The Tamer King

The banners of House Soient now flew over two strongholds, Blackthorn Fortress and the former Valtheris estate, now renamed Ashenhold in honor of the purging flames that had consumed its former rulers. With these holdings came the responsibility of governance, defense, and the slow yet necessary reconstruction of his fallen house's legacy.

Zarphinion stood atop the central keep of Ashenhold, surveying the city beneath him. His forces had secured its walls, but there was much work to be done. Resources needed to be redistributed, military positions reinforced, and new alliances forged. The presence of two holdings meant the division of his army—one force to maintain Blackthorn, another to secure Ashenhold, and a third for future campaigns.

As the morning sun cast its first light, he called forth his most trusted advisors.

Dividing the Forces

Selene, Kael, Asira, Lilith, and Elyndra stood in the war chamber, where a grand table detailed the expanse of their growing domain. Zarphinion traced a gauntleted finger over the map, eyes keen on the key routes between his territories.

"We hold two fortresses, but control over both means little if we cannot protect them," Zarphinion stated. "Blackthorn remains our heart, but Ashenhold is the gateway to future conquests. Our forces must be split."

Selene nodded. "We can't afford to stretch ourselves thin. We need a clear division of power."

Kael folded his arms. "Blackthorn is defensible, but it will need a standing garrison. I volunteer to command its forces."

"Good. Take three thousand warriors, a third of our siege weapons, and the majority of our cavalry. Reinforce its walls, and keep training new recruits." Zarphinion turned to Selene. "You remain here, overseeing Ashenhold's integration. We need its forges and battlemages working for us."

She inclined her head. "And the Moonfang mercenaries?"

"They remain mobile, striking where needed."

Lilith smirked. "That leaves us with an elite force for conquest."

Zarphinion turned to Asira. "You will oversee both strongholds in my absence. Ensure order, and crush dissent."

She bowed slightly. "It will be done, my lord."

Lastly, his gaze fell upon Elyndra, standing silently, still bearing the weight of her punishment. "And you… you will remain at Selene's side. You will use your magic to fortify Ashenhold's defenses."

Elyndra hesitated, then bowed her head. "As you command."

The Search for Truth

With the army divided, Zarphinion turned to his other pressing mission: uncovering the truth of his house's fall. The archives of Ashenhold held centuries of records, many untouched since Valtheris seized power.

Deep beneath the fortress, he and Lilith scoured the archives, poring over ancient scrolls and ledgers. Names of once-loyal houses stood out—House Drakemoor, House Vaelin, and House Crownsworn. Yet of them, none had come to Soient's aid in its darkest hour.

"Traitors, or merely cowards?" Zarphinion muttered.

Lilith scanned a document. "House Vaelin was known for its naval power. They withdrew from the war before its peak. Drakemoor vanished into the northern mountains. Crownsworn swore fealty to the empire."

Zarphinion clenched his fist. "Then we bring them back under our banner, by force if necessary."

The Reaction to Elyndra

The halls of Ashenhold had become a place of whispered judgments and watchful eyes. Elyndra, once a noble of power, now moved through the fortress with nothing to cover her but the cold air and the scars of her past.

Among the soldiers, some mocked her openly, others watched in curiosity, and a few viewed her with pity. Her duties were many—she reinforced magical defenses, assisted in research, and acted as a personal servant to Asira when not performing battlefield duties.

One evening, as she walked through the courtyard, a group of warriors sneered.

"A noble brought low," one muttered.

"Think she regrets turning on her kin?" another chuckled.

Elyndra did not react, but Asira's presence alone silenced them with a glare.

In the war chambers, she remained silent during discussions, speaking only when asked. Zarphinion observed her carefully, weighing whether she would one day prove worthy of full trust.

Asira, however, remained firm in her belief. "She is not one of us yet."

"And if she proves herself?" Zarphinion asked one night.

Asira met his gaze. "Then I will decide when she has earned her place."

Gaining New Allies

Zarphinion's forces marched upon the holdings of the old houses. House Drakemoor was first. Hidden deep in the northern mountains, they had become isolationists. With force and diplomacy, Zarphinion broke through their walls, facing their blade-dancers in a battle of precision and skill. In the end, their leader knelt before him, pledging fealty.

House Vaelin was next. A naval powerhouse, they had once ruled the seas. Now, their ships were a shadow of what they had been. Zarphinion offered them a choice—join him, and reclaim their former glory, or be cast aside. The admiral chose wisely.

House Crownsworn was the most difficult. Sworn to the empire, they would not turn lightly. Zarphinion prepared for war but found instead an unexpected ally—the heir of the house, who despised the empire's rule. With a secret agreement, Crownsworn fell in line.

The Birth of an Empire

With new houses under his banner and his lands secured, Zarphinion stood on the precipice of something greater. House Soient was no longer a fallen name. It was a rising power, one that would shake the world.

As he gazed out from the battlements, Asira at his side, he knew the road ahead was long—but the future belonged to him.