Fated flame's

The council chamber was silent except for the murmurs of the royal advisors and the occasional shuffle of parchment. The King sat at the head of the grand oak table, his fingers tapping against the surface with a rhythmic precision that betrayed his rising frustration. On either side of him sat his sons, the Crown Prince Rhaegel and Prince Dorian, along with a dozen other nobles and councilmen. The tension in the room was palpable, a sharp contrast to the usual bustling chatter of council meetings.

The King had just finished reading a letter from Thaldris. The news was grim. Thaldris was losing the war against Aladrath, a much smaller kingdom that had somehow turned the tide in their favor. The Kingdom of Alvoris had sided with Aladrath, strengthening their cause and threatening Thaldris' survival. The letter begged for assistance, requesting military support to stave off Aladrath's advances.

A councilman spoke up first, his voice low and cautious. "Your Majesty, we cannot ignore the situation. Thaldris is on the verge of collapse. If we offer them support, we might be able to secure an alliance sooner than expected."

"But if we intervene," another advisor warned, "we risk escalating the conflict further. Aladrath is already aligned with Alvoris, we cant get involved."

The King frowned, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. "Thaldris may be on the brink of defeat, but if we help them now they would be able to defeat and take over Alvoris, that would be an advantage to us when we allign with them."

The room was filled with murmurs of agreement, but a few were still unconvinced. "yes if Aladrath succeeds," one councilman suggested, "they will grow too powerful. Their influence will spread, and we may not be able to contain them. We should act now, while we still have the upper hand."

Rhaegel, the Crown Prince, leaned forward, his brow furrowed in thought. "But we cannot afford to overextend ourselves. Thaldris is asking for military aid, but what if the war drags on longer than we anticipate? We cannot lose our own soldiers in a battle that is not ours to fight."

"We must take a more diplomatic approach," Prince Dorian, the second prince, suggested. "Perhaps we could send them resources or offer to mediate the peace talks. We do not need to join hands with them, but we can help them secure an advantage."

The advisors nodded, but the King was unconvinced. His gaze shifted around the table, growing more irritated with each passing moment. His eyes then settled on his youngest son, Prince Rendyll, who had been silent throughout the entire discussion. Unlike his brothers, who had been quick to offer their ideas, Rendyll remained unusually quiet. His posture was relaxed, one arm casually resting on the back of his chair, his expression unreadable. He gazed out of the window, seemingly disinterested in the gravity of the situation.

The King's patience finally snapped. "And you, Prince Rendyll," he said, his voice sharp. "Do you have nothing to say about this? Or are you simply going to sit there, as you always do? "

Rendyll's eyes shifted toward his father, unhurried. He had always been a rebellious spirit, and though he loved his family, he had little interest in the tedious politics that dominated the royal court. But there was something about the situation now that caught his attention. He leaned forward, his voice steady and confident.

"If Thaldris and Aladrath are truly at a breaking point," he began, "then we must be careful. If we send our soldiers, we risk everything, especially if the war drags on. Aladrath won't back down. They've already made it clear that they want to win, no matter the cost. But Thaldris is offering a truce. They want to halt the fighting for now, not because they are weak, but because they know they cannot continue the war without devastating losses."

The councilmen exchanged skeptical looks, but Rendyll continue anyway, his words coming with a surprising clarity.

"But Aladrath will not agree to any truce. This war has been going on for over a year, and many innocents has lost their lives at the process, Aladrath will not stop unless they are forced to. If we send our soldiers, we are escalating the war into something far worse. And if we do nothing, Thaldris might fall. We cannot let that happen, but we cannot afford to lose our own men either."

The room grew quiet as everyone listened intently. The King's gaze never left Rendyll, his expression hard to read. Rhaegel, the Crown Prince, had been nodding along, as though he had already anticipated where his younger brother was going.

"What do you propose then, Prince Rendyll?" the King asked, his voice cold but curious.

Rendyll stood up slowly, his long frame stretching as he walked toward the large map of the realm displayed on the wall. He pointed to Aladrath and Thaldris, his voice low but clear.

"We need to involve the empire," he said. "Thaldris is losing, but so is Aladrath. They are fighting on two fronts now—against Thaldris and the empire's potential intervention. If we can convince the empire to step in, they will have no choice but to cease hostilities. We will offer Aladrath an ultimatum: stop the war, or face the wrath of the empire, supported by Thaldris and its allies."

The councilmen exchanged confused glances. "The empire?" one asked. "Why would the empire intervene? They have no stake in this."

Rendyll's eyes glinted with a sharpness that caught everyone by surprise. "The empire has always valued stability," he said, pacing slowly in front of them. "A prolonged war destabilizes the region. The empire's influence will not allow a war like this to continue. If they threaten Aladrath with the full force of their might, Aladrath will have no choice but to stop. And if they don't, we will back Thaldris and finish the fight ourselves, with the empire's backing."

The room was still for a long moment, everyone processing the weight of his words. The King's eyes narrowed slightly, his mind working through the implications of this suggestion.

"Are you suggesting we involve the empire directly?" one of the councilmen asked, raising an eyebrow. "That is no small matter."

"I'm not suggesting we ask the empire for aid," Rendyll clarified, his voice calm but unwavering. "I'm suggesting we threaten to bring the full weight of the empire to bear. If we make it clear that Aladrath's actions will force us into alliance with Thaldris, they will have no choice but to reconsider their aggression."

The Crown Prince, who had been watching silently, now leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. "It's a bold move, but it could work," he said, his voice steady. "The empire cannot afford a war on two fronts. They will act in their own interest, and if we make it clear that Thaldris has our support, they will step in."

The King, though still skeptical, was now considering the plan. "And you, Prince Rendyll," he said, his tone softer than before. "You truly believe this will end the war?"

"I do," Rendyll replied firmly. "Aladrath may be bold, but they are not stupid. They will not risk an all-out war with the empire, especially when they are already stretched thin."

The room was silent as the King nodded slowly. "Very well. We will send a message to the empire, outlining the situation and our stance. If they agree to intervene, we will offer our support to Thaldris, but only if Aladrath refuses to cease their attacks."

The councilmen exchanged looks, many of them surprised by how smoothly the conversation had shifted in Rendyll's favor. What had begun as a tense meeting, filled with uncertainty, was now moving toward a resolution.

And in that moment, Prince Rendyll, once dismissed as the kingdom's wayward son, had proven himself not just a prince, but a strategist.