In the courtyard, three large litters were lined up, the passengers already inside. ‘Taking shelter from the cold, no doubt,’ incurred Dene. From each side of the vehicles, hanged a twelve feet tall green banner with the image of a red dragon, which were extended over the snow-covered grass.

Perched upon the battlements in the distance were its carriers. Three gigantic brown eagles, not different from the one that brought Dene here.

‘Probably from the same species,’ she thought.

Most of the time they remained motionless, only moving to preen themselves after the occasional snowflake managed to land on them.

Dene and Jonathan made their way towards the rightmost litter. As they got closer, he pulled ahead to open the door for her.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Like Jonathan’s bedroom, the inside of the litter had temperature control. Its warm temperature was only slightly diminished by Angela’s presence in it.

“Took you long enough,” a voice came from outside in one of the other litters.

“Perfection takes times,” Jonathan opened one of the windows to answer his brother Richard. “You would know that if you weren’t a little shit.” The two brothers got along as well as ever.

“Jonathan, more respect please,” Dene chimed in. “Your brother is not little, he’s a big shit.”

Having served his daily duty as a target for mockery, Richard slammed his window shut.

“My lord,” Angela spoke, ignoring Jonathan’s shadow. “You shouldn’t treat your brother like that. Despite everything, you’re both still family.”

“In name only, as I still can’t prove he’s the spawn of a demon with a moron.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll start treating him with respect when he starts behaving with honor.”

Having said that he took his seat by Dene’s side, no longer wanting to talk about this.

With everyone already inside, the three magical beasts came soaring down one after the other, each hovering for a second to grab a litter then flying up.

Some of the other students inside made small talk with Jonathan, about his possible marriage or hoping for him to create a new record at the next king’s tourney.

Then the subject moved on, to who would get a spot to La Louisiane this year, if a new conflict would erupt between whatever Houses, or complain about the increase in taxes.

Dene had no interest in most of these subjects, and for those she did, she’d talk about it with Jonathan. Everyone else inside acted as if she wasn’t there, and Dene was all too happy to not have to talk to them.

Angela expressed her discontent with the Solis empire, and how they held no respect for the northern kingdoms' culture or years of history. “They see us as nothing more than uncivilized barbarians,” she complained.

The irony was not lost on Dene.

But above all else, one phrase would always pop up whenever they talked about tomorrow’s battles.

The dragon will swallow the sparrow.

They repeated like a mantra, which Dene knew would only get worse during the actual fighting.

A sparrow over a tree branch, Olsandre’s coat of arms when they were still a cadet branch to House Olsen. After taking part in a failed revolt, the House was completely destroyed. Or at least, that what was believed.

One of the lord’s sons managed to survive and escaped to the neighboring duchy. There, he married the daughter of an Earl and refounded the Olsandre house, changing its coat of arms to an eagle flying forward. After a couple of centuries, they had grown so much that lord Olsandre became a marquess. The eagle was fast.

Most likely, they would have continued to grow. That is, if not for the war that came to their doorstep. The War of the three Queens.

Seven centuries ago, King Aston III died without leaving any heir, but he had fathered three daughters, Tilly, Skyllar and Halle Catton. By Gwynland’s laws at the time, women were excluded from the succession line in favor of male children. When that hadn’t been possible, there was an instance of the king’s grandson assuming the throne.

But it couldn't be applied in this case, and the next ruler would have to be chosen from one of the three daughters. And what better way to decide than through a war? Whoever was alive by the end of it won.

And so for half a century, Gwynland was the stage to the bloodiest civil war the northern kingdoms had ever seen.

In the first years of the war, House Olsandre was destroyed for the second time in its history. And also for the second time in its history, one of them survived. Alistair Olsandre had barely finished his seven years of studies when war broke out.

After his House was destroyed he became a sellsword, distinguishing himself in battle after battle. It wasn’t long before he had his own free company, which only grew as the conflict went on. Forty years into the war, he and his men came under the employ of the second of the sisters, Skyllar Catton.

The war would last for eight more years, but to some, this was the moment its result had been set.

Alistair went on to win every battle he took part on, first crushing Halle’s forces to the north, then marching south towards the capital, where Tilly had fortified herself. He personally brought both their heads to Skyllar and was rewarded with a duchy along with a promise of marriage between their children.

And so, for the second time in its history, House Olsandre rose from the ashes, coming back even stronger. The choice for their coat of arms had become obvious at that point.

From all the things she studied since coming here, this was the only one Dene enjoyed. It gave her hope. Hope that one day her people would rise up and be free again, coming out even stronger than before.

…

It was still day by the time they finally landed in the campus of Phoenix Academy, in the heart of Alistown. That was the duchy’s main city and Olsandre’s seat of power, named as such by Alistair after being rewarded the duchy. The man may have been a brilliant general, but he had a terrible sense for names.

After disembarking from their litters, the group was received by the academy’s headmaster, along with a special envoy sent by Duke Olsandre. Although the headmaster was the one supposed to welcome them, the one who most drew attention was the envoy. Above all from Dene.

In a blue, winter dress and a white fur scarf, she stood a full head taller than the old headmaster. Her dark brown skin and dreadlocked hair up to her shoulders left no doubt where she had come from.

Just as Dene’s gaze was fixed on her, the envoy stared back at Dene. It had been more than four years since they last saw each other.

Dene smiled while fighting against the tears that formed in her eyes, and she knew her sister was having the same problem.

Dene’s sister and best friend, Dandara.