Valis rose through the ranks in Avene with surprising speed. In just a few short years, he went from a junior officer to a unit commander. He quickly earned a reputation as a brilliant strategist, a calm leader, and a reliable companion, always looking out for his soldiers. But at the same time, he was a bit too demanding and quite stiff when it came to personal relationships.

He was often seen with the Duke. They dined together and plotted their revenge against the House of Ladven while Avene was slowly growing stronger. Ron, every evening, would summon Valis to a quiet war room lit by a single oil lamp. Maps of Ladven were spread across the table with markers positioned over key strongholds. Duke sometimes tapped a worn spot on the map, saying, "Soon,"

Soon, they would be ready to strike. And Valis could hardly wait.

As time passed, new recruits joined the unit. Every single one of them asked the same thing upon their arrival:

Who's that guy standing on the cliff, talking to himself?

Archer Adam, carving arrows sitting on the large rock, would always reply with a bored tone:

"That's your commander. Veragon."

"I've heard he's insanely strong, but... is he alright?," Asked the recruit.

 "Yeah, yeah. Veragon likes to... rehearse his victory speeches." He shrugged his arms.

The recruits usually just nodded, as if that somehow explained everything. None of them suspected that Valis was secretly preparing a speech for his long-awaited meeting with Raven.

"Look at you now, Raven... Can't even meet my eyes. What happened to your confidence?", he was pacing around muttering. "No, no... too smug..."

Val then stopped, striking a dramatic pose atop a rock.

"'You stole my future, so I took your world... No... too... weird."

He took a breath and started again, low and intense:

"'Was it worth it, Raven? Trading love for lies? Trading me?"

He paused. "Okay, okay, not bad. A little more edge. More storm."

His voice cracked, just enough to betray him.

"You broke your promise and threw me out, leaving me to die. I thought I still had you. But I had no one..."

He swallowed hard, let the silence stretch.

Then, as if shaking off the moment, he threw his arms wide with exaggerated flair.

"Ha! Now you can crawl and lick my shoes, Raven... Just like that, wiggle like a worm." He kept talking to himself.

"No, this is awful... Maybe like this..."

A junior officer wandered past, hearing the muttering.

"Sir...?"

Valis spun around, instantly calm, looking the soldier straight in the eyes.

"I'm preparing my speech for the soldiers."

"...Right. Of course." And he quickly left, leaving Valis on his own again.

After a few minutes had passed, Adam looked into the sky. "Oh no, clouds are coming."

"What does it mean?" Asked a young recruit.

Adam sighed. "You're about to find out".

The wind picked up quickly, and a gray wall of clouds loomed over the training grounds.

It's time for the training.

Most commanders would postpone daily exercising. But Valis didn't even blink. Twenty warriors stood in loose formation, eyes shifting between the towering trees and the man at their center. Their commander remained for a long while. Only his cloak fluttered slightly in the breeze. Adam adjusted the grip on his bow. He glanced upward, as if to confirm what they all felt in their bones.

"He picks the worst mornings on purpose," one soldier muttered under his breath.

Another replied, "As if he could predict the weather itself."

They fell quiet when Valis finally spoke. No ceremony. No greetings. Voice level and cold.

"This is your battlefield today," he said.

Thunder cracked, not far off now.

"Form your teams and spar."

The rain arrived like a hammer.

A sheet of water crashed across the field, turning dirt to sludge in moments.

Valis didn't move. He just watched.

In pairs, they went sparring in the storm. Mud covered their boots. Rain blurred their vision. One of the recruits tripped in the mud, crawling for cover behind a broken cart. Another ran face-first into a tree they hadn't seen through the rain. Adam moved silently through it all, eyes sharp, bow silent, like he'd grown up in this storm. The only one without a partner, with just a single target in the distance.

After two brutal hours, they finished their training. Drenched. Exhausted. Covered in scrapes and bruises.

Valis scanned the group. No nod of approval, no words of praise, just a long, unreadable look. Then he turned away. "If you can't fight in the storm," he said over his shoulder, "you won't survive the war."  

...

A few weeks later, a battle alarm blared through the camp.

"To arms! The Eastern Fortress is under siege! Everyone, rally now!" Valis shouted, his voice was cutting through the air like a blade.

The eastern stronghold was a vital position. Losing it could mean losing control of the entire east region, perhaps even the whole territory. From there, the road led straight into the heart of Avene's land.

Within minutes, the unit of twenty hardened warriors under Valis's command was mounted and thundering down the road. Hooves pounded dirt and stone as the trees thickened around them.

They traveled for a few hours, and as they neared the outskirts of the fortress, Valis raised a hand. The group came to a halt, dismounting in practiced silence.

He moved forward under the cover of trees and scanned the area through the branches: the enemy had surrounded the fortress. Charging out would be suicide. The terrain around the stronghold was open, and sneaking in unnoticed was nearly impossible.

'This is impossible...' he thought to himself.

"Could we wait for nightfall?" Adam asked from behind him, adjusting his bow.

Valis shook his head. "No. We'd be too late. By nightfall, they'll have breached the walls."

As he spoke, a catapult in the far field began its slow crawl toward position, an ominous silhouette against the blue sky. Its long arm creaked with each movement.

Valis sighed with a low breath, more like a growl. "We need to find a way,"

He pondered for a few minutes, eventually walking away from the troops, deeper into the forest's shadow and out of their sight. Made sure nobody was watching him closely, then closed his eyes and, focusing on the sky above, summoned dark clouds. 

The sky quickly turned black. Then, the heavens opened. A torrential downpour slammed down, turning dust into mud, fire into steam, and order into chaos.

A wave of panic surged through the enemy troops. Soldiers scrambled to secure their gear and weapons.

Valis returned drenched and gave the order: "Leave the horses! We move on foot. We'll have a better chance to stay hidden."

They left the forest in groups of four, sprinting from the trees to the enemy tents. The pounding rain muffled their steps. And once they took positions behind the tents, they waited for the signal.

Valis lifted his sword high.

With a primal roar, the brigade charged and stormed the enemy from behind. The surprise attack was swift and merciless. Their enemy, prepared for a siege, not a close fight, was caught completely off guard.

Steel met flesh. Screams rose as Valis led the charge, a whirlwind of slashing blades and fury. His sword cut through enemy lines, clearing a brutal path toward the fortress.

Blood and mud mixed beneath their boots.

Only Adam remained in the rear. His face was blank, unmoved. Arrow after arrow flew from his bow, and he slowly pulled one by one, each one hit its mark with deadly precision. He was a reaper in the rear. 

Victory was drawing near when Valis caught a glimpse of danger out of the corner of his eye.

A catapult.

'Shit'

It was already standing in the right place. The ropes were pulled taut, ready to unleash a deadly payload. He closed his eyes. No. He wouldn't let it happen.

He focused. The catapult was quite far; the distance seemed too much, but he concentrated with all his might, trying to sense the air around him. A heartbeat later, a bolt of lightning tore down from the sky, striking the machine with explosive force. The wooden structure burst into flames, and its crew scattered in surprise.

"By the gods..." one of Valis's men whispered in disbelief.

Val smiled faintly.

A few enemy survivors were captured.

The defenders inside, battered and outnumbered, had nearly lost hope until the moment the gates burst open from within, revealing Valis and his warriors cutting down the last of the invaders.

With the fortress secured, Val wasted no time basking in victory. He immediately set to work aiding the wounded, tearing cloth for bandages, lifting rubble to free trapped soldiers, and personally carrying the injured to safety.

His presence was calm, commanding, yet deeply human. To the men and women inside the fortress, Valis was not just a savior that day. He was that very storm that shattered their enemies... and the steady hand that helped them stand again.

When they returned, the story of the fearless son of the Duke, Veragon, who had saved the eastern region from destruction, spread like wildfire. Tales of the hero filled every tavern in Avene, and young boys started to dream of being just like him, righteous and strong.

But Valis avoided the spotlight. He hadn't attended a single public gathering in five years. Secretly, though, he loved listening to stories about himself.

Especially the embellished ones, told by wandering bards and drunken soldiers.

"Have you heard of that commander, Veragon?" Asked one of the young ladies in the local tavern.

"Yes. They say he's really handsome." Answered her another one.

Valis sat nearby, alone at the table, hood drawn low over his brow and a mug of ale in hand. He couldn't help but smirk.

'Handsome? Well... they're not wrong. I'm not bad-looking indeed...'