The summit had barely settled from the storm of defiance Laverna had unleashed when a voice, calm and resolute, sliced through the tension like a blade. Zera stepped forward, her cloak trailing behind her like the echo of forgotten royalty.
The room, still reeling from heated exchanges and political doubt, turned toward her, captivated by the sudden stillness that followed in her wake.
"If I may," Zera began, her voice soft but infused with authority that could silence a battlefield. She walked with poise to the center beside Shin, bowing her head respectfully to him, then lifting her chin to address the gathered council.
"My name is Zera Dragonheart. Former Knight Princess of the Kingdom of Caer Valen, now remembered only in broken tales as the lost realm of the Dragonheart Dynasty."
A ripple of gasps surged through the chamber, spreading like wildfire. Eyes widened, whispers sparked.
"Dragonheart? She's saying she's of that line?" a skeptical voice muttered from the western delegation.
"Impossible," said another. "The Dragonheart Kingdom fell thousands of years ago. Their line was thought long extinct."
"I read about them," murmured Lady Arinelle of Coralis, stepping forward slightly. "They were the ones who fought beside the first Soma Clan in the wars against the Primordial Void... in myths. If this is true... then she's living proof of legend."
"Caer Valen," Zera continued, her voice unwavering, "was once a beacon of light and law on this continent. Our blades were not merely weapons—they were the embodiment of our will. And the weapon I carry—Clarent, sister blade to Caliburnus—is a testament to our legacy."
With a single, fluid motion, she unsheathed the longsword. The steel shimmered with a hauntingly beautiful sapphire light, pulsing in harmony with the aura that flared around her.
The blade thrummed with an energy that resonated in the bones of every warrior present, a song of justice remembered.
"When our kingdom fell to treachery from within, I fled with Clarent," she said, her tone heavier. "I was but a girl, but I knew what had to be preserved. I carried the last hope of my people. We were once allies to the Soma Clan. Our finest smiths forged Yoshimatsu under a sacred blood pact with Murasabe Soma, Shin's father. Clarent and Yoshimatsu—they are siblings, forged of the same flame, sharpened by the same destiny."
"But how can you be here if your kingdom fell millennia ago?" one council member asked, his voice laced with awe and suspicion.
Zera met his gaze without flinching. "When the Dragonheart Kingdom fell, a temporal sanctuary spell was placed upon me. Clarent and I were encased in stasis within the ruins of Caer Valen's last cathedral. Time moved differently for us. I awoke only decades ago—a fragment from the past thrust into the present."
Shin's expression tightened, a flicker of astonishment dancing behind his red eyes. Few knew the true origin of Yoshimatsu. Fewer still dared speak his father's name in reverence.
Zera stepped forward, her gaze steady. "I have watched you, Shin. Not merely as a warrior, but as a leader. You carry yourself with the same nobility that once graced the halls of Caer Valen. Your choices put others first. Your burden is heavy, but your spirit does not break. You remind me of the kings my people once followed."
She dropped to one knee, planting Clarent's blade into the polished marble, the steel chiming as it met stone.
"I, Zera of the Dragonheart line, pledge my loyalty, my strength, and my very soul to Shin Soma, rightful heir to the nobility of the East and torchbearer of the old alliances. Let my crest flare in truth as proof of this oath."
A brilliant dragonheart-shaped symbol ignited across her left chest, visible even through the cloth of her armor. The pulsing glow mirrored the glow on Shin's hand. A visible tether of light connected the two.
The chamber went still.
General Vael, who had previously raised the loudest objections, leaned forward with a stunned expression. "Dragonheart... That bloodline was thought to be extinct. If she speaks true, then Shin's claim is not mere sentiment. It's prophecy fulfilled."
Mira, captain of the Fourth Talon, pressed a hand to her lips. Her voice was a whisper of awe. "I used to read the legends of Caer Valen under the stars... Never once did I think I'd witness the return of its final princess."
"She's not just a relic of history," murmured Father Grent, eyes wet. "She's our bridge to the glory we've forgotten."
Davis folded his arms, his thoughtful expression betraying the weight of new understanding. "We're not looking at an upstart boy clinging to a ruined name. We're looking at a leader shaped by blood and blade, and now... backed by the legacy of two ancient houses."
Shin extended his hand and helped Zera rise. His voice was soft, sincere. "I never asked for your oath."
Zera smiled, a rare softness illuminating her face. "But you earned it, Shin. With every step we took, you earned it."
Their eyes met, and in that silence was a bond stronger than steel.
Behind them, Laverna's face warmed with both pride and bittersweet knowing. Tessara beamed with gentle reverence, her hands clasped in front of her chest. Maika, ever bold, grinned knowingly.
Clarent flared brighter, the blade lifting and hovering beside Zera as if to signify a bond sealed in starlight.
"Let this blade be the spark that severs the chains of doubt," Zera declared. "And let our unity, forged in flame and faith, be the bulwark against Tristan's encroaching void."
Shin turned to face the summit council. He was no longer just a young heir, no longer just a survivor.
"We do not stand divided," he said, his voice booming with newfound gravitas. "We stand forged. Forged by loss. By purpose. By truth. And we will reclaim what was taken. Not for vengeance alone, but for hope."
Silence fell like a veil.
Then, a slow and solemn murmur of assent echoed around the room. A few leaders stood, then more. General Vael gave a respectful nod. Mira lowered her head in respect. Even the most skeptical among them could not deny what had just transpired.
And so, the rebellion—now bound by oaths of the past and faith in the future—marched not as scattered factions, but as one. Led not only by a boy with a legacy but by legends reborn.
Together, they would reclaim a continent from the shadows of tyranny.