Chapter Timebound Legacy
Rosche found herself transported back in time, alone in a frozen-in-time tavern that echoed with the whispers of long-forgotten tales.
As she surveyed her surroundings, a revelation unfolded in her mind like the unfurling petals of a long-forgotten bloom. “Hold on,” she murmured, connecting the temporal dots. “If I’ve been transported back to where Hargan cast the spell, he must be in the palace at this moment, advising King Altair.”
In this unfamiliar timeline, Rosche existed without identification, a home, or familiarity. Undeterred, she resolved to walk to the opulent palace, guided by the hope that Hargan could assist in adjusting to this temporal displacement.
With no past and no place to call her own, Rosche’s journey through the cobblestone streets reflected her determination to find Hargan. It was not only a quest to understand the mysterious circumstances of their temporal leap but also a search for a beacon of familiarity in this unfamiliar era.
In the opulent halls of Celestoria, bathed in the sun’s warm glow, Queen Melisandre cradled the newborn Terrence. The joyous atmosphere, however, was disrupted by Hargan, the king’s advisor, bearing news of an impending battle with the Darkbane tribe.
Hargan’s furrowed brow spoke volumes of the gravity of the situation as he addressed the king.
Hargan’s voice cut through the regal air, laden with urgency, “Your Majesty, I regret to bring news of impending conflict on this joyous day. The Darkbane tribe advances, and we must prepare for battle.”
Seated on his throne, King Altair listened intently, his gaze shifting from the newborn in his queen’s arms to the advisor before him.
King Altair’s response held a mix of paternal concern and kingly authority, “Hargan, battles can wait. Today, we celebrate the birth of my son. What could be so dire that it cannot wait until tomorrow?”
Hargan, maintaining his composure, responded with measured urgency, “Your Majesty, I share your sentiment, but time is of the essence. The Darkbane tribe won’t wait for joyous occasions. We need to act swiftly.”
Torn between the responsibilities of the kingdom and the newfound joy of fatherhood, the king sighed deeply.
King Altair’s command was both regal and compassionate, “Melisandre, take Terrence and excuse yourself for a moment. Hargan and I need to discuss this matter.”
Understanding the gravity of the situation, the queen handed the newborn to a nursemaid and gracefully left the room.
Alone with his advisor, King Altair turned his attention back to Hargan.
The king’s inquiry was direct, “Speak plainly, Hargan. What threat do the Darkbane pose, and how soon must we address it?”
Hargan’s response was resolute, “Your Majesty, the Darkbane forces are formidable, and they approach swiftly. Our scouts report that a confrontation is inevitable within the fortnight.”
A shadow cast over King Altair’s features as he contemplated the difficult decisions that lay ahead.
The king’s decision was a proclamation of duty, “Very well, Hargan. We shall celebrate today, but tomorrow we prepare for the challenges that come with the dawn. Let the commanders know we convene at sunrise.”
Acknowledging the king’s decision, Hargan bowed and exited the hall, leaving King Altair to grapple with the complexities of ruling a kingdom in a time of both joy and impending strife.