A soft knock upon the grand oak doors of Flavian's private study announced the arrival of unexpected guests. Buried beneath a mountain of correspondence and imperial paperwork, Flavian called out without lifting his gaze, "Enter."
The heavy doors creaked open to admit two figures. The first was immediately familiar, Jeremy, Master of the Mage Tower, bearing his usual air of easy confidence. Behind him trailed a man of far humbler appearance, robes worn and ink-stained, hair unkempt, and bearing the expression of one more accustomed to shadows than sunlight.
Flavian's eyes narrowed briefly as he studied the second man. Then a recollection sparked. "Welcome, Jeremy, my dear friend, and if I'm not mistaken… Grieg, is it not? I believe we crossed paths during the Grand Tournament."
The man gave a respectful bow. "Indeed, Your Highness. I am Grieg of the Mage Tower."
Flavian inclined his head. "Very well. What matter brings the Tower to my door at this early hour?"
Jeremy, already making himself comfortable upon a velvet-lined settee, responded with a casual grin, "Word reached me that Lady Marlene has made a full recovery and has returned to her former self, in both strength and spirit."
The prince folded the corner of a document, setting it aside with a weary sigh as he seated himself opposite. "Your information serves you well. She has indeed returned to her routine with twice the resolve, it seems. Her time confined to bed has made her restless."
He rubbed the bridge of his nose before fixing Jeremy with a pointed gaze. "Now, tell me why you are truly here. You and I have known each other far too long for such polite diversions. You've not come merely to inquire about my aide's health and certainly not with another magician in tow."
Jeremy's smile widened, but his eyes betrayed something more serious beneath the mirth. "No, Flavian. We bring word of something far less mundane."
"What do you mean?" Flavian asked, his tone sharpening as he leaned forward, the weight of his office momentarily forgotten.
Jeremy crossed one leg over the other, his voice low and measured. "Roughly a week passed, and I sensed something unfamiliar. There was a strange current in the air, mana, but not of our tower's origin. It was potent, wild even, and it came not from within our walls, but from the ancient forest that lies behind the Mage Tower."
Flavian's brows furrowed. The mage tower is surrounded by the wilderness of the forest. The front is the trap laid by the previous owner, but the back has never been touched.
"I thought it prudent to investigate discreetly," Jeremy continued. "And so I sent Greig."
At this, Greig stepped forward, clasping his hands behind his back. His voice was grave. "The outskirts of the forest showed nothing unusual. But as I ventured deeper... I found them. People, Your Highness. An entire community living within the woods, something I have never read of in any archive nor heard whispered in any tale."
Flavian's gaze sharpened. "People? What kind of people?"
Greig nodded. "They appeared ordinary enough, dressed plainly, tending to their tasks. But what caught my attention was the mana. Their bodies were cloaked in it. Not emanating from within, but surrounding them like a shell. A barrier. I tried to discreetly examine one of them, and I found no magic coursing inside, only this strange exterior flow. It's as though some force has placed a spell of protection or enchantment upon them."
Flavian leaned back slowly, his lips pressed in thought. "Those dense woods have long been a natural barrier for the Empire. The records name them the 'Weeping Thorns,' and yet not once have I encountered mention of settlements within. This... cannot be overlooked."
Without hesitation, Flavian called, "Anton."
A moment later, the royal aide appeared with silent efficiency. "Your Highness?"
"Bring my two commanders. We must discuss this at once."
Anton bowed and departed with haste. His steps soon echoed through the stone corridors until he reached the inner grounds of the palace. There, beneath the open sky of the training courtyard, Leesa was in the midst of her drills. Clad in light, functional garments, her hands were bandaged for protection, and her stance was fierce. In each hand were blades, small but deadly. She moved with focused brutality, her knives dancing through the air as they tore through the straw dummy before her. There was a particular elegance to her ferocity, though her choice of weapon still puzzled Anton. Knives were rarely the first choice for martial training on the court.
"Lady Marlene!" Anton called out across the grounds, halting just beyond the perimeter of her relentless form.
Leesa froze mid-slash, panting lightly as she turned toward the voice. "Sir Anton?"
"His Highness requests your presence in his study."
Leesa stepped away from the ruined dummy, wiping sweat from her brow with a linen cloth. "Shall I proceed there at once?"
"If you would please. Also, might you know where Commander Elzar is at present?"
"He departed this morning for the Southern patrol. He should be returning shortly."
"Very well. I shall deliver the summons directly to him. You may go ahead, Lady Marlene."
Leesa offered a brief nod and made her way swiftly toward the palace. A month had passed since her recovery, and her stride was steady, her posture unmarred by weakness. Upon reaching Flavian's office, she knocked once and entered when beckoned. Inside, she found Flavian and Jeremy seated, and her gaze flicked with disapproval at the third man. Greig.
"You summoned me, Sire?"
"Yes, my lady, take a seat. Where is Commander Elzar?"
"Still on patrol, Sire. But he is expected shortly."
"Very well."
Before long, both Elzar and Anton joined them, and once the formalities were exchanged, all eyes turned to Greig. He rose once more and recounted, with greater precision, the strange findings within the forest, the cloaked people, the shield of mana, and the inexplicable enchantments that seemed to veil them from both history and recognition. The room fell to silence, heavy with unspoken questions. Outside, the wind stirred through the garden trees, as though nature itself awaited the decisions yet to be made within.