As we settle into the speeder, I glance back to make sure everyone is secure. Talia sits next to Alduin in the back, gripping his hand tightly, and he holds hers in return, his expression a mixture of relief and tension. Apollo sits calmly next to them, his form imposing even in the confines of the speeder, while Bjorn takes the passenger seat up front.

  "Put on your safety belts and hold on tightly," I warn, my fingers expertly flipping switches and pressing buttons. The speeder hums to life beneath us, its energy building until it gently lifts off the ground. Talia gives Alduin's hand a reassuring squeeze as we rise, and he nods, grateful for her presence.

  The wings extend smoothly as we ascend, and I can see Bjorn and Alduin peering out the windows, a blend of awe and apprehension marking their faces. Then, with a final flip of the ignition, I engage the engines. The speeder roars to life, and we take off, leaving the cave and the sanctuary of our temporary refuge behind. The morning sky unfolds before us, bathed in hues of pink and gold as the sun climbs, casting a gentle warmth over the landscape below.

  The flight is smooth, and the vast scenery races beneath us, a blur of rolling hills and open plains stretching out under the rising sun. Soon enough, the encampment appears in the distance, its watchtowers standing like silent sentries. Not wanting to draw unnecessary attention, I lower the speeder, choosing a grassy hill some distance from the camp. As we touch down, the engine whines softly, settling into silence.

  Bjorn stumbles out of the speeder the moment we land, his face pale. Before I can ask if he's all right, he doubles over, retching violently onto the grass. Alduin steps out, a look of concern etched into his features, and he pats Bjorn on the back, trying to offer some comfort.

  "I'm fine," Bjorn rasps, just before another wave hits him, forcing him to double over and vomit again. Talia winces and turns away, clearly uncomfortable with the scene.

  Alduin grimaces, his sympathy evident as he watches Bjorn catch his breath, spitting out remnants of his breakfast. "How come you aren't sick?" Bjorn asks hoarsely, wiping his mouth.

  Alduin shrugs as I hand Bjorn my water pouch. Bjorn accepts it with a grateful nod, taking several big gulps. "Motion sickness is common for first-time flyers," I explain. "Some people's stomachs aren't used to the sensation—it happens."

  Bjorn grumbles as he returns the pouch, the color slowly coming back to his face. "Well, that wasn't pleasant," he mutters, finally steadying himself and glancing around. "Why did we land so far from camp?"

  I nod toward the sleek form of the speeder. "I'd prefer to keep this hidden. It's best if no one knows we have it."

  At my command, DP-8 hovers by the speeder, beeping softly. Alduin and Bjorn exchange puzzled looks at the droid's presence, unable to hide their curiosity.

  "Your speeder," Alduin remarks as we start walking toward the camp, "is truly remarkable."

  The morning light blankets the land in a soft, golden glow as we make our way, the cool air crisp and refreshing. The camp grows nearer, and the guards in the watchtower turn their heads, watching us approach with wary eyes. One of the guards steps forward, raising his voice as we draw closer.

  "Halt!" he commands, his tone authoritative. "This is a military encampment. Turn away now!"

  Before I can respond, Bjorn strides forward, his voice booming with the unmistakable authority of a king. "I am King Bjorn Ironheart, and I order you to open the gates at once!"

  The guard squints down, his eyes narrowing as he studies Bjorn's features. Recognition dawns, and he immediately signals to the others, his voice echoing, "Open the gates! The king has returned!"

  With a deep creak, the gates slowly swing open, and we step inside. But before we can fully enter, soldiers swarm around us, hundreds of them, weapons drawn and ready. The gleaming tips of spears and the sharp edges of swords surround us, tension crackling in the air as the soldiers eye us with suspicion.

  Suddenly, one of the soldiers lunges toward Alduin, gripping him roughly by the arm and pulling him to the ground. Talia reacts in an instant, shoving the soldier back, her face a mix of fury and protectiveness. The soldier stumbles, and as he steps forward to retaliate, Talia swiftly draws one of her short swords, holding it firm against his throat.

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  "Don't you dare lay another finger on him," she warns, her voice cold and steady.

  The soldiers tense, weapons raising as they assess the standoff. Spears and swords are now aimed at Talia, at Alduin, and even at me and Apollo, creating a tense standoff. In the thick of it all, Bjorn's voice booms out with command, immediately cutting through the tension.

  "Stand down!" he bellows, forcing himself up from the ground, glaring at the captain who dared to lay hands on us. "These people are my friends!"

  The captain, momentarily stunned, stares at Bjorn in disbelief. "Your... friends?" he asks, scoffing slightly, though a flicker of uncertainty crosses his face. "But your highness, the one who stormed through the camp and took you is right here!" He jabs an accusing finger toward Apollo, who stands silently, his towering presence almost statuesque.

  Bjorn's annoyance is clear. "I am well aware of that."

  The captain's gaze shifts to Alduin, his eyes widening as he realizes who stands before him. "And King Alduin... is with you?"

  Bjorn's jaw tightens. "Yes, he is. Now stand down—now."

  The soldiers exchange uncertain looks, but one by one, they lower their weapons, the suspicion in their eyes gradually giving way to reluctant respect. The captain, visibly unsettled, sheaths his sword and bows his head slightly.

  "Captain," Bjorn commands, his tone leaving no room for argument, "gather all my generals at my tent. These people are my guests—especially King Alduin."

  The captain nods, though he appears rattled, and begins barking orders to the troops around us. The soldiers disperse, and Bjorn gestures for us to follow him through the camp. As we walk, eyes follow us, and whispers fill the air, rippling through the ranks of soldiers who glance our way with confusion and curiosity. I catch snippets of conversations—hushed questions about who we are and what business we have here.

  At last, we arrive at Bjorn's tent, flanked by two imposing guards standing vigil. Each holds a massive broadsword, the blades glinting in the early light, their gazes sharp and watchful. The tent flaps part, and a young man steps out, dressed in royal armor that gleams golden in the morning sun. His armor is engraved with intricate patterns, and a black sash stretches diagonally across his chest, signifying his royal heritage. Atop his head sits a modest yet ornate crown, adorned with sharp points and gemstones along the band.

  His eyes widen at the sight of Bjorn, and without a moment's hesitation, he strides forward, embracing him with genuine relief. "Thank the gods you're unharmed," he says, his voice filled with warmth and gratitude.

  Bjorn returns the embrace, clapping the young man's back with fatherly affection. "I'm fine, Ragnar," he assures him, his tone gentle and comforting.

  As they part, Ragnar's gaze shifts to me, to Talia, to Apollo, and finally to Alduin. His brow furrows, confusion clouding his face. "Father... what is going on?"

  Bjorn gestures toward the tent, his expression becoming serious. "Let's talk inside," he says firmly. The tension lingers as we prepare to step into the tent, the weight of our mission pressing heavily upon us all.

  We follow Bjorn and Ragnar into the tent. Bjorn heads behind a divider in the far corner to change out of his nightclothes and into his royal armor. The rest of us wait in the main part of the tent, which is spacious and adorned with maps, battle plans, and various weapons hung on the walls. After a few moments, Bjorn steps out from behind the divider, now dressed in full armor. His armor gleams with golden plate mail, polished and intricately designed with the sigil of Eldoria. His crown sits firmly on his head, completing the transformation from a weary traveler to the imposing ruler of his kingdom.

  "Much better," Bjorn says, adjusting his crown before turning to the rest of us. "Let me introduce my eldest son, Prince Ragnar Ironheart."

  Ragnar steps forward, giving a polite nod as he greets each of us. When he reaches Alduin, his eyes widen in recognition. "King Alduin," he says with a respectful bow. "It is a pleasure, despite the... unusual circumstances."

  Alduin nods in return. "The honor is mine, Prince Ragnar."

  When Ragnar turns to Apollo, however, there's a moment of hesitation in his expression. His eyes scan Apollo's armored form, and I can sense his unease. "Father," Ragnar says quietly, his tone cautious, "is it wise for him to be here?" He gestures toward Apollo, lowering his voice. "He put thirty-three men in the infirmary."

  Bjorn lets out a long sigh, clearly irritated by the reminder. "I assure you, your highness," Apollo says, his voice calm and measured, "my intent was not to kill."

  Bjorn pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "We can argue about this later," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "We have more urgent matters to deal with."

  Just then, twenty soldiers step into the tent, their golden armor glinting in the firelight. Each soldier holds their helmet under their arm, the tops of which are adorned with black feathers. Their eyes light up with relief and joy upon seeing King Bjorn safe and unharmed.

  "Your highness," one of them says, stepping forward. "You're alive and unharmed!"

  "And who are these people?" another soldier asks, his gaze shifting to me, Talia, and Apollo. "Why is King Alduin here?"

  Bjorn gestures for the soldiers to gather around the large table in the center of the tent. "Stand around the desk," he says, his voice commanding but calm. Then he turns to me. "Ryu, if you could please explain the situation."