The pale light of dawn crept through the window, kissing my face. My eyes fluttered open, but a cavernous yawn escaped my lips, and my body felt like lead. Sleep had offered no solace, no escape from the night's torment. Perhaps my eyes remained stubbornly open through the darkness, foreseeing the impending doom that loomed. A crushing weight settled upon me, a harbinger of the utter despair to come.

"Hark," I heard her voice resonating through the door, accompanied by a gentle rapping. "Dost Thou require awakening?"

"Awakening... akin to... cold stone," I stifled a yawn. "What of an hour's reprieve?"

"I have received tidings from Her Holiness that the crowning ceremony shall commence upon thy arrival in the kinborough."

"Ah, let them bide their time," I rose from my bed with sluggish steps, gazing out the window. The sky, tinged with hues of sheen orange, hinted at the passage of time. I muttered under my breath, "By the heavens, I do not have such a time to lift that bloody heavy thing atop my head.”

Dressed for the coming journey, I stepped out of the broken remains of my dwelling. My loyal trio of women awaited me, heads bowed in respect, offering their greetings as the first rays of sun kissed the land. Dawn painted the horizon in gold, a daily ritual, as they took their positions guarding the entrance to my chamber, where I sought respite from the weight of duty.

Emerging from the sacred halls of the town cathedral, I encountered a magnificent carriage adorned with intricate carvings. A throng of joyful townsfolk surrounded it. The young and brisk town chief stepped forward, offering me with two baskets. One overflowed with vibrant sunflowers, the other with freshly harvested potatoes. These potatoes, famed for their quality beyond any found in distant provinces, tempted my morning appetite with their irresistible allure.

"Thousand thanks, Sir Lumer," I bowed in solemn respect and smiled. "I have cherished every braid spent in the enchanting town of Peeke. Though I lament that I am bound by the Church's areading of kinward, I have had the pleasure of savouring thy eestful dishes. Truly astounding!"

"I express my thankfulness for gracing us with Thy being whilst being a hero on this land, Thy Highness," he bowed in return. "Hast Thou also been spoken of the news from Her Holiness?"

“Aye, the crowning ceremony. Frankly, a trey in the arse.”

“Oh, pray, hast Thou endeared more time on thy dearest young erfward than a crown on thy head?”

"For seven years, he hath grown with the bent to read and write… as far as I hope to," I nodded and sighed, dwere lingering in my thoughts. "Yet, I remain unsure if he hath been taught with proper thewfastness, worthiness, and wisdom."

"May the Lady be with him, guiding his path," he bowed once more, tilting his head. Frankly, I felt strangely disconcerted, for much of my time had been devoted to traversing the expanse of our motherland, shending those who dared to inflict harm upon our holy rich. Yet, I had never immersed myself in the intricate world of writwork that shaped the political and economic destiny of the Silerreich. This fact brought upon me a sense of unease, a disquieting burden upon my conscience.

"Aye," I smiled, then turned my gaze towards the carriage behind and took a deep breath. "Pray, allow me to advance forth to the kinborough where I shall fulfil the behotes befitting a future Coasern of Sileland."

I climbed into the carriage and settled into its plush interior. The driver, with a firm command, urged his horses forward, marking the beginning of our journey back to the grand kinborough of Himel. Gazing out the window, I witnessed two thronging lines of townsfolk lining either side of the road as I embarked on my voyage. Three loyal sword-maidens rode on horseback, forming a shield around me. The folk showered my carriage with a rain of purple petals, their faces beaming with warmth and adoration. I could almost make out their lips mouthing words of reverence, uttering, "Blessed be our Kinhallow!"

Kinhallow?

* * *

The long journey finally yielded, revealing the mighty walls of Himel rising before my weary yet determined gaze. Relief washed over me like a cleansing wave. Homecoming had arrived, and with it, the promise of reunion with my beloved son within the embrace of my hoff. A thrill of joy shot through me at the sight of our kinborough, a beacon of both grandeur and solace. Two bustling lines of townsfolk thronged the way, showering our carriage with a glittering rain of gold dust. Their eager eyes, echoing cheers, and radiant smiles wove a tapestry of welcome so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes. Here, amidst the joyous throng, I saw my sanctuary, the Solheim Palace, the sweetest haven my heart could ever know.

“Lovely to see them in fea,” I murmured to myself.

With a wave back, their smiles broadened in delight.

On this day, all labours ceased, replaced by the rapt attention of the throng. We returned in triumph, our hands bearing the spoils of victory. No longer did the shadows of danger and bloodshed linger over our souls. With unwavering resolve and steadfast leadership, we banished our enemies, restoring peace and order to the land. Only fear and regret gnawed at the hearts of those who sowed discord, while joy and solace returned to reign.

Crossing the threshold of the hoff's grand gate, I ventured towards the heart of the homestead, my gaze drawn to my beloved husband, Duke Frank, and our son, Ulrich. Yet, their figures stood strangely still, as if frozen in time. Though a faint smile graced my husband's face, my son's expression lacked the expected joy of a reunion. A pang of sadness pierced my heart at his apparent indifference, for I yearned to be reunited with my precious child.

But the moment I stepped down from the carriage, a wave of excitement surged through Ulrich. He rushed towards me, a torrent of affection overflowing. His arms wrapped around my waist in a tight hug, his body trembling with the joy of seeing his mother again. After nine long years of duty shielding the motherland, during which he remained nestled within the safety of Solheim hoff since his birth, we were finally reunited. It was a heartwarming wonder, a moment I will surely treasure.

“Mama… mama,” he whispered, weeping in bliss as soon as he gazed at my face once again, then hugged tightly. “I longed for thee, mama.”

“Fret not, my dearest son,” I murmured back to Ulrich, with my lips in front of his ear. “Thy mother hath returned at long last, just to see thee once again after fulfilling my promises to the folk of motherland.”

“Thou hast endured arduous trials in thy unwavering willsomeness to shield our motherland, my dearest love,” Frank slowly approached us and interrupted with a sudden gentle exchange of kisses, then smiled. “Thank the Gidden, thou art safe, alive, and as beautiful as thou once were…. Come now, Her Holiness and all of our athels have been awaiting thy being inside the throne room.”

“Aye, allow me to proceed then.”

“As Thou wish, Thy Beloved Majesty,” he bowed.

He reached out, his hand a beacon of comfort. I grasped it firmly, our fingers locking in a reassuring hold. Meanwhile, Ulrich clung to my other hand, his grip tight with the pent-up longing for his mother's embrace. At last, we were reunited, a family bound by blood and love, destined to bring peace and solace to our land and folk. A fervent prayer rose in my heart - that Ulrich would blossom into a wise and just leader, carrying on our legacy even after I was gone.

As we walked through the entrance hall, nearing the grand doors leading to the throne room, two royal knights swung them open with reverence and solemnity. A breathtaking sight unfolded before my eyes - a sea of nobles, standing in two thronging lines, their applause a thunderous echo in my ears. And there, on the majestic throne, sat Her Holiness, her posture composed and regal, anticipating my arrival. It was a testament to the triumph we had secured, a wave of relief washing over the land, even as the shadow of future conflicts loomed on the horizon.

A gleaming silver carpet stretched beneath our feet, its intricate carvings a path leading towards the throne. With each step we took on its shimmering surface, the forgathered nobles drew their polished weapons, and the royal bards blared their bronze trumpets, their music weaving a tapestry of honour. We continued onward, our deliberate steps drawing us closer to the throne, where Her Holiness awaited us with unwavering patience. Finally, we stood before her, hearts brimming with reverence and gratitude.

Courage and loyalty reigned supreme within our warriors and stalwart people. Their strength and resilience were unmatched. They stood firm, unwavering in their devotion to our beloved homeland, unyielding to the hardships that threatened to overwhelm them. Yet, a heavy weight settled upon my heart, O Lady. How could I fulfil my duty when so few truly grasped Your essence and reverence, despite the power bestowed upon me?

As I bowed my head in reverence, kneeling on the floor, a deacon clad in gray robes beside Her Holiness unfurled a scroll and read aloud: “As Thou hath freed from this very hoff, Thou hath sworn Thy folk to find grith and fea after hearing such terrible tidings of raids on the northern towns and villages committed by those Norsian hinderlings, where they wouldst slough men, blaze their homes, and rape their wives and daughters alike. Had no saviours arrived until Thy begotten time of being, dwelled in coming of grith and wolder throughout the motherland. At long last, Thou hast bestowed upon us the miracles of this eld, where folk yearn for mood and wolder eftsoons, an aleesedness from the seemingly endless theedbale. With Thy sword, Thy shield, Thy soul, and Thy faith, we hath cometh here, on behalf of the motherland’s eest, to wolderbee Thee as the Coasern of Sileland… and herry Thee as the Hallow of Grit.”

As Her Holiness rose, I remained kneeling, my head bowed in humble respect. My gaze held hers, unwavering and searching. Another loyal servant approached, bearing a golden crown upon a cushion adorned with yellow bands and gleaming jewels. He knelt before Her Holiness, offering the crown. With a gentle smile, she stepped forward and placed it upon my head. It was a moment of anointment, marking me as the chosen protector of our beloved homeland.

To solidify my highest office, she then grasped a beautifully crafted sword of gold and silver. With a light touch, she tapped each of my shoulders, formally bestowing upon me the mantle of leadership. In that braid, I rose, a surge of strength coursing through me. Standing tall and resolute, I embraced my new role as the Coasern of Sileland.

“For Thou committed such greater deeds among Thy forekind,” Her Holiness spoke. “Thy calling to Lady’s will hast been done, yet more trials wouldst come sooner or later. As a young wielder, Thou must steel Thyself, Thy heer, and Thy folk with heavenly will and guidance… to better our way of life and those of the future generation’s. Insanda, I say unto thee… arise and show Thy being before the very eyes of Thy folk”

As the weight of the crown was about to slightly push me down onto the floor, I instead slowly stood up with my back straight and tight as my brazen sight and faced before a sea of nobles raising their worthy arms and chanting, “O Hail The Coasern of Sileland! O Hail Our Living Hallow! Long Live Our Motherland!”

Soon after, I turned my head behind and ambled towards a balcony behind the throne where folk from the common ward awaited my being.

There, a myriad of commoners flooded along the road of Himel, like a vast ocean's embrace. As I emerged before their awestruck visages, a loud protest of joy burst from their lips! The crown on my brow, burning with majesty, brought them a brilliant hope for the future! The air was alive with the beaming song of the bards, their instruments shouting my praises as kinhelm across the land! Under the watchful gaze of the stars, fate picked its champion: Her Hallow!

“O Hail The Coasern of Sileland!” the crowd chanted. “O Hail Our Living Hallow! Long Live Our Motherland!”

Once a raise of my hand, their shouts slowly waned, obeying my call to the folk of the motherland.

“From the day I was born, my mother died from the utmost efforts to bid for my existence. From the place I grew up… here, in this sacred Solheim, I was maligned… made a gratifying toy by my elder siblings who also had brought you naught, but further ruins. Known that I was to be stabbed in the back and even forsaken by my father, a thankful maid, my dear figure of a mother… Elke, had somehow walked me out of the palace, to be taught, trained, and toiled with utmost care and humility. Then there was once a wandering knight named Anselm who had also fostered me with true knighthood and brought me to the gentle House of Adler, thereby introducing ourselves to the once-young Duke of Samdaz, now my beloved husband—Frank Adler. Thanks to them, I have grown to be a young fighter… and also an adventurer. And thanks to my dutiful experience, I have won the hearts of those who struggled under the chaos across regions, as well as the inevitable doom scorched by those bloody Norsians and fiendish reign made by that vile, pathetic elder sister of mine. And thanks to the glory and virtue, I have finished their wicked rule and now prove our wrath and justice against those greedy Arenians from the East and lowly Norsians from the North. And thanks to our strong and wise host, I have returned to the Solheim Palace great and redeemed its crown and throne upon my brow and weight, by name and blood. Be glad, astounded, for the days of our impending doom art no more or less. Now, as the newly crowned Coasern and revered Kinhallow, the weight of the realm falls upon my shoulders, heavier even than the crown itself. Yet, I bear this burden with unwavering resolve and stand before thee not just as a warrior, but as a leader, a protector. Henceforth, I ask thee… And plain, I ask for thy will and might to shield thy family and folk of the motherland when another doom would come soon. Should they come to avenge, our wrath will be proven much worse than theirs. As this day draws to the terror’s end, I thank thee all… my mighty host and beloved folk from the bottom of my heart… and may Her Lady shower the blessings to come!”

On the sixteenth day of Mittel-Winter, both the Silerreich and the Church of Light proclaimed me: Their Coasern, and the Kinhallow of Peace.