Night cloaked the fortress in uneasy silence. Torches flickered against stone walls, casting long shadows where secrets hid. Kael stood atop the watchtower, eyes scanning the horizon — but his true focus was inward, on the unraveling loyalty within.
Below, Lysara moved like a ghost through the halls, trailing the path of the messages she had found. Each clue tightened the circle. Each step brought her closer.
In the strategy chamber, Riven studied a new map — one marked with strange symbols that only a handful could interpret. His brow furrowed. "This isn't enemy code," he muttered, "it's from the Inner Council..."
A soft knock broke the silence.
A figure entered. It was Eryndor — trusted warrior, loyal for years. Or so they had believed.
"I heard you were looking for traitors," he said smoothly. "Need help?"
Kael descended the tower slowly, his hand never far from the hilt of his blade. "Yes," he replied, voice like ice. "And I believe you're just the man to help us catch one."
In the silence that followed, the weight of truth hung thick in the air.
Tomorrow, everything would change.