Urian's path was far from simple. Leaving Mizuna was not easy as he had to resort to one of the great teleportation portals located in several of the world's capitals.

Between messenger birds that gave the confirmation to be able to travel and some bribes he had to make to allow a demon like him free movement, he arrived at the capital of the Kingdom of Dyndra, Zirar.

Now in lands where his name, titles, and nicknames carried weight, it was much easier for him to reach his home.

Urian rode all day so that by nightfall, the gates of the city of Rojaun were before him. His imposing bearing on his white horse made him stand out that night to the citizens of the port city he called home.

Peasants, merchants, and courtiers watched him pass by, and once again, they all watched him in awe; his presence and what he meant there was something to highlight.

On the outside, that Warrior stood imposing with an intimidating and even almost superior bearing. Yet, on the inside, he gloated with pride at the glances, murmurs, and reverences that the people of that place bestowed on him. It was curious how until a few days ago, outside of Dyndra, he was treated like any other Marked One. There, he wasn't a demon but a Champion. He was the Champion of House Veelta of Dyndra, perhaps the best fighter in the entire Kingdom, and above all, he was the sword of Countess Carine of Veelta.

The city of Rojaun was smaller than the last port city he visited, Lastrel, but it was certainly much more beautiful, and Urian was glad for that. Rivers flowed through much of the city, allowing the free movement of small boats, and its white stone buildings were mostly by Aeton's finest architects. The place was opulent, but not in an unpleasant way; instead, it looked like what the site itself had earned after much effort. Urian, far from being humble, knew that many of those buildings were due more to the profits he received and not so much because of decisions made in the courts or by his people. Rojaun was his city; if he lived there, he had to live up to it.

Arriving at the coast, the castle of House Veelta stood as the perfect home to live in; years of efforts, centuries in which that family had invested in making it one of the best palaces on the continent made it worthy of its title, The Garden.

Before his imminent arrival, the regents of those lands proposed to dedicate him a well-deserved welcome. The guard played their wind instruments to warn his returning, and the courtiers leaned out of the windows of the courtyard to throw flowers and cheer him on his return home. From the most minor child to the most beautiful courtesan, they applauded him as the Champion he was.

At the end of the road, the Marked Warrior got off his horse and took the steps he had to endure until he reached his mistress. There, the beautiful Countess Carine of Veelta was waiting for her along with her husband, who had once been Baron Pircen of House Nohan, and their son, the heir Sallen.

Urian removed his helmet and quickly pulled back his hair to look more presentable. Then, with his helmet under his arm, he unsheathed his sword, rested it in front of him, and bowed to his mistress.

"Your highness, I have returned home in one piece," Urian exclaimed as he closed his eyes. "In my ways, I have brought for you only glory and honor to place at the highest your name and that of House Veelta."

The Marked Warrior then looked at the Countess, a woman with fine, delicate features, long coppery brown hair, and eyes as blue as the glittering gems that hung from her neck.

The Countess wore a smile that, with her steady gaze, she denoted what kind of braggart he was to her.

"It is an honor to have you home again, Urian." said the Countess. "Get up from the floor; that is not your place."

Urian rose. As the courtiers cheered him, he entered behind his mistress.

"It is good to see you again, Urian," Count Pircen said, extending his hand as an equal as they stood inside the palace doors. The Baron was tall, much taller than Urian, and on his face wore a short beard that usually hid a gentle smile.

Urian smiled at him and shook the man's hand with camaraderie.

"I trust everything was in order around here," Urian said with a smile. "I hope someone didn't cause trouble..."

A couple of steps ahead, the Countess held her son Sallen's hand as she stood attentive to the chatter.

"I hope they're not talking about us," the Countess said with a questioning look and a pout on her thin lips.

"Oh, not at all, your highness," said Urian smiling.

"Where is your cloak?" asked the kid. With piercing blue eyes, the boy turned his gaze to the Warrior. "You had an orange cloak, like the fur of a Cenith."

"Oh, that's right," replied the Champion as he averted his gaze. "I think I lost it over there..."

"You lost your cloak?" asked the Countess, even more inquisitive.

Urian cleared his throat as he avoided eye contact with her, "I had to leave it in the last city I fought in. It was a matter of modesty..."

The Countess and the Baron watched the Champion with intrigue, but soon it was the Baron who asked the question.

"What you wrote in your letter, is it all...?"

"It's all true," he said quickly and directly.

"Even the life you spared?" asked the Countess.

"Everything," replied Urian after a sigh. "From the life to what I did to please that pompous Cardinal of the White Flame. He was desperate when I didn't do what he wanted, but he still paid me."

"I sense that your unfriendly charm won't have had anything to do with the payment," Carine said scathingly.

Urian gave a snort along with a grimace of disgust.

Carine turned her gaze to the front and continued to lead the way.

The Countess, with a sigh, said, "I guess you had no choice. But, at least you made the choice that brought you here again."

Sallen would watch her mother and then turn her head to Urian, following the conversation, even if she didn't understand what they were talking about.

"Watch out for the spy," Urian said with a smirk. "I hope you've been practicing your reflexes like you practice your hearing."

"I've been practicing with my sword!" said the grinning boy. "The Count was practicing with me!"

"Oh, really?" asked Urian as he turned his gaze to Pircen. "Careful, I think he wants to steal your throne..."

"Well, he'll get it eventually," said the black-bearded man. "Until then, he'll have to improve his grip."

Pircen pretended to have a sword in his hand with which he battled the boy in laughter. Urian watched that scene and smiled but soon turned his gaze back to Carine. The elegance of that woman and her beauty were impossible not to observe.

The woman felt that man's eyes on her figure, and she turned her gaze to see him and gave him a smile.

Urian and the royalty crossed the palace from end to end, up to the highest area, where the rooms of both the Countess and the one belonging to the Marked Warrior were located. Down each corridor they walked, an extended glimpse of the palace's immense floral gardens stood; their vines decorated the columns, and the most vibrant and colorful flowers grew just a few steps away. During the day, immersed in the daily humid heat of that place, it was perhaps the place most coveted by that Warrior to whom the natural beauty captivated him, from the flowers of the garden to the woman to whom he had sworn eternal fidelity.

The royal family bade him farewell at the doors of Urian's room.

"I hope everything is as I left it," Urian said teasingly.

"They are still as untouched as your pride," Carine replied quickly.

Urian grimaced and looked at Sallen, "Your mother knows where to strike."

The boy laughed at that, a truth he had seen several times in his mother's court.

"I'll send someone to let you know dinner is ready," Pircen said.

Urian nodded and soon went into his room.

As expected, luxury followed Urian everywhere; his room was spacious, filled with objects and treasures he had earned on his own in battles and as bounties against creatures and aberrations. Silently, he contemplated the place and smiled gladly at the sight of the head of Cenit, the volcanic-furred feline he had killed.

By the time Urian had taken a seat on the bed and removed much of his ostentatious armor, the man stripped off his shirt to bare his torso. The man had several scars on his virile chest, marks that beasts and warriors of his kin had inflicted on him in other times. For an instant, he remembered again that blond man who suffered the impact of the lightning and the other Marked Ones he betrayed for not staining his convictions. Whether that would bring him trouble or not was unknown to him.

Fortunately for him, he would soon leave everything behind as the door next to the Countess's room opened.

There, Carine would peek through this one, then close it behind herself.

"So, did you lose your cloak?" asked Carine with an eyebrow. "Did you lose it in a brothel?"

The man let out a rough laugh and looked at that woman in her lengthy, purplish, ornate dress.

"I gave it to a woman," Urian said as he rose from the bed, walking toward her. "A victim of that chaos..."

Silently, he walked over to that woman, leaving her trapped between him and the door.

The woman looked away, then turned her gaze back to Urian.

"You're lucky I trust you, or I would have had you thrown off your balcony by now."

"I'd like to see you try," Urian said as he stepped forward, closing the distance to Carine's face.

At that moment, a tasteful kiss was orchestrated before them that quickly caught them due to the momentary desire to have each other again. Urian was home again, loving the woman he swore fidelity to.