The roar from across the battlefield, the cries of soldiers, and the clash of swords echoed behind him, but Edgar could think only of the half-living body in his arms.

They had been in the middle of the battle when Princess Riala, the last child of the Lenister bloodline, was struck from behind by a sword and collapsed to the ground. Edgar, her personal guardian, gathered his beloved Riala into his arms and fled toward the Temple of Marika that stood behind them.

According to the prophecy, “The one who bears Marika’s blood upon their face shall save the world from the invading demons of the eastern lands.” And today seemed to be humanity’s final battle against the demons. Riala was the last descendant of the royal House of Lenister and the one whose veins, according to the royal lineage, carried the blood of Marika.

Riala’s presence on the battlefield had rekindled the soldiers’ hope, and after defeat upon defeat, they believed this would be the final battle against the eastern forces. Men who had buried their beloved children only days before had put on their armor, and women who had kissed their lovers for the last time had strung their bows. They knew this battle could be their last chance for salvation and perhaps the final battle of their lives. The warriors had entered the battlefield hoping to avenge their loved ones or to save what remained of their families.

The great battle took place near the city of North Fields, not far from the sacred Temple of Marika. That day Edgar’s eyes never left Lady Riala, and he defended her with everything he had. He moved around her like a living fortress, and anyone among the enemy who attempted to approach her was met with Edgar’s sword in the blink of an eye. In the midst of the battle, a squad of demon swordsmen surrounded them. Edgar butchered them with his blade, but amid the chaos he drifted a short distance away from the princess. As he rushed back toward Lady Riala, their eyes met for a brief moment. Riala nodded to Edgar in gratitude, and as he stepped toward her, a swordsman suddenly struck a surprise blow into Riala’s back.

The light in Riala’s eyes suddenly faded, and she fell to her knees. Edgar ran to her and caught her in his arms before her body could hit the ground.

In that instant, Edgar’s entire world was destroyed before his eyes. He saw visions of the kingdoms falling, of burned cities and dismembered people, of women fleeing from demon soldiers, and terrified children witnessing horrors beyond imagination. Riala’s death meant not only defeat in this battle but perhaps the end of humanity itself.

Edgar could think of no other choice except to carry the dying princess to the temple, hoping that fewer soldiers would see her blood-soaked body and continue fighting a little longer. Though his armor weighed heavily upon him and he carried Lady Riala’s nearly lifeless body, he ran toward the temple with all the speed he could muster.

The moment he entered the temple, he shut the gates behind him and walked toward the altar. He laid the princess before the statue of Marika, the Ever-Beside Lady, and removed his helmet. He knelt before Riala’s lifeless body and the statue, staring at the princess’s silent face. He was so desperate and hopeless that it seemed as though he too had lost his life. He could find not even the smallest spark of hope within his heart, nor could he find a single word with which to pray or beg the great Marika for mercy.

The clash of swords grew louder, and he could tell that the soldiers of the North Field army were being driven back. Soon they would likely reach the temple gates.

He was so lost that he could make no decision. If the soldiers reached the temple and saw the princess’s lifeless body, whatever little hope remained in their hearts would vanish.

Edgar raised his head and looked into the face of the statue of Marika, the Ever-Beside Lady. He had nothing to say and no prayer that could restore hope to his heart. Yet, in utter desperation, he spoke a single word.

“Help.”

The sounds of battle continued drawing nearer as Edgar stared at the statue of the Ever-Beside Lady. He decided to put on his helmet once more, return to the battlefield, and die there like the warriors around him. He bent down to pick up his helmet when he noticed a drop of blood fall onto the ground.

Startled, he lifted his head and searched for the source of the falling drop. To his astonishment, his eyes met those of Marika’s statue.

Another bloody tear fell from the corner of Marika’s eye and landed directly upon his face. The place where it touched burned against his skin like blazing fire. Suddenly hope came alive within his heart, and an indescribable courage surged through his veins.

“The one who bears Marika’s blood upon their face.”

..........

Edmund had noticed some time earlier that his comrade Edgar and the princess had disappeared from the battlefield. The other soldiers had noticed it as well, and everyone was slowly beginning to realize that the commander of the royal army had vanished from the heart of the battle.

Under Edmund’s command, and under the relentless pressure of the enemy soldiers, the royal army had been forced to retreat. With every passing moment they drew closer to the sacred Temple of Marika.

They stood only one step away from defeat.

Suddenly, Edmund heard a cry coming from the direction of the temple.

He turned toward it and saw Lady Riala standing beneath the archway of the temple gates, shouting,

“Soldiers of the kingdom, fight for your loved ones! Fight for freedom!”

At once, a strange courage came alive within the soldiers’ hearts. So powerful was this mysterious force that they began driving back the demon armies.

For a moment Edmund stared at Lady Riala, studying her white armor. It was armor forged from North Field steel and cloth woven from iron fibers, with a helmet made from unbreakable white stone that concealed Riala’s entire face. Together they formed a perfect image upon a noble and resolute lady.

But her sword was not the royal sword.

It was the sword of the royal guard.

Edmund turned back toward the battlefield, and with renewed strength and fresh breath, he threw himself into the fight.

He knew that when this battle ended, he would have magnificent heroic tales to tell his children.