Trouble at the Gates

Dorian and Lillian arrived at the imposing gates of Pyralon, mounted on horseback—a courtesy extended by the generous Weatherbees.

The ancient city loomed above them, its towering walls shrouded in the mysteries it held within.

Guards, vigilant and watchful, manned the entrance, scrutinizing those who sought passage.

Dorian, aware of the potential risks, had earlier advised Lillian to conceal her face beneath the hood of her cloak. Her ethereal beauty, capable of attracting attention from all quarters, warranted caution.

"Halt!" boomed the command from one of the guards. "You there, remove your cloak and reveal your face!" The demand echoed, drawing the eyes of those eager to enter and fellow guards alike.

Lillian glanced at Dorian, who met the guard's gaze with unwavering determination.

"She keeps it on," Dorian declared firmly, his voice carrying the weight of authority.

The guard, skeptical and unyielding, challenged him, "And who are you to decide that?"

"Lord Firebane," Dorian responded, injecting an undeniable authority into his words.

"Lord Firebane," the guard scoffed. The name was known to all, a man close to the king, but the guard, having never seen him before, suspected an imposter.

"That's a bold claim, sir. Do you have anything to prove it? A family crest or a noble blade, perhaps?" the guard probed.

Dorian found himself empty-handed. "No, I don't. But I assure you, I am Lord Firebane," he asserted, the edge of impatience creeping into his tone.

The guard, with a mocking laugh, dismissed his claim. "Then, M'Lord, I must be the King," he jestingly declared, eliciting laughter from the onlookers.

"Don't you fret, M'Lord," the guard continued in his mockery, "let her take off that cloak, and you can still pass through."

Dorian's patience wore thin, reaching a point of no return.

Dorian dismounted his horse with deliberate ease, advancing toward the guard in a manner that exuded an unspoken threat. The guard, sensing the tension, instinctively reached for his sword, ready to defend himself against any potential aggression.

A sly smile curved Dorian's lips as he loomed over the guard, he liked the stark shift from the guard's initial confidence to a growing sense of unease.

"I want to speak to the man in charge," Dorian grunted, hoping that someone higher in rank might recognize him.

"You speak to no one else but me. Now back away, sir, before you regret it," the guard retorted, unsheathing his sword and taking defensive steps backward.

Onlookers gathered, and tension hung thick in the air. Other guards stood poised, ready to intervene if the situation escalated.

Dorian maintained a stern expression, observing the guard's awkward and somewhat foolish sword stance. It became apparent that the guard's bravado exceeded his skill.

In a swift motion, Dorian slapped the sword from the guard's hand, sending it clattering to the ground. The guard, in a state of shock, fumbled to retrieve his weapon, but Dorian's agility surpassed him. Dorian seized him by the neck with an unwavering grip, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that conveyed both authority and danger.

"Believe I'm Lord Firebane now?" Dorian growled, the flames in his eyes reflecting his impatience. Without waiting for an answer, he delivered a forceful punch to the guard's face before releasing his hold.

The guard staggered, struggling to regain his balance, ultimately succumbing to the ground. The immediate response was a flurry of commotion as other guards unsheathed their swords, encircling Dorian.

"I don't want to hurt anyone! This would be easier if you just let me see your supervisor," Dorian warned, a sincere desire to avoid further conflict evident in his tone.

"Restrain him!" one of the guards commanded, a clear attempt to prevent the situation from escalating further.

As the guards prepared to charge, an unexpected interruption came.

"Stop!" Lillian's voice echoed, cutting through the tension. All eyes turned to her as she slowly removed her cloak, unveiling her face.

Gasps filled the air, a collective marvel at her beauty sweeping through the crowd, momentarily diverting attention from the brewing confrontation.

Lillian gracefully dismounted her horse and approached Dorian, who glared at her. Unperturbed, she turned to the stunned guards, who still surrounded Dorian like a pack of uncertain wolves.

"Forgive my... husband," Lillian began, deliberately emphasizing the word 'husband.' Dorian stiffened at the unexpected label. "He's just worried and needs to get me inside the city quickly. You see, I'm very ill, and my ailment is worsening. We urgently need to see a physician," she added, her voice soft and laced with feigned sickness. The vulnerability in her tone had an immediate effect, and sympathy welled up among the guards.

They looked at her with a mix of astonishment and compassion. One of them nodded kindly.

"Alright, Miss," he said with an awkward smile, then casted a disapproving glance at Dorian. "You may pass."

"Thank you, kind sir," Lillian responded with a bright smile that nearly melted the guard's resolve.

Dorian, dumbfounded, could only watch as the situation unfolded.

"Come now, husband. Let's go before you cause any more trouble," Lillian said, regaining her composure as she walked over to her horse and effortlessly mounted it.

Dorian frowned but reluctantly followed suit. The guards, swayed by Lillian's act, allowed them to enter the gate, their initial suspicions replaced by sympathy for the seemingly ailing woman.

"You didn't have to do that. And I told you to keep your cloak on. I could have handled it," Dorian voiced his frustration to Lillian as they traversed through the gates, officially entering the expansive kingdom of Pyralon.

"You can't solve every problem with your fist," Lillian replied dismissively.

"And you can't solve every problem with your beauty," Dorian countered.

"I saved you again! And instead of being grateful, you complain again! You are incredibly aggravating," Lillian spat out.

"And you, stubborn as a mule. You have no idea of the danger you are in, and yet you still put yourself in more danger."

Lillian frowned. "What danger?"

Instead of offering an answer, Dorian issued a command.

"Ride faster."