The Council Chamber of Firelonia was hotter than usual. Not from flames—Queen Naelith had ordered all sun-lanterns dimmed—but from the arguments bouncing off the obsidian walls like sparks trapped in a furnace.
"They answer to him, not to us," barked High Minister Theron, jabbing a finger toward the outward balcony where the new Sunshadow recruits were assembling. "A private guard is one thing. But a mobilized force? Authorized to act beyond the palace? Unacceptable."
Naelith listened without interrupting, back straight, eyes calm. The gold edges of her crown caught the faint light, casting slow drifting rays onto the council table.
"Theron," she said finally, "the Sunshadow Guard exists because we face dangers none of you wish to acknowledge. Thieves bearing Pyronis runes at our borders. Shadowmire seers whispering our names. Aerithral envoys measuring our walls like carpenters. Firelonia cannot be passive."
"It is not your right to deploy them beyond palace grounds without Council vote," Theron pressed.
Naelith folded her hands. "It is my right to protect this kingdom."
Some councilors murmured approval. Others exchanged sharp glances. The divide was growing, and everyone knew it.
Then came the arrival that silenced even Theron.
Sun King Bao Bao stepped into the chamber—broad as a fortress gate, sun-blade resting across his back, hooded dragon hatchling perched on his armored shoulder like a living ember. He carried no arrogance, only presence. The kind that made ministers sit straighter out of instinct.
"My Queen," he said with a respectful bow.
Naelith nodded. She admired his discipline—not as a woman, but as a ruler who recognized strength that could steady a kingdom.
"The Sunshadow Guard is ready for deployment."
The council murmured again, this time with palpable unease.
Bao Bao continued, voice steady. "Scouts report movement near the western ash plains. Unmarked caravans. Too quiet. Too cautious. Nothing official from Pyronis, but the fire signatures match their forging patterns."
"Suspicion," Theron snapped. "Not certainty."
"No," Bao Bao agreed. "But this is the perfect opportunity to test the Guard—not in war, but in discipline. Observation only. No conflict unless necessary."
Naelith rose from her seat, and the murmurs fell away.
"If we refuse to act," she said, "we risk blindness. If we overreact, we risk provocation. A controlled deployment is the balance Firelonia needs."
She turned to Bao Bao. "You will not travel with them. Your presence would escalate tension. But your leadership shapes their strategy. That is enough."
For a brief moment, the Sun King's eyes met hers—two leaders weighing the same future from different thrones. Mutual respect. Shared duty.
Nothing more.
She faced the council again. "The Sunshadow Guard moves at dusk."
The chamber erupted, voices clashing like steel on stone. Yet beneath it all, Naelith sensed the shift. A small one, but real.
The council feared Bao Bao's influence.
They feared her growing reliance on him.
But fear had never led Firelonia. Light had.
And she would not let that change.
Outside, on the balcony, the first Sunshadow units tightened their armor straps and adjusted helms of polished obsidian and gold. Young. Unproven. But they moved with the crisp unity of a force that believed in their purpose.
As the sun dipped and the sky bled orange, the Guard formed a single line, cloaks fluttering in the heated breeze like captured sunlight.
Their first mission awaited.
Firelonia's next era had just taken its first step into the unknown.