EAGLE FORTRESS – Officers' Quarters
Azron stared blankly at the floor as he sat down, his presence unusually still, almost hollow. His elbows rested on his knees, his hands loosely clasped as if he were holding himself together. The room felt heavier than usual, the air thick with something unspoken.
The generals and Runar stood in front of him, silent, waiting—watching their Lord wrestle with a reality none of them were prepared to face.
It took time.
More than it should have.
Time for Azron to accept that Rin—the man he had searched for, mourned, and hoped for—stood before him with no memory of who he once was. No memory of them. No memory of her.
Slowly, Azron lifted his gaze and looked at Rin.
"Can you tell me what happened after you lost your memories?" Azron asked, his voice controlled, but beneath it, something fragile threatened to surface.
Rin blinked, caught off guard by the weight of the question. His eyes shifted briefly to the generals, who were staring at him with an intensity that made him feel like he was supposed to be someone else—someone he couldn't remember being. Then he looked back at Azron.
"I was unconscious … and woke up weeks later," Rin began, his tone steady but careful, as if choosing each word with uncertainty. "With a broken arm. Aila took care of me."
"Aila?" Azron's brows drew together slightly. The name stirred something in him—faint, distant, but unmistakably familiar.
"Yes…" Rin paused, his expression tightening as he continued. "She's my sister. Or… that's what she told me." He let out a quiet breath. "She said my name was Ru. That we had an accident… that it's the reason I lost my memories… and why Pearl was injured for two years."
Rin glanced at them again, noticing how intently they listened, how every word he spoke seemed to carry weight far beyond what he understood.
"This Aila… could she be—" General Dan began, curiosity and tension creeping into his voice.
"She's the one who told Ru to find you," Runar cut in, unable to hold back any longer. His voice carried urgency, his worry for Sera and Arelus breaking through his restraint. "She's hoping you can help us get Arelus back."
"Arelus?" Azron repeated, the name striking him like a sudden blow.
The memory came rushing back.
The boy.
The green eyes.
The voice.
His heart stuttered as realization took hold. He rose to his feet abruptly, his chest tightening as his pulse quickened.
He remembered.
The boy had said his mother's name was Aila.
"Yes," Rin continued, unaware of the storm unfolding within Azron. "My nephew. He's Aila's son. She was pregnant when we had the accident…"
Rin paused, noticing the shock that had spread across the generals' faces, their expressions shifting with every piece of truth he unknowingly revealed.
"…Arelus was taken by the Vaiels army," Rin continued, his voice hardening. "And Aila went after them." His jaw tightened slightly. "She told me to find you… that was her last instruction."
His gaze met Azron's, firm and searching.
"I didn't understand why she told me to find you… but I did." His voice lowered, edged with impatience now. "So… what can you do about this? Why did she send me here… to you?"
Azron stood frozen.
Rin's words hit him one after another, each one heavier than the last. His hand instinctively moved to his chest, gripping the fabric as if it could steady the sudden ache spreading through him.
General Wang noticed immediately.
He stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "Please step out for a moment."
He gestured toward Runar.
Runar glanced at Azron, then at the other generals surrounding him. Though reluctant, he nodded and walked toward the door, understanding that what was unfolding was beyond him.
Rin followed.
"Not you. Stay here," Wang said, stopping him.
Rin halted mid-step. His eyes shifted back to Azron and the generals, uncertainty settling deep within him. Despite everything, he still felt like an outsider—like he was standing inside a story that didn't belong to him.
Then—
Azron broke.
Tears slipped down his cheeks as he gripped Jidu's arm, his composure finally cracking after years of restraint. It was the first time he had allowed himself to show such sorrow—not as a warlord, not as the Lord of Mort—but as a man who had lost too much.
"I…" His voice faltered, rough with emotion. "I met him… my son." His grip tightened. "But I didn't recognize him."
His breath shook.
"What kind of a father… doesn't recognize his own son?"
The room fell silent.
The three generals moved closer, steadying him, standing beside him not as subordinates—but as brothers who had endured the same loss.
Rin stood there, watching.
Confused.
Lost.
But something inside his chest tightened painfully at the sight.
The Lord of Mort—feared, ruthless, untouchable—was breaking in front of him.
And somehow… it hurt to see.
"Excuse me…" Rin spoke, his voice rough, his patience thinning as worry for Sera and Arelus took over. "I don't want to intrude on whatever this is…" His tone sharpened slightly. "…but can you tell me what is happening?"
General Dan stepped forward, his expression gentler now.
"Your 'sister'…" he began carefully, "…is Sera. Lord Azron's wife. The Lady of Mort." He paused, letting the words settle. "And Arelus… is their son."
Rin stilled.
"Sera named him after Lord Azron's father."
The words sank slowly.
Too slowly.
"So… is she my sister?" Rin asked, his voice quieter now, uncertain.
"No," Dan answered. "You are General Rin. Son of General Ru." His gaze held Rin's firmly. "Sera named you after your father." He continued, his voice steady but heavy. "The two of you were being chased by Lord Lurion of Vaiels. You fell into the Spine River."
A pause.
"We thought you were both dead."
Rin slowly sat down.
The weight of everything pressed against him all at once—names, identities, lives that didn't feel like his… but somehow were.
And for the first time—
He didn't know who he was anymore.
Then he stood up.
"We don't have time for this."
The words came out firm, almost urgent, as if he had no choice but to push past the confusion clawing at his thoughts. Everything he had just learned pressed heavily against him—but the image of Sera and Arelus in danger cut through it all.
He walked toward Azron and the three generals, his steps steady, driven more by instinct than understanding.
"I'm still confused," Rin admitted, his voice low, strained—but unwavering as his eyes locked onto Azron's. "But Aila trusted you enough to send me here." His jaw tightened, something fierce surfacing in his gaze. "So don't waste that."
The room stilled.
The weight of his words hung in the air—direct, unfiltered, almost audacious.
The three generals' eyes widened slightly.
No one spoke to Lord Azron like that.
Not without careful thought, without fear of crossing a line.
But Rin—stripped of memory, stripped of rank, stripped of everything that once taught him restraint—stood there without hesitation, speaking as if he had every right.
As if he always had.
Azron's gaze lifted to him.
For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—not anger, but recognition… something buried deep beneath years of command and control.
Then it hardened.
The grief was still there—but it no longer ruled him.
Anger surged forward instead, sharp and consuming. The thought of Vaiels—of Sera facing them alone, of Arelus in their hands—burned through him, leaving no room for hesitation.
He straightened.
The warlord returned.
"Ready the army," Azron ordered, his voice cold, absolute. "We'll march to Vaiels State." His eyes darkened, carrying a promise that needed no further words. "We'll attack in full force."
The air shifted instantly.
The three generals stepped forward, their surprise gone, replaced by unwavering discipline as they fell back into formation.
"Yes, Lord Azron!"
There was no question.
Only obedience.
Only war.
They turned and stepped out of the room, their movements swift, already carrying out his command.
General Jidu gestured for Rin and Runar to follow.
"Here."
General Dan's voice carried a quiet weight as he stepped forward and handed Rin his old armor along with his sword, the metal catching the faint light of the room. "This belongs to you."
Rin stared at what was placed in his hands before finally accepting them, his grip firm yet uncertain. The armor looked identical to what the three generals were wearing—solid, worn, and forged for war. It was not just equipment; it was a symbol of something he could not remember. And that alone made him hesitate. He held it longer than necessary, as if waiting for recognition to come, but none did.
"We've retrieved the sword from the Spine River," Dan continued, his voice lowering slightly, carrying both pride and effort behind his words. "Jidu dove for it… fought crocodiles just to find it." He exhaled quietly. "It belonged to your father. We knew how much it meant to you."
Rin tightened his hold on the sword and slowly lifted it. The moment it settled in his hand, something stirred—not in his thoughts, but in his body. The weight felt right. Natural. Familiar in a way he couldn't explain, like his muscles remembered what his mind had forgotten.
Dan noticed the hesitation lingering in Rin's expression, the silent conflict behind his eyes.
"Rin," he called, his tone firm but not unkind. "You may have lost your memories… but you haven't changed." His gaze sharpened slightly, filled with quiet certainty. "Get ready, General. Your army is waiting for you."
Dan turned and stepped out of the room, leaving Rin and Runar behind.
The silence that followed felt heavier than before.
Runar remained seated, still trying to process everything that had just unfolded, his thoughts tangled and restless. The truth had come too quickly, too suddenly, leaving no room for him to adjust.
"I can't believe it…" he began, his voice low, almost distant, as he watched Rin change into the armor Dan had given him. "You were the famous General Rin… and Aila…"
He stopped.
The rest of his words refused to come out.
His disbelief settled into something deeper—something heavier. The woman he had admired, cared for, and quietly hoped for… was never within his reach. From the very beginning, she had belonged to a world far beyond his own. Not just any woman, but the wife of the Lord of Mort. A reality that made everything he once felt seem small in comparison, like a dream that was never meant to exist.
General Wang stepped inside just as Rin finished fastening his armor. Without a word, he handed Runar a set of armor and a sword, his movements efficient and composed. Then his gaze shifted toward Rin.
He paused.
For a brief moment, Wang simply looked at him—taking in the sight before him. The armor, the stance, the presence—it was all the same. As if time had not passed at all.
"It's good to have you back, General," Wang said, his voice steady, though something deeper lingered beneath it.
Rin didn't respond.
He simply nodded.
The three of them stepped out of the room and rode toward the gates.
As they emerged outside, Rin and Runar both froze.
Their eyes widened at the sight before them.
The Mort army stretched endlessly across the land, filling the entire field so completely that no trace of grass could be seen. Rows upon rows of armored men stood in formation, unmoving, disciplined, their presence overwhelming. Massive warhorses stood beside them, their breaths heavy, their hooves pressing into the earth like they too understood what was coming.
It wasn't just an army.
It was domination.
It was war waiting to be unleashed.
Then a warrior approached them, stopping before Rin.
"General Rin," he said, bowing his head slightly. "Raptor forces await you."
"What?" Rin asked, confusion evident in his voice as his brows furrowed.
"They are waiting for their general," General Jidu said as he passed by, already heading toward his assigned forces. "Go. Be with your men."
Rin hesitated, his gaze shifting briefly as he tried to make sense of everything.
Then he followed.
Runar stayed close behind him.
As they approached, Rin's breathing slowed, his eyes scanning the men before him.
They stood still.
Disciplined.
Unwavering.
Waiting.
For him.
"These are your men?" Runar asked quietly, awe unmistakable in his voice as he looked around, unable to fully grasp what he was witnessing.
Rin didn't answer immediately.
Instead, something settled within him.
Something quiet.
Something certain.
"Stay close," Rin said, his voice calm, firm—natural in a way that surprised even himself.
He moved forward, taking his place before them.
He may not remember anything.
But his body did.
A loud horn suddenly echoed across the field, deep and commanding, cutting through the silence like a signal of what was to come.
Lord Azron arrived at the front, his presence alone enough to shift the atmosphere. A flag was raised high, its fabric catching the wind, standing tall as a declaration of war.
The entire army moved forward as one.
Precise.
Powerful.
Unstoppable.
Azron tightened his grip on his sword, his gaze fixed toward the distant lands of Vaiels, his eyes burning with purpose and something far more personal.
I'm coming, Sera…