[Arathel Siliva]

Arathel's blonde hair waved gently in the breeze. The sound of the horses gruffing after their journey, hooves clottering against the cobblestone road. Her men were very obedient towards her cause, brave and strong-spirited. The two flags carried by the unit held high to mark their presence. The emblem known by many. Arathel paid no attention to those surrounding her. She wasn't arrogant but there was a lot on her mind, mainly Drakes and her Father as this moment in time brought up her past memories. A horn was suddenly heard in the distance. Everyone around her stopped what they were doing. Her eyes started to shake in fear. She hasn't heard that sound since... It wasn't long till she narrowed her eyes in anger. "Drakes. We don't have much time." She barked. With one mighty hand gesture on the reins of her horse. "Argentina quickly now." Argentina screamed and shot forward with her troops following behind her. Kicking up the debris trapped between the cobblestone gaps.

She dismounted Argentine along with her soldiers. Deciding to take only four guards while the others sorted among their supplies and equipment. Walking proudly into the palace. A soldier at every corner of her. Entering the throne room as the guard open the reinforced oak doors. Kneeling to one knee. "My king, surprised to see me? If only my father was here to aid you once more." She kind of disliked the king, blaming him for not supporting the White Paladins sooner. Blaming him for his fathers death but also taking a kind respect to the fact that the Drakes were also to blame. Raising herself up with her guards behind her. The black manes of their helmets looking like they are trying to extend to the ceiling. Heavy shields held tight and swords respectively in their sheaths. Muscular physique. A good example of a soldier.