Absolute Sovereignty-Chapter 27: Forging Steel

The silence in the training yard was rend with tension, the prince's scathing words hanging in the air. Shock, anger, and a flicker of shame rippled through the ranks of the self-declared warriors assembled before him.

They had expected praise, recognition for answering the call to arms, but instead, they had received a brutal assessment of their inadequacy.

Even Garron, usually unflappable and jovial, stood stunned, his brow furrowed in surprise.

"Do my words hurt you?" Kaelen asked, his voice sharp, his gaze sweeping across their faces, lingering on each individual for a moment. "Well, the truth tends to do that."

He paused, letting the silence amplify his words, allowing them to understand.

"Do you feel rage towards me?" he continued, his voice rising slightly, "or towards your own incompetence? The answer to that question will determine how foolish a man you truly are."

He knew that many of them blamed his actions at the Conclave, a reckless gamble that had put their lives on the line. But he also knew that deep down, they understood the truth. They were not the warriors the ones before them were, the guardians of Caldris.

They were shadows of their ancestors, clinging to a legacy they no longer deserved.

"As you know," Kaelen continued, his voice regaining its steady cadence, "we are about to go to war. A war I started, yes, but a war we must all face together, or risk losing everything we hold most dear." He paused, his gaze sweeping across the yard once more.

"And Caldris... Caldris cannot afford your weakness. Or my... drunken stupidity." He allowed a flicker of self-deprecating humor to surface, a brief acknowledgment of his past failings, a move to have them believe he was one of them.

"We must face our flaws. And correct them."

He stepped forward, his gaze hardening.

"In the coming days, before the war with Xarnis begins, you will undergo training. Rigorous training, unlike anything you have experienced before," he declared, his voice ringing with authority. "You will be molded. Broken. Reforged." He paused, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light.

"And in the process, some of you... may die... will die."

A wave of unease rippled through the ranks, the soldiers shifting nervously under his intense gaze. They knew his words were more a promise than a threat.

"But those who persevere," Kaelen continued, his voice softening slightly, "those who survive... will be forged into something... worthy of the name you bear. You will become... true Silent Guards."

He turned and gestured towards Garron and a woman who stood slightly apart from the other soldiers, her armor polished, her bearing radiating an air of quiet competence. Commander Lyra, the leader of the Silent Guard, a woman whose loyalty to Caldris was as unwavering as her skill with a blade.

"Garron, Commander Lyra," he said, "a word, if you please."

He turned and walked towards a nearby tent, his footsteps echoing on the packed earth, and left the gathered soldiers to contemplate the weight of his words, their faces a mix of determination, fear, and a flicker of something akin to... hope.

Inside the tent, the atmosphere was tense. Commander Lyra's face was set in a grim expression, her eyes narrowed with disapproval.

"That was no way to raise their morale, Kaelen," she protested, her voice sharp. "Those men are tired, demoralized, but above all they are loyal. They need encouragement, inspiration, not... that."

"Good," Kaelen replied, his voice cold. "Because I had no intention of boosting any morales. I merely offered a warning. The same warning I offer you now." He turned his gaze towards her, his eyes like chips of ice.

"It's Prince Kaelen to you, Commander," he said, his voice low and dangerous, a clear reminder of his authority, an authority she had so easily dismissed.

"And I will not tolerate insubordination. Not now. Not in these times."

Lyra's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face.

She had served under King Alden for many years, had grown accustomed to his gentle leadership, his reluctance to exert his authority. But she had no recollection of Kaelen when he was younger.

It was clear, from the intensity in his gaze, that the Ash Prince, drunkard or not, was a different breed entirely.

"My apologies, Your Highness," she said, her voice stiff but respectful. "I meant no disrespect. I simply believe that..."

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"Beliefs are irrelevant, Commander," Kaelen interrupted, his voice cutting through her words. "Results are all that matter. And right now, the only result I care about is victory, survival, of the very people you are meant to serve. Do you understand?"

Lyra nodded, her gaze met his. "Yes, Your Highness. I understand."

"Good," Kaelen said, a flicker of approval in his eyes.