How it began
I met Eirwen at my social debut, when we were both twelve years old. From the very start, I admired her talents, and she admired mine. I wasn't surprised that while we trained together, my father suggested a betrothal. That Duchess Verglas agreed so quickly, that did catch me by surprise. Both of us. But political marriages were what we had been raised to expect. Love may come later, or not.
But love found us sooner than that. I still remember the first day that my breath caught seeing her, and the slight flush that had already been on her face. As time passed, we fell deeper. Even during our years at the royal court, our love continued to intensify and convince others we were made for each other. While many did fear the idea of two dukedoms unifying, not even the crown seemed interested in getting in our way.
My father's ego, however, was a different story. On my rare visits home, I did realise he was growing more out of control, his flames slowly getting to his mind. But never did I see signs suggesting what was to come. In his twisted mind, he wanted to be the reason the dukedoms unified. Not by letting us marry and one day stepping aside, letting us rule over both domains as each other's equals.
No, he wanted glory as his legacy. And in his mind, the only way to get that was to conquer Verglas. So that he stood above them, that I stood above Eirwen. That in history, he would go down as the one that unified the dukedoms and left behind a bloodline to rule them both. But others would never stand for that, unless he had a cause to rally behind. And in that twisted mind of his, he reached the perfect solution. Let Verglas start the war first, so that he could finish it.
Declaration of War
When I aged to twenty-one, my father sent me off to the mountains, 'to prove myself worthy' in the unnamed twelfth Flameheart territory. His true reasons were most likely twofold. First, to get me and my personal guard out of the way, so I would not be able to catch onto his plans. Second, to have me trained in mortal combat, so I would have both skill and resolve to fight on the battlefield.
I returned at perfect timing. When Eirwen's parents were murdered, the Verglas nobles moved even faster than my father had anticipated. Eirwen officially ascended from Marquise to Duchess and declared war the very next instant. On my arrival, I was informed of 'Verglas foolishness' in the very same moment that messengers told us of the invading army. I had mere moments to choose, and chose to fall in line.
And so it went that on the first day I returned, I had to lead reinforcements to House Carraig, taking up arms against Verglas soldiers that shouted for my father's head. Truthfully, I wished I had had the skills to deliver it to them. But even with everything I learned, with every surprise I could have thrown at him, it would have cost me too much time. Loyalty has always been one of Flameheart's biggest virtues, yet also its worst flaw. To take down my father, I would need to kill him within three counts, before others could aid him. So instead, I repelled the invaders. The first battle of the war.
Stagnation By My Hand
My father had hoped to seize the momentum, to strike Verglas hard and fast. Spread his glory, show the world our might. Make the crown too afraid to oppose him, so that he could rule without worry. He knew our knights and soldiers had plenty of combat experience, due to our unruly borders and experience in the mountains. In comparison, Verglas was flanked by Beirn and Ashwood, which acted as buffer for actual border disputes. Their troops, their knights, their commanders, all had far less experience than ours.
But even then, everyone knew why Verglas had the reputation of knight-killers. That their widespread usage of the iconic Verglas technique let them pierce straight through full plate, making good armour far less a boon against them. A technique which mostly required focus rather than pure mana, which meant that even next to a berserking flame, their ice could still cut neatly. The fact my father refused to leave his estate, leaving the war to me? That alone was enough proof that we had every right to fear Verglassed blades.
So I held back. Under my command, we proceeded with care. Orders well-liked by the Flameheart council, who were far from eager to shed their own blood just to shed more of our opponents. My father disagreed, of course, as he disagreed with many of my orders. But everyone saw how I kept casualties to a minimum, how we won far more than we lost. How the war remained affordable, even if my father claimed all the gains from ransoms. All his rage did, was deteriorate their loyalty.
Four Rotten Years
For over four years, I led our armies and held off Verglas. At times, we would invade their territories, sabotage their defences and preparations. Small skirmishes abound, while larger conflicts were more rare. I ruled our troops with an iron fist, forbidding unwarranted cruelty, pillaging, violence against non-combatants. Some violators were punished in private, others I publicly executed with my own hands. Over time, this caused both sides to lose their thirst for blood. Except against me. I stood as a symbol of my father, the Western Blade that Verglas understandably wanted to break. As much as they respected me as an opponent, that did not outweigh my betrayal of their Duchess.
We also faced disapproval from our neighbouring Dukedoms. While the kingdom would never have tolerated them joining Verglas against us, they still hit us where it hurt the most. Duchess Ashwood sealed her borders entirely, cutting off our best supply lines. Duke Beirn didn't go as far, though he still prevented all military transports in our direction. To feed and arm our troops, we depended on our own stocks and expensive imports from outside the kingdom.
Despite this, and despite both dukedoms supplying covert financial aid, we still were ahead of Verglas. While the battle lines barely shifted under my command, all could tell how the Verglas coffers slowly bled dry. And even though my father claimed all the spoils, yet made the council pay their own costs, our subordinates descended more slowly towards bankruptcy than our opponents. Death by a thousand cuts. Our triumph was but a matter of time.
Ironically, my father turned out to be the biggest threat. When he sent me off to negotiate with Beirn and Ashwood, he proceeded to undo every order I had left behind. The resulting damage cost us over half a year of progress. But not even his incompetence was capable of costing us the war.
Undone by Arrogance
My father feared assassination throughout the war. With every passing day, this fear grew worse. The beautiful bushes and trees in the rear courtyard were all removed, so that none could use them to hide behind. His food and drinks were carefully observed, including employing taste-testers. Even my own personal guard had to leave their weapons behind whenever entering the estate, so wary was he of me.
And of course there were the raging bouts of accusations he tossed my way, whenever I spent time at the estate to plot our next actions. Fuelled by flame and alcohol, he would barge into my study, shout at me, accuse me of conspiring against him. Search through my possessions, looking for proof without being able to ever find any. Never meet me in a place where I could unleash the most dangerous techniques I possessed. Paranoia that only served to turn people towards me.
Though his suspicions weren't without reason. I had secretly identified several Verglas spies in the estate, multiple of which would have gladly taken the opportunity to kill him if provided. Meanwhile, I myself prepared my options, but I didn't need to document those. I knew exactly what conditions I would need to convince enough people to my side. But before I had the chance, he chose to taunt me, then deliberately left me an opening, goating me into attacking him. Knowing that even drunk, he could take me on long enough for others to jump to his aid.
But he had sent me to the mountains, where I had learned a very important lesson. Everything can be a weapon, even your bare hands. Not that my bare hands could have taken him on, but with the Verglas technique extending off one, I easily proved everyone right. The only thing that can stop a Flameheart, is a Verglas blade. And after all the time he had squandered the council's loyalty, they naturally fell in line the very instant his head rolled.
Not all of them agreed with my orders. But they knew full well who the people and troops would side with. How many of the council would obey me, even if it meant my own death. With the way out I offered them, they all accepted. Thus I rode off, to meet my beloved as equals. Bringing my father's head in a box, ready to serve her on a silver platter.
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