Ravul emerged from the hall, his face as hard as rock, bearing nothing but malice in his eyes.
He stood before the palace square where his army awaited him.
Ravul's army was the most brutal... hundreds of armored beasts, their bodies black as coal, their eyes glowing red, carrying massive axes fit only for executioners. They all stood in grim silence, with no sound save for the wind stirring their heavy leather cloaks.
Ravul raised his hand: "We do not march to search... but to extinguish breath. If you see him? Leave no life in him. He has cast off his name from us, so forget you ever knew him."
The army stamped their heavy feet, shaking the very ground.
Ravul turned to his army minister—a massive creature named "Granz" who had three eyes: "The goal is one. Do not bring me news... bring me a head."
And he let out a roar that made even the sky tremble.
The black army stormed off behind him like a tempest.
In contrast, Nervas exited the palace with a cold smile on his lips, though he was seething inside.
His army was different... they were slender of body, but their eyes were a shining green, like snakes. They carried long, thin swords and moved with silent stealth. He stood before them, watching them like pawns on a chessboard.
"My darlings..." he said in a deceptively soft tone. "Today we play our final game... its name: 'Who finds my little brother first?'"
He gave a sinister laugh.
"But don't kill him quickly! I want to play with him a little... before we declare 'checkmate.'"
One of his aides, Nervas's minister, raised his head and asked: "And if he flees?"
Nervas smiled: "Let him run. The more he runs, the greater my exhilaration when I drop him at my feet."
Then, he gestured with a theatrical flourish: "Go forth... and let this night be a festival of the hunt. Just be careful... that he is not touched before I lay my hands on him."
They followed him in silence, like toxic shadows slithering through the forest.
As for Dravion... he exited the hall slowly, his chest rising and falling with the weight of what he had heard.
His army was the largest and most disciplined... strong-built beasts, but their eyes were not red; they were dark blue... holding honor and order. They stood in formation, heads high, awaiting his commands without noise.
Dravion stood before them, looked at them with sorrowful eyes, then raised his voice: "Prepare... we will go out in search of the Prince of the Kingdom."
One of them whispered: "And what shall we do if we find him?"
He paused for a moment... then said in a low but clear voice: "If you find him... send me a signal. Do not engage him."
Then, he motioned to his close aide—"Regar," who was his childhood friend: "Regar... I need you to do something."
Regar approached and bowed slightly: "Your command, my Lord."
Dravion: "If you find him before me... do not harm him. Tell him from me: 'Run, my little one... everyone is against you, but my heart is with you.'"
Regar lifted his head, his eyes full of emotion: "I swear you will hear news from him before anyone else, my Lord."
Dravion patted his shoulder... and whispered: "I want him to live. No one knows how much I love this man. He is my dear brother; I will not let anyone touch a hair on his head, not even my father..."
Then he turned to his army and raised his hand high: "Go forth... but keep your eyes wide open. The one we seek... is not an enemy. He is a part of us, of our own blood."
They set off in silence, with Dravion at the lead...
He whispered to himself: "I hope my message reaches you, Zahreen... Run, and do not return... for your life."