The Lost Prince

"Haaa..."

The 21-year-old man's breaths came in heavy bursts as he swung his sword towards an unfortunate enemy. With a swift and fluid motion, he severed the head of his foe. The grim act sent blood splattering in every direction, dying white snow in red and the lifeless body twisted before him in snow melting mud. Despite the brutality of the scene, he appeared unmoved, his expression stoic and resolute.

His light steel armor, once gleaming, now bore the gruesome marks of battle, stained crimson red with blood. Yet, the occasional glint of silver could still be seen, a testament to the quality of his equipment. The young man's coarse brown hair was matted with sweat and blood, and his deep blue eyes seemed to pierce through the chaos around him with a determined intensity. His chiseled face with a straight nose, slightly bumped, was handsome, but the half-covered visage, marred by blood and dust, painted a different picture.

An arrogant air seemed to surround him, creating an invisible barrier that made him appear unapproachable. It was as if he existed in a world apart from those around him, a lone warrior navigating the chaos of battle with practiced precision.

"That's enough, Valerian," the man groomed in pelt and light leather armor said firmly to the unwavering warrior. He approached with purpose, his voice carrying the weight of authority. He bore a striking resemblance to the questioned man, with the same brown, soft hair cascading over his shoulders and deep blue eyes that exuded intelligence and wisdom. His soft oval face held a pointy chin, adorned with light facial hair, and a prominent straight nose that added to his composed and refined appearance. Unlike the other man, his brows curved gently in a crescent shape, giving him a calm and gentle charm.

In his late 20s, the man remained relaxed and composed, even in the midst of the battlefield. A sense of calmness surrounded him, and his presence brought a reassuring air to those around him.

"Ber army is retreating," he continued, his voice firm yet soothing. "We have shed enough blood for today. There is no need to press further." His deep blue eyes met Valerian's, searching for a sign of understanding.

Valerian, the unwavering warrior, stood tall, his face still half-covered in blood and dust. Despite the ferocity of battle, there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes as he looked at the man before him. The resemblance between the two was undeniable, marking them as brothers, bonded by blood.

The man in pelt and leather armor stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on Valerian's shoulder. "It's time to regroup, brother."

"Ask the healers to tend to the wounded and arrange for proper burials" he shouted to his subordinates.

Valerian's stern expression softened ever so slightly, his resolve mingling with a hint of weariness. With a nod, he relinquished his grip on the sword, letting it rest at his side. The two brothers turned away from the battlefield, walking side by side, as the chaos of war slowly subsided behind them.

"Prince Lucian, Prince Valerian!" 2nd Infantry Commander Badeb called out, cupping his hands in front of both princes. His stern face bore the marks of battle, showing multiple cuts and scars etched into weathered skin. His rough, long black hair framed his face, and a crooked nose spoke of past confrontations that hadn't slowed him down despite his age in the 40s.

"Commander," Lucian said softly, acknowledging the loyal warrior's presence.

"Enemy is retreating back to their borders," Badeb reported.

"Finally! It's been 6 days," Lucian replied, his voice carrying a mix of relief and exhaustion. After a brief pause, he continued, "We can rest now. Let the lookout be more vigilant. I will be returning to the capital tomorrow."

Looking at Valerian, Lucian asked, "Will you be joining me? Father is not doing well. He will be happy to see you by his side."

"I will join you after a few days, brother," answered Valerian.

"So be it," Lucian replied, understanding his brother's decision.

The two princes exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. They had been through many battles together, and their bond was unshakable. Lucian knew he could count on Valerian to join him when the time was right.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the snow-covered landscape, the freezing cold intensified, and the harsh environment seemed to steal every breath of heat from their bodies. Snow crunched under their feet, making each step laborious and challenging. No one enjoyed the bitter chill of these lands, but duty called them to endure.

"Tomorrow, we shall head back to Dahli City. From there, I will continue to the capital," Prince Lucian declared, his voice resolute despite the weariness that seeped through.

"Yes, Prince Lucian," replied Commander Badeb, his loyalty evident in every word.

"Commander, you will be stationed at Dahli with 5000 troops for now. Mayor Dasil will assist you with all necessities. The rest of the troops will be discreetly dispatched to other provinces," Prince Lucian continued, laying out the strategic plan.

"Yes, Prince," Commander Badeb acknowledged, understanding the importance of the task entrusted to him.

"Stormbreaker troops will return to the capital with Valerian. That's all for now. Let us return to the camp," Lucian concluded.

Valerian followed Lucian while commander badeb went to rearrange troops.

The camp was bustling with activity as soldiers and attendants went about their duties, preparing for the night ahead. The tent that housed the two princes stood tall and sturdy, its frame made of wood, and its walls made of durable leather. A Lion flag, depicting strength and courage, fluttered proudly in front of the tent, symbolizing their noble lineage.

Inside the tent, the atmosphere was more relaxed compared to the chaos of the battlefield. A warm fire crackled in the center, providing both light and comfort. The flickering flames danced, casting shadows on the walls, as Prince Lucian and Prince Valerian sat side by side, their eyes reflecting the weariness of the day's battles and the uncertainty that lay ahead.

Their armors were now set aside, revealing the exhaustion and dirt that clung to their clothes. Outside, two guards stood vigilantly, their stern faces showing their unwavering dedication to protect the princes. Their presence was a reminder of the constant dangers they faced, even within the relative safety of the camp.

"You got any word on Felix?" Valerian asked, leaning forward, his brow furrowed.

Lucian let out a tired sigh, his gaze distant. "No luck yet. It's been four years, and I still can't find him. It's like he disappeared into thin air."

Valerian nodded, understanding his brother's frustration. "Maybe we need more eyes and ears across the kingdom. We can't let him stay lost forever."

"Yeah, my network might not be enough," Lucian admitted, running a hand through his hair. "I'm hoping he's still here, in our kingdom, safe and sound."

Their minds drifted to the Garden of Blessing, where each of them had received their guardian beast blessings. Lucian with his white owl blessing, Valerian with his mighty lion, but for Felix, it was a mystery.

"Felix was sent somewhere unknown after that visit to the Garden," Valerian said, his voice tinged with concern.

As the crackling of the campfire filled the silence, Lucian's worry and frustration were palpable. "Father won't say anything, even at this stage. I'm not sure how long he'll be with us," he shared with a heavy heart. "I'll try to pursue him again when I'm back in the capital this time."

Lucian's gaze remained fixed on the flickering flames as he muttered, "Felix, where are you..."