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"What is the word from the southern kingdoms?" The new ruler of the eastern coast focused on fear and power rather than trying to convince his followers as his father did. His first order upon taking office was to hang any dissenters and to consolidate power into the military to recover lost soldiers. Needless to say the rest of the families and women left as quickly as they could and sought refuge in the kingdom that was completely cornered by his alliance.

An older king, the ruler of the western coast of the landmass, had joined the younger king because of his charisma and ability to take action. However, he has some doubts at the beginning, and after seeing the would-be dictator's policies, he was more than nervous about giving him full support, "We haven't heard much from them. It has only been three weeks, I highly doubt they would have any difficulties."

"Our mines are located just south of us, they are the source of our military might. Their only job was to take the farmlands. The unprotected farmlands. How could they take this long to succeed?!"

Just as he finished his shout, the doors to the small meeting room burst open. A scout in torn, burnt rags held a document in his trembling hands, "Sire... report... from..." He collapsed on the ground, but the young king snatched the rolled parchment from the air and tore it open.

"Well? What does it say?"

"Impossible." A snarl formed on his face, one that brought pure terror to the older king, "Both of our southern allies have fallen! What madness is this?!"

"Fallen..." The older king thought for a moment, "The military might of our enemies pales in comparison to our own. Unless they let... by the divines... it can't be." He stumbled backwards from the document in the young king's hand, "Wendlow has marched..."

"Fine, then we shall meet on the battlefield as I planned."

The older king shook his head, "You have never seen him, Erhardt the Brave, the youngest in history to earn his title. Even as a child he had a fire in his soul that could not be extinguished. I saw him in sword training and tactical training, it was a fearsome sight. He conquered soldiers twice his age with years of experience, and that was before he even earned the title of king. If he has ordered the march, we have no chance."

The young king laughed, "I have taken that into account." He snapped his fingers, and another man entered the room. A tall man wearing intimidating, yet foreign, armor. It was in flaps and colored pitch black, with only a few silver designs of flowers. He wore a helmet, fronted by a mask of a demonic red face, and on his back was a body length blade, slender with a hint of a curve. Not of the kingdoms to be sure, "He will take care of Erhardt and bring me his head. After all, that is what I'm paying him for."

The older king nodded, "Very well. I leave defense of your lands to you, I must return to my own." With a deep bow, he left the castle and mounted his horse. He spoke to his two guards, "Come, quickly. We have little time." They took off down the stone roads to the southwest, the closest enemy kingdom.

It took all night, and their horses were dead tired by the next noon hour. The king had gathered his troops and ordered them to line up against the border between his kingdom and the enemy kingdom. He dismounted when he reached the front lines. On opposing lines he saw the other kingdom's soldiers and many Wendlow soldiers in their blue steel armor, "My king, what are your orders?"

He began to move towards the opposing soldiers and to the men in the elaborate blue steel armor, "Men, stand down. I have made a decision, and I will admit I was blinded by false resolve and fake promises. I will no longer keep you from your families. Please, I beg of you, go home. Tell them of my surrender, and to not resist the efforts of our former enemies." His men were in disarray, some left early due to fear, while others tried to contemplate what had happened. The old king walked across the plains towards the wall of Wendlow soldiers and stopped ten feet from the man who most appeared to be a commander, "I wish to propose my surrender, if I am able to state my terms."

"Make it quick."

The king detached his sword from his belt and offered it to the man, "My surrender, and my kingdom and it's people are not to be harmed. I will not let them fall to greed and power."

The man snapped his fingers and two soldiers from the nation itself brought forward rope, "You are to be bound, execution will happen within a week. Your terms are accepted." The old king didn't resist being bound. He smiled to himself, knowing he had finally did something right for his people.

.........................................

A messenger brought another letter to the young king, "About time." It was a simple piece of parchment, folded in half and sealed with a stamped metal plate, the preferred method of the Shadow. He knew that a straightforward battle would almost guarantee his defeat, so hiring the services of the most infamous assassins in the land would bring only benefits. He read to himself as the warning horns sounded. The messenger watched pure rage cross his face as he balled the paper and tossed it aside, "Very well, I shall do things myself!"

After he had stormed out of the room, the messenger picked up the parchment and quickly read the contents:

"Are you joking? I would rather become his personal bootlicker than take on Erhardt. Your proposal was far too demanding for someone of such low status, but we will keep the coin you sent. I highly doubt you will need it in the afterlife. - A"

After the "A" there was a distinct crimson splash most resembling blood. The messenger knew about the marking, though had never personally met with any member of the Shadow. Only the highest and most noble people have. However, the messenger knew enough about the Shadow to realize he was on the losing side of a war, the Shadows feared nobody but his king's enemy.

Just outside of his castle, the young king had gathered his army. The sun was high, and the glimmer of blue was highlighted by the catapults Wendlow had brought, no fewer than thirty in number, "Men! Fear not the enemy, crush them before you and show the world our might!"

His short speech was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of the catapults firing. Massive boulders and flaming balls of wood cut through the sky and towards the young king's castle. His soliders charged, not because of a call for it, but to flee the destruction about to rain upon them.

Not all of them escaped, and sounds of crunching, splattering, and screams of men on fire filled the air as the Wendlow soldiers met them head on with a mighty clash led by Erhardt himself. The young king's soldiers in the back of the charge knew from the start that they had no chance, as Wendlow's army wasn't even slowed down by their brothers in arms.

The foreigner walked through his allies and scanned the crowd before he caught sight of Erhardt. He was engaged with five men at once, easily using his strange sword and shield to dispatch foe after foe. The foreigner drew his long blade and ran forward. He was paid to kill, not to fight honorably, so when he was in range he raised his blade.

It is understandable that he was shocked when it was parried by the alert Erhardt, who easily kicked him down before cutting through three soldiers in a single swing. The foreigner was confident to begin with, but even now fear spread through his body. He scrambled to his feet and raised his sword in defense, but Erhardt broke through his block and cracked the sword in two. The tip of Erhardt's sword was at his throat, and with a dash forward the foreigner was no more.

The young king growled as his failsafe had failed him. He turned to walk into his castle, but before he could react a soldier in the blue steel armor buried his sword deep into the young king's head. Without a leader, the other soldiers either surrendered or fell quickly, and soon the uprising was completely quenched. The weak resolve was the downfall of the rebellion.

............................................

Two weeks later, the surviving kings and queens had gathered in castle Wendlow. Keeyi was wearing her usual garb, but with cleaner materials, and gladly sat at Erhardt's side by his request, "Now, you know what this means, do you not?"

The queen who first urged him to go to war nodded, "There are four kingdoms that require leadership, and of course we are loyal to you now."

"You four will be considered Lords of your lands, and will run independently of Wendlow, but any laws and changes must be approved by me, and any laws of Wendlow will be enforced. Is that understood?" The four nodded, "I will assign three of my most trusted generals to become Lords of three of the lands, and I have invited someone else."

The doors to the throne room opened, and three scantily clad women in black leather entered. Each strip of leather was careful to cover just enough of their body, while also leaving most of it uncovered. Keeyi's first thought was that a bad sneeze would cause their breasts to pop out, "Ah, King Erhardt, I am pleased you allowed my entry to your castle." The woman in the middle bowed, "Have you considered my proposal?"

"Andariel. You and your Shadows wish to rule over the kingdom of the troublemaker. You do realize you would be under strict Wendlow laws and customs, correct? And of course, as part of our arrangement you would be an extension of my own army."

She smiled and shifted her weight onto one leg, "Of course my king. While the Shadow are an independent organization, being empowered by the best in the world and finally having a home of our own would be a wonderful thing. I would be happy to extend your laws to the other kingdoms of course, or would they all now be districts of Wendlow?"

Erhardt sighed, "Districts. As long as the Shadow remain loyal as my left hand, then you are free to call the coastal kingdom in the East your home."

Andariel and her allies bowed in unison, "If you ever require our services in addition to our new authority roles, just say the word my king. I will personally follow your command word for word." Their hips swayed as they left.

"Erhardt, is it wise to have assassins in charge of that land?"

"They are my left hand, as my army is my right. They are assassins, but they are loyal and only wish to have a home. I trust a killer more than a noble. At least a killer is honest about what they do." He waved people out of the room, "I am too tired for this nonsense. Even the war was short, like slaughtering livestock in armor."

Keeyi shook her head, "I know, still you were successful, that is not something your enemies can say."

"What enemies? I didn't meet any. I met the misguided."

................................................

An uneventful year passes by, with each of the districts slowly falling in line to Wendlow's policies. Keeyi was finally provided a kimono that fit her, though she had to fight with the royal tailors to acquire the materials and learn the process. More surprising was that she was Erhardt's bond-mate. To be fair, it wasn't surprising to most, just to those who wished to take that role for themselves.

The only real situation of note was that the former kings and queens were a bit resentful of not having full control over their land, and the Western district just South of the coast was the most vocal about another rebellion. Erhardt utilized the new services of his Shadow district to eliminate the rebellious leader, and within a month the other districts silenced themselves and were more open to implementing Wendlow's laws. The Shadow kept their promise and followed Erhardt's every word, proving to be a valuable asset.

In addition, Erhardt opened trade with the people from the sea, or in other words, Keeyi's homeland. They were cautious at first, but understood the need to trade valuables and knowledge to advance their own civilization. Keeyi as his bond-mate helped both nations create trust and trade relations, and artists and craftsman in both nations quickly made use of new materials. Within time, both nations had created a truce and embassies were created on both lands. Any nation that would attack either of them was an enemy to both. In the distant future, the other areas of the world would grow to fear the powerful alliance.

"The tyrant by vote, not by choice. Such an odd title these people have given you." Keeyi walked down a hall with Erhardt, "Still, it seems fitting. You're a king and peacemaker."

Erhardt's head sunk down, "At least the districts are mostly self-sufficient. I would have let them retain their sovereignty if they could be trusted, but they couldn't handle a simple rebellion from a spoiled brat. How shameful."

Keeyi smiled and wrapped her arm around his own, "It has been quite some time, and you are still the most bizarre man I have ever met Erhardt." A few young women walked up to them, each carrying a sword similar to her own on their belts, "How may I help you?"

"Oh, uh, will there be training today?" During the war, Keeyi did help train some young women in the arts of war based upon her own experience. They quickly grew to enjoy it in their downtime and gained some proficiency in skills.

"No, you are all skilled enough, the most you can do now is train on your own and learn the intricacies of battle. Perhaps learned to make your own blad e that would fit your own hand." They bowed and left, "Erhardt... where are your personal guards? I haven't seen them in a few days."

He exhaled deeply, "They are enjoying each other's company. Did you not notice they were all bond-mates?" She gasped, "You aren't that observant. They were chosen because they were so close. They look out for each other and for me." The two stopped in front of Erhardt's door, "Something on your mind?"

Keeyi shoved him through the door, "Oh, there is something." She shut the door behind her.