CHAPTER ELEVEN: CRISIS

The Kingdom of Luyas thrummed with excitement and ceremony. Today marked the long-awaited return of the Black Panther Brigade — the elite division famed for its unshakeable loyalty and fearsome resolve. At its head rode Captain Guy Heartlets, only son of Lord Ranfel XII and elder brother to Lady Luna Heartlets. He sat tall upon his black stallion, the very image of resolve — a living banner of hope and resilience.

Months had passed since the brigade had ventured to the unforgiving Northern Continents. Their mission had not been a routine deployment but a gruelling five-month training campaign devised by Master Oracle Fye, Lord Eden, and Lord Ranfel himself — meant to break the body, temper the mind, and forge bonds no battle could undo. Their homecoming signified not merely the end of hardship but the renewal of the kingdom’s defences.

Captain Guy Heartlet’s cloak of royal blue, striped in white and draped over black armour and fitted trousers, caught the evening light. The wind teased his dark brown hair as cheers erupted from the crowd. His smile — warm, boyish even softened the soldier’s edge in him, though his heart ached for those he loved most.

He reached behind and brushed a hand against the leather satchel strapped to his saddle. Within lay small, carefully wrapped gifts for three of the dearest people in his life. Through snow, hunger, and sleepless marches, thoughts of them had kept his spirit burning.

As Luyas Castle rose ahead in gold-lit grandeur, Guy urged Night into a brisk trot, leading his men to the stables. He dismounted with easy grace, patting the stallion’s neck before handing the reins to the stable hand.

“The place felt awfully empty without you, Young Master,” said Sam with a grin. “Glad you’re back.”

“Thank you, Sam. Is everything all right?” Guy’s tone was casual, yet his eyes sharpened at the boy’s hesitation.

“...I’m sure His Lordship will brief you. It wouldn’t be my place to gossip,” Sam answered, lowering his gaze.

A knot of unease tightened in Guy’s chest. Sam had always been talkative; his caution spoke volumes. Something was amiss—something his father wished hidden.

Guy entered the castle. Warm air met polished stone that glinted under lantern-light. A veteran knight straightened and saluted.

“Welcome back, Captain. A successful training, I presume?”

“Thank you, Christopher. All went as planned. It’s good to be home.”

“Indeed,” came a fond, familiar voice. A plump, silver-haired woman approached, leaning on her cane. Nana. Her presence alone soothed every weary nerve.

“Welcome home, Young Master Guy,” she beamed. “You’ve grown into a fine man—even with that bit of stubble!”

Guy laughed, sweeping her into his arms. “Nana! You’ve no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

“Oh hush, boy. You must be starving. Shall I have them run your bath, or fetch you a hot meal first?”

“Dinner sounds perfect. But—ah—before that…” He pulled a small velvet box from his satchel. “A gift, from the North.”

Nana, who shines brighter than the sun with every smile.

Her voice broke. “Oh, Young Master… you shouldn’t have…”

Fifteen years ago, she had taken over when their mother died—raising Guy and Luna as her own. Pride filled her heart even as dread gnawed beneath it.

“See you soon, Nana,” Guy said, kissing her cheek. “I’ve gifts for the girls.”

Nana’s smile faltered as he turned away. Clutching the pendant, she whispered through tears,

“I’m so sorry, Young Master…”

Guy strode the halls, returning every bow with warmth, though beneath each greeting he sensed unease—forced smiles, whispered words behind closing doors. The castle itself seemed to hold its breath.

Then—hurried footsteps.

“Young Master! Please wait!” Nana again, pale and breathless.

“Nana? What’s wrong? You shouldn’t—”

She seized his arms. “Forgive me, Young Master, but I can’t bear it. It’s about Miss Mika.”

His heart plummeted. “What about her?”

Nana hesitated. Her hands trembled. “She’s… been exiled,” she choked. “Lord Ranfel banished her. He said she endangered the Kingdom in Andania. But… I don’t believe it.”

The world narrowed. The warmth, the laughter—all gone.

Guy’s face hardened. He turned on his heel and marched off, boots striking like war-drums, cloak flaring behind him.

***

Servants froze as Captain Guy Heartlets stormed through the corridors. Fury rolled off him in waves—raw, consuming, unfamiliar. Not since childhood grief had he felt such fire. It had taken years of Nana’s care, the Commandant’s discipline, and the love of his siblings to forge that broken boy into a man. Now the man burned.

At the council doors two guards saluted.

“Welcome back, Captain Guy.”

“Thank you. My father’s inside?”

“Aye, sir—but he gave orders—Captain!”

Too late. Guy threw the doors open.

“—And now, General Luther’s report—”

Quills froze. Gasps echoed. Guy stood at the threshold, every line of him taut.

“Father.”

Lord Ranfel looked up slowly, annoyance flickering. “Guy. You’ve returned, I see. Still in uniform? Where are your manners?”

Guy advanced steadily. His voice remained cool, but the storm swirled beneath it. “Forgive the intrusion. I couldn’t wait. You’ve left something out of your letters—something about Mika.”

Ranfel’s jaw twitched. With a sharp exhale, he closed his ledger loudly. “Gentlemen, it seems my son is clearly demanding my attention. Dismissed.”

When the last general left, silence thickened.

Silence fell as the door shut. Guy inhaled deeply.

“Why wasn’t I told of Andania? What possessed you to exile her?”

“Let me guess. That meddling maid—”

“Threatened her,” Guy cut in. “How dare you.”

“I spared you distraction,” Ranfel snapped. “You lose focus when that Spirit girl is involved. The rumours spread—”

“That Spirit girl was your adoptive daughter,” Guy growled. “You called her family!”

“Because she is a Spirit! Dangerous, unstable—she butchered Andania! If Grants hadn’t intervened—”

Guy’s voice dropped. Cold. Lethal. "You adopted her to polish your reputation. You held her back from proper training, afraid she might become stronger than your grip could contain. And when she finally snapped, you threw her away like a failed experiment. You’re a coward. A hypocrite."

The slap cracked through the chamber.

“Watch your tongue! You live in luxury because of me!”

Guy’s cheek flared red. “No. You live in delusion. We never wanted gold, only a father. But you were too busy playing lord to remember what love looks like.”

He turned for the door. “Don’t ever compare Luna and me to yourself.”

The slam that followed shook a painting loose; glass shattered across marble like stars. Guy didn’t stop. His fury drowned everything else.

Why wasn’t I here? How could she face it alone?

He clenched his fists. He would make it right—whatever it cost. There was one man who could tell him the truth: Commandant Grants Rogue.

***

“Come in,” Grants called.

The door creaked open.

"Welcome back, Captain," Claire greeted warmly. "What brings you here?"

Guy entered like a storm barely contained. “I need to speak with the Commandant. Alone, if you please.”

“Understood. I’ll be outside should you require anything, Commandant.” She left without question. Silence followed.

Once the door closed behind her, silence fell—thick, brimming.

Grants let out a weary sigh, massaging his temples. “I know why you’re here. And I’ll tell you now—there’s nothing more to be done.”

“Why wasn’t I told?” Guy demanded.

“Because the living must be protected,” Grants said evenly. “You can’t bleed for every lost soldier.”

"With all due respect, Commandant, Mika isn’t a soldier. She’s family — My sister!”

Grants raised an eyebrow.

“You do realise you’re not blood-related,” Grants replied dryly. “You could marry her if you wished — not that Ranfel would ever allow it. That’s why I kept her from the frontlines. But your father overruled me.”

“Careful, Commandant,” Guy warned. “I love her as a sister. What she did in Andania was tragic — but the people would already be dead if she didn’t help out.”

Guy’s glare didn’t waver. “You’re hiding something.”

Grants slammed his hand on the desk. “Sit.”

Guy stiffened but obeyed.

Grants drew out a sealed scroll. “This doesn’t leave this room. Your father must never know.”

Guy nodded once.

“A month after Andania, a letter arrived—in Ancient Aspanian. The Spirit Royal Family demand their lost princess returned. They threaten war.”

Guy froze. “You mean Mika is—”

“A Spirit princess,” Grants confirmed. “Who else fits?”

Guy’s jaw locked. “Nana said you met with her a couple months ago. How is she? Is she safe?”

Grants leaned back. “She’s with a powerful house—safer than she’s ever been.”

“Where?”

Grants shook his head. "You’re not going to get that chance. And frankly, I’d appreciate it if you leave now. I have things to do."

Guy stood abruptly. "Tell me, Commandant. I’m not asking anymore."

Grants rose, slamming both hands on the desk. "I CAN’T!"

Guy’s gaze narrowed. "So my father does know. And he disapproves."

"He does. He argued with Oracle Fye and Lord Eden about it. Lost."

Guy crossed his arms, silent.

Grants exhaled heavily. “You won’t reach her. She’s no longer with the White Wolf Clan. She and their young lord travel toward the Spirit World.”

Guy’s blood ran cold. The White Wolf Clan—legends. “You expect me to sit here while she’s hunted?”

“Your duty is here, Protecting Luyas.” Grants barked. “Your father will have your head if he founds out you’re gone.”

But Guy was already turning away. “Thank you for protecting her. But I won’t stand idle again.”

“Captain Guy! Don’t do something you’ll regret!”

“I’m doing what’s right.” He vanished through the doorway.

Grants collapsed into his chair, groaning. “Claire! Fetch the strongest painkillers we own. This headache may finish me.”

Claire returned a small, sad smile. Nothing could stop Captain Guy Heartlets once his heart had chosen its course.

***

After his tense conversation with Commandant Grants, Guy wasted no time. He packed swiftly—armour exchanged for travel gear, provisions stuffed into a knapsack. One last look at his room, the only place that had ever felt like home.

Hunger gnawed at his stomach, but the urgency to find Mika overshadowed every other need. With one final, lingering glance at his room—the only sanctuary he had ever known—he stepped out, burdened by worry and fortified by resolve.

In the kitchens, the smell of bread and stew wrapped around him. Nana stirred the pot, humming softly.

“Nana,” he said gently.

Nana’s head lifted, eyes bright with tears already forming.

Guy inhaled deeply. “I’m going to find Mika and bring her home.”

A strangled cry escaped her lips. Her ladle slipped from her grasp. “Oh, Guy… it’s too dangerous!”

"I have to try," he interrupted gently, stepping closer. He knelt, taking her hand. “You taught me to protect those I love. I promise I’ll return.”

Nana’s trembling fingers cupped his cheek. “Come back safe, my child. Whatever happens, don’t lose yourself.”

He held her close, then pulled away, offering the kitchen one final smile. “I’ll be back.”

The servants murmured farewells as he disappeared into the predawn dark.

He’d nearly reached the stables when a flash of white slammed into his chest.

“Guy!”

“Luna?” he exclaimed, catching her as she stumbled. “You shouldn’t be up!”

“You’re leaving, aren’t you? After Mika?”

Guy’s expression darkened. He nodded. “I have to.”

“But she’s with the White Wolf Clan!” Luna cried. “They’re the strongest in Fulaina—you’ll only endanger yourself!”

"There’s more to it than you know, Luna,” he said softly. “Something about Mother's death... something hidden. I have to uncover the truth—and protect Mika. She’s not just exiled. She's being hunted. And she’s not safe."

“There’s more you don’t know,” he said softly. “I must uncover the truth.”

Her breath caught. “Guy…”

He kissed her forehead. “Stay strong—for me. For her.”

She gripped his sleeve, reluctant to let go.

“Just come back alive,” she whispered.

“I will.”

And then he was gone.

***

Moments later, a trumpet’s blast split the dawn. Guards scrambled; alarms clanged through the courtyards. Luna, still in her night-robe, bolted up the watchtower. Her lungs burned, yet she climbed.

The castle was in an uproar. From the tower’s peak she saw it—an army of light and mist spreading across the plains. A legion of Spirits.

Ghostly figures, eyes gleaming like coals, advanced with eerie grace. The southern gate was their aim; nothing would stop them.

Terror clutched Luna’s chest.

“Guy!” she cried into the empty corridors. “Where are you?!”

But her brother was already far beyond the castle walls, galloping into the rising crimson horizon.

The sky bled not with dawn, but with the glow of a thousand Spirit eyes.

War had come.