Alaric Thalor, his face contorted with rage, had called for the head of Valerius Goldwyn. The defiance of Taus, the most vibrant and prosperous of the six kingdoms, was a direct challenge to his authority, a spark that threatened to ignite a wildfire of rebellion across Carlradon.

  Taus, renowned for its fertile lands and colorful traditions, was the breadbasket of Carlradon. Its people, unlike the rest of the kingdom, did not adhere to the worship of Bael, their beliefs rooted in the earth and the cycles of nature. In Goldwyn Tower, the heart of Taus, Valerius convened his family, his face grim.

  "This has been a time of peace," he began, his voice resonating with the weight of the impending conflict. "Since the inception of regional rule sixteen years ago, we have lived in harmony with our neighboring kingdoms."

  He paused, his gaze sweeping across the faces of his family. "But that peace has been shattered. Alaric Thalor, in his arrogance, has declared himself king, demanding absolute obedience. He has called for the blood magic, a dark and dangerous ritual that we will not tolerate."

  Valerius turned to his eldest son, Thorne, the captain of the Taus army. "Thorne, prepare our soldiers. We declare war. We must be ready."

  Thorne, a young man of unwavering loyalty and sharp strategic mind, nodded. "Father, I have a suggestion. In response to Alaric's decree, we halt all export and trade of food from Taus."

  Valerius considered this, his eyes gleaming with a spark of cunning. "An excellent strategy, Thorne. Without our food, the other kingdoms will starve. The people will pressure their leaders to join our rebellion."

  News of Taus's defiance spread like wildfire across Carlradon. House Tostig of Sandars and House Hildegard of Velostria, weary of Alaric's tyranny, pledged their support to Valerius, forming a fragile alliance against the self-proclaimed king.

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  Meanwhile, across the Blue Sea, a small ship cut through the waves, carrying Hugh and Lysandra closer to the shores of Seadale. The familiar scent of salt and sea filled Hugh's nostrils, a stark contrast to the exotic aromas of Numbia.

  As the ship drew closer to the seaport, Hugh could see the towering walls of the city, but something was amiss. The usual bustling activity of the port was absent. No guards patrolled the docks, no merchants hawked their wares. An eerie silence hung in the air.

  Lysandra, her face grim, turned to Hugh. "When you left Carlradon, you were a boy of six," she said, her voice soft. "Now you are a man. Do you remember anything about your homeland?"

  Hugh frowned, searching his memory. "I remember fragments," he replied. "The language, the religion, some of the customs. But it's like looking at a faded painting, the colors blurred, the details obscured."

  Lysandra nodded. "In a week, it will be the Good Day Festival," she said. "A time of feasting and celebration. But it seems the festivities will be overshadowed by war."

  "Look," Hugh said, pointing towards the city. "The port is deserted. No trade, no guards. Carlradon is at war. House Thalor rules Seadale. We must be careful."

  Lysandra nodded. "Indeed. Tell our friends to prepare. We are close."

  Hugh turned to the four Numbian warriors who had accompanied them on their journey. These men, with their distinctive blue eyes and dark skin, were fiercely loyal to Lysandra, having served her for many years.

  "Brothers," Hugh said, his voice firm and commanding. "We are close. When we reach the seaport, we will separate. This kingdom is at war. You must inform the governors of Taus, Sandars, and Velostria that Hugh Sigmund is alive."

  He gave them detailed instructions on how to reach Goldwyn Tower, Gravemourn, and Grimstone. "Me and Lady Lysandra will head to the capital," he continued. "Meet us at Duskbane Tower."

  The Numbian warriors nodded, their faces stoic. They were ready to carry out their mission, to spread the word of Hugh's return, to ignite the flames of rebellion across Carlradon.

  As the ship docked at the deserted seaport, Hugh felt a surge of emotion. He was home. He had returned to the land of his birth, to a land scarred by tyranny and teetering on the brink of war. The journey ahead would be perilous, but he was determined to reclaim his birthright, to avenge his father's death, and to restore peace to Carlradon. But at what cost?

  End of Chapter Seven.

  To be continued....