Love of Fortune and Steel

Part 1

As the SUV roared down the rugged valley path, Bisera began to relax, if only slightly. James, too, felt a weight lift off his shoulders. The tension of their escape was finally giving way to a strange calm as they left the Gillyrians far behind. He knew they were heading toward Nviom, a large city now controlled by Vakerian forces, but the roads were a mess—more like dirt tracks crisscrossing the rocky terrain. The path to Nviom was not an easy one, and the SUV, while powerful, jostled them over every bump and rut. Still, they had a plan, and for now, that was enough.

The trip ahead would be long. In Bisera's medieval world, roads were often unpaved and poorly maintained, especially in regions like this. The old imperial roads—remnants of the ancient Gillyrian Empire that once ruled all the lands in the region—were nothing like the well-kept highways of James's world. That empire had crumbled and faded centuries ago, leaving a remnant of itself in the form of the current Gillyrian Empire. Now its roads were little more than packed dirt, sometimes reinforced with cobblestones in the better-maintained sections. Most were uneven, worn down by war and neglect, and their journey would be slow even with the SUV's modern suspension and off-road capabilities.

James took a deep breath, his hands steady on the wheel as they hit another bump. He felt his muscles finally start to relax, though his mind remained focused on the path ahead.

And then he noticed Bisera.

She sat beside him, her posture rigid, eyes scanning the horizon. Now that the immediate danger had passed, James had a moment to really look at her. Bisera's face, framed by cascading waves of blonde hair, was striking. She had removed her helmet, revealing refined and chiseled features softened by delicate curves, but it was her piercing blue eyes—sharp and intense—that truly captivated him. Her lips were set in a determined line, and her skin, slightly flushed from exertion, carried a strength that matched the fierceness of her gaze. Her armor, though polished and adorned with elaborate engravings, was battle-worn, carrying the grime of the day's skirmishes. In the late morning light, the armor shimmered, accentuating her imposing and regal presence.

In that fleeting moment, Bisera's beauty reminded him of one of his former girlfriends—Alina. They had taken a road trip together through the mountains in North America once, just before they broke up. Alina had been an aspiring model back then, her long legs stretched out in the passenger seat of his SUV, laughing at some silly joke he'd made. She had been confident, self-assured, always talking about her dreams of making it big in the fashion industry.

And she had.

Alina was now a successful businesswoman, running her own fashion line. Meanwhile, James had chosen work over love, breaking up with her to pursue opportunities overseas. He'd thrown himself into his career, always chasing that next promotion, that next big project. But now, as he sat beside Bisera in an SUV speeding through a medieval landscape in a different world, James realized how crazy he had been. He had missed out on so much—missed out on his own life for the sake of his career.

Before James could lose himself in his thoughts, the familiar voice —whom he had resigned himself to calling "Seraphina"—cut through his reverie. "Would you like to purchase a detailed map of the region for $30?"

James couldn't help but smirk at the absurdity of the situation. Here he was, thrown into a world of swords and armies, fleeing from soldiers, and now this magic voice was offering him a map for what seemed like pocket change. "Yeah, go ahead," he muttered, half-amused.

Within seconds, a rolled-up paper map appeared beside him, as though conjured out of thin air. He pulled the SUV to a stop, curiosity taking over as he unrolled it across the dashboard. The map was intricate, showing every path, forest, and landmark in meticulous detail.

Bisera noticed the map immediately, her sharp eyes narrowing in confusion. "Where did that come from?" she asked, her voice tinged with awe.

"Seraphina," James replied with a shrug, not bothering to explain further.

Bisera's fingers lightly brushed the map, her blue eyes widening as she studied it. "This is unlike any map I've ever seen," she breathed, her voice filled with reverence. "In our world, maps are crude things, drawn by hand on parchment or skin. But this... it shows every path, every river, every road. If Seraphina provided this, it must be a gift from the heavens."

James smiled, watching her marvel at the craftsmanship. In his world, this map would have been ordinary, just a printed piece of paper. But here, to someone like Bisera, it was nothing short of a miracle.

Bisera's expression shifted from wonder to focus as she examined the routes. "We must get to Nviom quickly," she said, her tone urgent. "Alexander's army is too large for our forces. We have three cities—Nviom and two others—with 1,000 troops stationed at each. My cavalry is already riding to warn Podem, but I need to organize the retreat of these garrisons before Alexander besieges them. If we can't retreat in time, these garrisons will be lost."

James frowned, looking at her. "So, you have to pull back the 3,000 soldiers from all three cities?"

Bisera nodded, her jaw set. "Yes, and I need to do it quickly. Alexander's forces are relentless, and if they reach the cities before I can organize the retreat, my soldiers will be slaughtered. If all goes according to plan, the emperor should have been informed of the situation by now. Upon hearing the news, he would likely head directly to Podem. So it will be up to me to organize the retreats from these cities."

James took in the gravity of the situation. "So Nviom is just the first step."

"It is," she replied. "And I must make sure we retreat in an orderly fashion, or we'll lose everything."

After checking the map, James started the SUV again, following the route Bisera pointed out. They made a huge detour, heading east toward Nviom to avoid Alexander's men who were located north of them. To Bisera, what was coming up was crucial. She had to organize the retreat and reinforce Podem, the key fortress on Vakeria's southern border, before Alexander's men arrived. It would mean the difference between survival and annihilation for the Vakerian Empire.

As they rumbled over the uneven path, Bisera remained silent, her mind clearly focused on the task ahead. James glanced at her, feeling the weight of the situation as well. They had a long road ahead, but for now, they had a plan, and that was enough.

Then, James's mind drifted back to the past, back to when he was still with Alina.

"God," he muttered under his breath, "what the hell was I thinking?"

Bisera turned her head slightly, catching his words. "What?"

James shook his head quickly, his thoughts derailed by her question. "Nothing. Just... thinking about old times. People I used to know."

She raised an eyebrow, her piercing blue eyes scanning his face. "You sound like you have regrets."

James gave a small, wry smile. "Yeah. I think I do."

Before Bisera could ask any more questions, something else hit James—something much less pleasant. The smell. At first, it had been faint, barely noticeable amid the adrenaline of their escape. But now, as the afternoon wore on, it was undeniable. The cabin of the SUV was beginning to fill with the scent of dried sweat, blood, and the grime of days spent on the battlefield. Bisera had mentioned that she hadn't bathed in a while, and James was starting to understand what she meant.

Subtly, he reached for the air circulation controls, turning them up to full blast, hoping the fresh air would help. When that didn't seem to make much of a difference, he cracked his window open further, letting the cool breeze flow through.

Bisera noticed his movements, her eyes narrowing in amusement. "What are you doing?" she asked, her tone playful.

James laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, just... trying to get some fresh air. You know, clear my head."

Her smirk widened, and she gave him an amused look. "Is the air in here not to your liking?"

He shifted in his seat, still trying to be polite about it. "It could be better, let's say."

Bisera chuckled, the sound rich and full of humor. "Ah, I see. You're troubled by my scent."

James winced slightly, though he couldn't help but laugh along with her. "Troubled is a strong word, but it's... noticeable."

Bisera shook her head, still smiling. "It has been a while since I last bathed," she admitted, her voice light. "Life on campaign doesn't allow for such comforts."

James nodded, trying to keep the conversation light. "I figured as much. No worries, it's not a big deal."

Bisera's eyes twinkled with amusement, but her tone was sincere. "I promise you, at the first safe opportunity, I will get a proper bath. But until then, caution must prevail."

James grinned, appreciating her straightforwardness. "Fair enough."

A moment of silence passed between them, the SUV humming along the uneven path as they navigated through the dense forest. Bisera, still intrigued by James's strange world, broke the quiet.

"Tell me," Bisera began, her tone curious now, "how often do people in your land bathe? You seem quite particular about it."

James chuckled at the innocent question, realizing how different their worlds were. "Well, back home, most people bathe every day. We have access to clean water and soap, and we don't need to go to a river or stream. Water flows into our homes through pipes, and we can make it warm or cold as we like."

Bisera's eyes widened in disbelief. "Every day? With warm water?"

James nodded, smiling at her reaction. "Yes, it's quite common."

Bisera leaned back in her seat, her mind clearly working through this new information. "Your homeland must be a place of great wonder," she said softly, her voice laced with awe. "Even among our nobility, bathing daily would be considered extravagant. And for everyone to have such access... it's remarkable."

James hesitated, realizing that to Bisera, his world must seem like a fantasy.

She glanced at him thoughtfully. "So, you must hold a high station in your society?"

James blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Not exactly. I'm no noble. But I suppose I'm fortunate. In my country, most people have access to these comforts."

Bisera stared at him, disbelief evident in her eyes. "I find it hard to imagine a land where such luxuries are commonplace. Who tends to the labor? Who works the fields and crafts the goods?"

"People do," James replied. "But they are paid for their work, and they choose their own paths. We don't have slaves or servants in the way you might think."

She frowned, trying to comprehend. "But without servants, how do households manage? Who cooks and cleans?"

"Many people handle those tasks themselves," James explained. "Or they might hire someone, but it's by choice, and the workers are compensated."

Bisera shook her head slowly. "It sounds like a tale from a bard—a land where all are equal and free."

James smiled softly. "We strive for equality, though it's not perfect. But we believe in fairness and opportunity for everyone."

She considered this, her expression thoughtful. "Perhaps there is wisdom in such ways. It challenges much of what I know."

James glanced at her, appreciating her openness. "It's different, I know. But maybe we can learn from each other."

Bisera nodded slowly. "Perhaps we can."

Without warning, Bisera's gaze grew distant. "I... I spend my life on the battlefield," she murmured. "I tell myself it's to protect my people, to serve a noble cause. But sometimes I wonder about the cost."

The sudden shift in her tone caught James off guard. He turned to look at her more closely, seeing a vulnerability in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

She continued, "Taking lives, even in war, weighs heavily on the soul."

James, unsure of how to respond, said softly, "I can only imagine."

Bisera bowed her head slightly, her lips moving in a quiet prayer. Her hands clasped together, and for a moment, she seemed far away.

James kept his eyes on the road, giving her space. The SUV bounced gently along the rugged trail, the sound of the engine the only thing breaking the silence of the moment. He wasn't religious, not by any stretch, but seeing Bisera so devout in her beliefs stirred something in him—a deep respect for her conviction.

As Bisera continued her quiet prayer, James couldn't help but reflect on the strangeness of it all. This world wasn't just different; it was a mirror, one where the lines between history and myth blurred. His world had its own chaos, its own struggles, but seeing Bisera so deeply invested in her belief in the Universal Spirit made him wonder if his own world lacked something fundamental—a conviction in something, anything.

Eventually, Bisera straightened up, her face solemn but more at peace. "Thank you," she said quietly, though James wasn't entirely sure if she was speaking to him or to the Spirit she had just prayed to.

James simply nodded, unsure of what to say. Instead, he focused on the road ahead, the path toward Nviom growing clearer with each passing mile.

"Do you often pray?" James asked after a long moment, his voice gentle.

"Only when I feel the need," Bisera glanced at him, her expression softening. "It brings me solace."

James nodded. "Does it help?"

Bisera looked ahead at the winding trail, her gaze steady. "It reminds me of my purpose and brings clarity. So yes, it does."

As they continued on their way toward Nviom, the terrain became rockier, the trees growing sparser as the valley opened up into the flatlands. The roads, if they could be called that, were little more than dirt tracks cut through by the passage of traders and soldiers over centuries. It was rough going even with the SUV's modern capabilities, and James couldn't imagine how anyone had traveled these roads on foot or horseback in the past.

The midday sun beat down on them as they rumbled forward, but with each passing hour, they inched closer to their destination. Nviom was still a long way off, but for now, they had a path. They had hope.

Then, perhaps to lighten the mood, James glanced over at Bisera and grinned. "You know," he began, "I never thought I'd be journeying through a war-torn land with a warrior of legend."

Bisera arched an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. "A warrior of legend? Is that what I am to you?"

"Well," James smirked, "you're certainly no damsel in distress."

She laughed, a melodic sound that seemed to brighten the dusty road ahead. "And you're not exactly a knight from our tales. More like a wanderer with a mysterious chariot."

James feigned offense. "Hey now, I can be quite heroic when the situation demands it."

"I have no doubt," Bisera teased. "You've already proven yourself."

They both laughed, the tension easing as the banter continued. For a moment, the weight of their mission seemed lighter, replaced by the simple joy of shared company.

Part 2

Meanwhile, on the same morning as James and Bisera's escape, the early morning sun cast a pale light over the rugged terrain as Emperor Simon and his entourage began decamping. Their makeshift tents were being dismantled, and the soldiers moved with swift efficiency, stowing gear and securing their mounts. The road ahead wound through the rocky, barren landscape, with the Sparklestar River to the east and the imposing peaks of the Ferris Range looming to the north. Dust stirred underfoot as the emperor's forces prepared to move once more toward Nviom.

There was an uneasy stillness in the air, a tension that had settled over the camp. Word had reached them the previous day that Bisera's army had engaged Alexander's forces at the Sparklestar River, and while the details were scarce, the situation was dire. The battle's outcome remained unknown, and the looming possibility of defeat weighed heavily on everyone. Despite the uncertainty, Emperor Simon maintained a quiet confidence in General Bisera, trusting her strategic genius. But even he could not shake the feeling that today would bring decisive news—whether it be good or bad.

Simon stood near the central fire, his youthful yet noble features illuminated by the early morning light. Despite being only eighteen, his presence commanded the respect of those around him. His sharp blue eyes scanned the horizon, always calculating. His dark, wavy hair, still full of the vitality of youth, framed a face marked by quiet intensity. Though Simon stood just over 170 cm tall, his regal bearing made him seem larger than life. His finely woven tunic, adorned with intricate gold embroidery at the cuffs and collar, and the ceremonial dagger at his side reflected the early responsibilities of his reign. A light, fur-lined mantle hung over his shoulders, suited for the September chill but serving as a reminder of his imperial status.

As the last of the camp was being packed away, the sound of hooves pounding against the rocky ground echoed in the distance. A contingent of 300 cavalrymen appeared, riding hard from the west. Their horses were lathered in sweat, and the men, covered in dust from the road, bore the look of exhaustion and urgency. Leading them was Captain Garros, a seasoned warrior under General Serko's command.

Simon turned as the riders galloped into the clearing. He had been expecting news—hoping, perhaps, for word of a miraculous victory at Sparklestar—but the somber expressions on the cavalrymen's faces told him otherwise.

Garros dismounted first, moving with haste toward the emperor. Despite the urgency, he paused before Simon, bowing deeply as a sign of respect.

"My Emperor," Garros said, his voice hoarse from the long ride. "I bring urgent news from General Serko."

Simon, though his expression remained calm, felt the tension build within him. He did not yet know what fate had befallen Bisera or her army, but his heart pounded in anticipation. "Speak, Captain," Simon said, his tone steady. "What news of the battle?"