Within the Town of Elariel,

The former royal residence had, after significant renovations, been transformed into the mayor's estate.

At this moment—

Inside the grand hall where a banquet was underway, candlelight danced across goblets of fine wine and dishes of splendid fare, casting a tempting sheen of gold and crimson upon them.

Kaen stood beneath the flickering light, clad in flowing black robes. Tall and proud, his bearing was regal, his visage unmatched in beauty. Months of immersion in the elements of nature had left a faint radiance lingering around him, as if he were one of the High Elves in secret—glimmering with an otherworldly grace.

He turned to the newcomer and greeted him with a smile.

"So, you are the envoy of Rohan—the diplomat, Cenric?"

"Yes, Your Grace Kaen," the man replied, falling to one knee with utmost reverence. "Permit me to offer you my highest respects. You are as noble and elegant as I have ever beheld."

Gone was the arrogance from Cenric's gaze. In its place now shimmered a devout awe—born of witnessing something sacred.

He swore it: Never had he laid eyes on a man of such divine bearing. If one told him this figure cloaked in sacred light were the reincarnation of the legendary Elven King of Light, he would not doubt it for a moment.

Seeing the envoy's demeanor so utterly humbled, Kaen's eyes sparkled with quiet satisfaction.

When he had received Will's message, he had already understood the character of this man—one who bowed to strength and bullied the weak. That was why Kaen had left the depths of the Ashenwood Forest in person and instructed Sigilion and Cathril to demonstrate just a glimpse of their kingdom's martial might to the Rohirrim diplomat.

He wanted Cenric to know: Though young and recently founded, this kingdom was not one to be trifled with.

It seemed the plan had worked well.

Kaen extended his hand.

An invisible force gently lifted Cenric to his feet.

"I've received your goodwill," Kaen said with a smile. "We are grateful that you journeyed across the vast South to bring us these warhorses. Though this is a trade, what you've done has gone far beyond what was required. I shall remember this favor."

"As for the remaining gold coins, I will have them delivered to you tomorrow, so that this transaction may be completed and you may return with honor."

Hearing this, Cenric let out a subtle breath of relief.

It seemed this northern king had no intention of betraying their deal—a great comfort to the envoy.

"My thanks, Your Grace."

"You have traveled far. Come now, be seated and feast!"

The banquet commenced in full. Wine flowed freely, and dishes were passed from hand to hand. Before long, three rounds of drink had come and gone.

During this time, Will gave Kaen a full account of his journey.

He offered the occasional flattery toward the Kingdom of Rohan—speaking of its vast lands, powerful cavalry, and wise monarch.

To this, Cenric merely responded with polite modesty—though inwardly, he scoffed. Wise king? Please. I know all too well what the current ruler of Rohan is like. This lad certainly has a gift for embellishment.

Finally, just as the banquet was drawing to a close—

Cenric rose to his feet, bowed slightly, and spoke.

"Your Grace, Lord of the North, truthfully, besides delivering the ten thousand warhorses, I have also brought a gift from the King of Rohan himself."

"Oh?"

A flicker of curiosity passed over Kaen's face. "What sort of gift?"

"A horse. One that cannot be measured in gold."

Pride bloomed on Cenric's face as he spoke.

"She stands now in the square outside. You may see her for yourself."

When Kaen heard that it was a horse beyond price, a suspicion already stirred in his heart.

Still, he rose from his seat and led his companions outside.

In the center of the square stood a boxy carriage, draped entirely in white cloth.

"Uncover it," Kaen commanded.

Two guards stepped forward and pulled the cloth away—revealing a tall, magnificent steed.

Kaen's eyes lit up instantly. He stepped forward, gaze fixed upon the creature as he studied it with keen interest.

Cenric raised his voice proudly.

"This is a Mearas—a descendant, it is said, of the steed once ridden by Oromë, Lord of the Valar. She is the leader of all horses, king among stallions, and the noble mount of the Rohan royal bloodline."

"Each Mearas is grand of stature, swift as the wind. Their lifespan and intellect rival that of Men, and they may converse with us."

"By day, their coats shine silver as snow. By night, they darken to grey and blend into the shadows."

"Wherever a Mearas treads, it remembers the land. To ensure she would not return to Rohan, we kept her eyes veiled the entire way here."

"Our king gifts this Mearas to Your Grace Kaen—as a token of friendship between Rohan and Eowenríel."

At these words, all present gave exclamations of awe.

They crowded near the cage, craning their necks to glimpse the rare and fabled steed.

The unfamiliar setting and strange faces left the Mearas anxious. She reared and bucked within the confines of her enclosure, clearly agitated.

Cenric turned to Kaen. "From this day forth, Your Grace, this Mearas is yours."

Kaen gave a small nod.

Saying nothing, he stepped forward to stand before the steed, locking eyes with her.

He extended his spiritual presence—reaching into her mind, attempting to commune.

Yet what he heard surprised him:

"Let me go! Let me go! Cursed Rohirrim! I'll crush your skull with my hind hooves!"

Ah. A wild one indeed.

Kaen couldn't help but laugh softly to himself. With calm intent, he sent a message through the bond of spirit.

"You cannot return to Rohan—but if you choose, this place may become your home."

"Hmm?"

The Mearas paused her furious thrashing and truly noticed the man before her.

To her eyes, this human radiated a light that was pleasing to all equine kin.

"You understand me?"

Mearas were intelligent enough to comprehend human speech, but it was exceedingly rare for a human to understand them in turn.

This alone made Kaen an anomaly—and piqued the mare's curiosity.

"I do," Kaen replied, transmitting his thoughts calmly.

"I am the king of this realm. If you are willing, you may become my companion."

"You mean to ride me? To bind me?"

"No. You would carry me, not as a servant, but as a comrade. Together, we shall forge legends."

"…I like your words. You're nothing like that fool Fengel. I sense wisdom and strength in you—and that light… it comforts me."

"Then… will you follow me?"

"Well…"

Kaen added with a smile, "There are… twenty-nine thousand unmarried mares in my stables."

"…That's acceptable!"

So it was that Kaen stepped forward and personally opened the barred gate of the carriage.

The Mearas emerged, and Kaen mounted her back in one smooth motion.

The sight stunned every onlooker into stillness.

Especially Cenric.

He knew full well the reason this Mearas had been gifted away: she was untamable. Even the royal house of Rohan had failed to break her spirit.

She had once thrown Fengel, king of Rohan himself, from the saddle—leading to this quiet exile.

Who could have foreseen that the same fierce beast, at the very first glance of Kaen, would submit willingly?

Cenric stared at Kaen in open admiration. The reverence in his gaze now was no longer forced by fear—but born of genuine awe.

Kaen sat tall upon the Mearas, a figure of commanding grace. He laughed and declared:

"From this day forth, she shall be called Fierygleam—for her temper blazes like fire, and her form gleams like lightning!"