Chapter 6: The Imperial College

After arriving in the capital, Adric wasted no time. His heart was set on one destination—The Imperial College, where Isabelle was studying. As he moved through the capital, the grand city seemed both unfamiliar and nostalgic, as though it was a place frozen in time, unchanged in the years since he'd left. His heart quickened as the walls of the Imperial College came into view, a monument to both the intellectual power and the political influence of the empire.

Adric approached the large iron gates of the college, his presence announced only by the soft clinking of his armor. The guards at the gates stood at attention as he passed, but none challenged him. They knew who he was—the emblem on his chest was enough. The Varythar royal family had two distinct emblems: the king's symbol, a representation of political power, and his father's, which symbolized military might. While the two emblems were distinct, they were both unmistakable to those who had served in the imperial army. And in the halls of the Imperial College, where the sons and daughters of noble families came to study, everyone recognized the royal seal.

Adric had no need to announce his identity; the soldiers were well aware of who he was, and his reputation as the son of the Duke was enough to allow him entry. Without hesitation, Adric made his way toward the heart of the college, asking a few soldiers along the way about Isabelle's classes.

The college was a sprawling complex, a place where the most promising minds of the empire came to be trained in statecraft, diplomacy, and the art of war. Adric had once walked these halls himself as a young boy, though his stay had been short-lived before duty had called him to the borders.

He was directed to the lecture hall, where a class was in session. Inside, a teacher stood before a large map, her voice steady as she explained the delicate balance of diplomacy and military strategy. She was speaking about the roles of commanders and kings in wartime decisions, discussing how leaders must make crucial decisions while in the heat of battle. Her words seemed to capture the attention of every student in the room, but one student—Isabelle—appeared lost in her thoughts, her eyes distant.

Adric stood at the entrance of the room, his eyes immediately finding her. She hadn't seen him yet. Isabelle sat at the back of the room, her posture regal even in the simple student uniform she wore. Her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, her face framed by the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the windows.

For a brief moment, Adric hesitated. This was the moment he had dreamed of for so long—returning to her after years of silence, of regret. He had never forgotten her, but the time they had spent apart, the responsibilities he carried, the battles he fought—they had all kept him from reaching out. But now, standing at the threshold of the classroom, he realized that he had waited too long. He needed to take this step, and he needed to do it now.

With a deep breath, he pushed the door open wider and walked inside, his footsteps echoing in the room. All eyes turned to him, the students stunned at the sight of the young man clad in white armor, his every movement exuding power and authority.

Adric's gaze locked with Isabelle's.

"Isabelle," he called out, his voice steady, but carrying the weight of the years they had lost.

The room fell silent, as the students watched the scene unfold in front of them. Isabelle's eyes widened in shock, her hand coming to her chest as though she couldn't believe what she was seeing. For a moment, she didn't move. The world around her seemed to stop, the air thick with tension.

And then, without warning, she was on her feet. Isabelle rushed towards him, her eyes glistening with emotion. Without hesitation, she flung her arms around him, her voice a mixture of relief, anger, and disbelief. "I wasn't going to speak to you," she said, her voice muffled against his chest. "You left me for four years, and never talked to me or responded to my letters. And now you show up—only after I receive the biggest present of all?"

Adric felt a rush of emotions flood through him as he held her. The moment felt surreal. The years of longing, of silence, of the unspoken words—they all came crashing down on him. Isabelle, his first love, was here, in his arms once again, and yet he could feel the weight of their separation. She had every right to be angry, but the joy of being near her again was overwhelming.

The students in the room watched in stunned silence, their eyes wide with disbelief. Isabelle, the campus belle, was known for her poise and grace, admired by everyone. But seeing her, the image of perfection, wrapped in Adric's embrace, stunned them. Whispers began to spread like wildfire—who was this man? What had he done to earn the affections of the most sought-after young woman in the empire?

The teacher, momentarily frozen by the scene, cleared her throat and quickly regained her composure. "Ahem... This is... unexpected," she said, trying to regain control of the classroom. "Perhaps we should resume the lesson."

But no one was paying attention to her. The students were too captivated by the unfolding drama.

Isabelle pulled away slightly, looking up at Adric with tears in her eyes. "Why did you leave me?" she asked, her voice trembling. "You were supposed to be by my side. You promised."

Adric's heart clenched, and for a moment, he couldn't speak. His mind raced, searching for the right words, but none seemed to do justice to the pain of their years apart. Instead, he simply held her close, his voice soft but firm. "I'm sorry, Isabelle. I never meant to hurt you. Duty took me away... but I never forgot you. I've always carried you in my heart."

Isabelle closed her eyes, her body relaxing slightly in his arms. "I've waited so long," she whispered.

And in that moment, time seemed to slow. For Adric, the weight of the past few years melted away. There was only Isabelle, the woman he loved, and the promise of a future they might yet share. The political games, the demons threatening their lands—none of it seemed as important as the woman in his arms.

But even as they stood there, surrounded by curious students and the whispers of the world around them, Adric knew that this reunion, while filled with warmth, would not be without challenges. Their love would have to weather the storms of politics, war, and the pressures of their families. And yet, in this moment, none of that mattered.

As Adric and Isabelle left the classroom, the teacher did not ask any questions. The students were too stunned to speak, and the room quickly returned to a hushed silence. It was as if the world outside the classroom had ceased to exist, and all that remained were the echoes of Adric's return—the silent tension in the air, the beauty of his reunion with Isabelle, and the weight of their shared history.

The two of them walked out of the college building together, the grand courtyard before them alive with the activity of students and faculty, yet it all felt distant. Adric's mind, however, was elsewhere. He had come here to reunite with Isabelle, but the moment he stepped outside, his thoughts drifted toward the past. Memories of battles fought, victories won, and the long, lonely nights where his heart had only known the weight of responsibility.

"Come, Isabelle," Adric said softly, his voice carrying with a quiet sense of command. "I have something to show you."

They walked through the vast college grounds toward the stables, where Adric had left Silverwing. Isabelle's curiosity was piqued as they approached, and when she laid eyes on the majestic steed, her breath caught in her throat.

Silverwing stood tall, a magnificent creature with a coat that gleamed like polished silver, and wings of a silvery white hue that shimmered in the sunlight. His eyes were intelligent and full of life, a reflection of the countless battles they had fought side by side. His powerful build spoke of strength, but there was also an elegance to him, as if he were crafted by the gods themselves.

Isabelle smiled, a sense of awe and admiration evident in her eyes. She had heard the stories about Silverwing—how he was not just a horse but a symbol of Adric's strength and mastery over the battlefield. "Silverwing," she whispered, reaching out to stroke the horse's sleek mane. "He's even more beautiful than I imagined."

Adric smiled, a rare softness in his expression as he watched Isabelle approach Silverwing. "She's more than just a horse to me," he said, his voice filled with affection and reverence for the steed. "If I am the God of War, Silverwing is the God of Horses."

Isabelle raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his words. "God of Horses? I've heard the legends, but I didn't know they were true."

Adric chuckled, his gaze fondly fixed on Silverwing. "Silverwing and I have been through battles that most would never dream of. We've been companions on every campaign, and he's been my constant partner, my confidant. Wherever I go, he follows. And when I need to be away for longer than a few months, he's always by my side."

Silverwing let out a soft snort, as if acknowledging Adric's words, and shifted his weight, waiting for the command to mount.

"Shall we?" Adric asked, his tone light but carrying the weight of unspoken memories. He extended a hand to Isabelle, a playful gleam in his eye.

Without hesitation, Isabelle took his hand, and together they mounted Silverwing. The horse moved with an effortless grace, as if he were born to fly rather than walk. Adric had never been more in tune with a creature in his life, and Isabelle could feel the bond between them—Adric and Silverwing shared something more than loyalty; it was a deep understanding, a unity forged through years of hardship and shared triumphs.

As they rode through the streets of the capital, the city seemed to part before them. People turned to watch in awe as the rider and his horse moved through the streets. It wasn't just Adric who commanded attention, but Silverwing too. The horse's presence was imposing, regal even, and anyone who saw the two of them together understood that this was no ordinary pair.

Isabelle couldn't help but admire how natural the bond between them was. "It's as if you two were made for each other," she said, her voice laced with wonder.

Adric glanced at her, a quiet smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Perhaps we were," he replied softly.

They rode in silence for a while, allowing the city to fade into the background as they made their way toward the outskirts. Adric knew that despite the challenges ahead—political unrest, battles, and the growing tensions in the empire—he could always rely on Silverwing. The horse had been his ally, his protector, and his symbol of unwavering strength.

"Where are we headed?" Isabelle asked after a time, her voice breaking the quiet.

Adric turned his head slightly, his eyes scanning the horizon. "To the old training grounds," he said. "I thought it would be good for you to see it again—the place where I first learned the art of war, where Silverwing and I fought our first battle together."

Isabelle nodded, understanding. There was something profoundly sacred about the ground they would be riding to—a place where memories were made, and legends were born. And as they rode on, with Silverwing carrying them swiftly over the land, Isabelle couldn't help but feel the weight of the past pressing in on her, mingling with the present, creating a sense of inevitability.

This was no longer the young prince she had once known. Adric had changed. He was now a warrior, a man of power, bound to the world of war and duty. Yet, as they rode together, side by side, she couldn't help but wonder: Was it possible for them to bridge the distance that time had created between them?

The answer, Isabelle knew, would take more than just a reunion. It would take the strength of two hearts, bound by love, and the resilience to face whatever the future had in store for them. And as the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the land, Isabelle knew that this was just the beginning of their journey—together, as they rode into the unknown.