceded him. A warrior undefeated in battle. A man so admired that even his own people spoke of him as if he were more myth than human.

But legends didn't matter on the battlefield.

"I don't care who he is," Lena said firmly. "He bleeds like the rest of us."

Chloe smirked. "Maybe. But he's also the only one who might actually be your match."

Lena didn't respond. Instead, she turned her gaze back to the army below. Her people. The ones she had sworn to protect.

War was coming. And she would not lose.

The war horns blared through the night air.

Chloe's teasing expression faded into something more serious. "It's time."

Lena nodded, gripping the hilt of her twin blades.

"Let's end this."

Final Preparations

As the night deepened, both kingdoms moved toward the inevitable.

In Eldoria, Tristan led his army forward, his flaming sword a beacon in the darkness. Cassian stood beside him, ready for whatever came next.

In Veyloria, Lena marched with her warriors, her heart steady, her mind focused. Chloe flanked her side, silent but unwavering.

Neither Tristan nor Lena knew that fate had already begun weaving their destinies together.

And by the time this war ended, neither of them would ever be the same.