Location: Northern Watchtower, yerus forte.
The wind howled softly across the snowy mountains behind asterras northern walls, carrying with it a bitter chill. At the very top of the watchtower, Ray—the runner boy—squinted against the cold wind blowing violently over his eyes, as he spots movement beyond the northern wall.
Slowly and steadily a single gear wagon driving into view.
"Master Yeru!" Ray shouted, his voice echoing around the tower. "Incoming!"
Below, Master Yeru sat hunched over a desk, his wire-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, quill scratching furiously across parchment. At rays cry, he froze—then a wide, relieved smile spread across his lined face.
"Well, open the gates, lad! Don't keep them waiting!" Yeru barked, his voice warm with excitement as he set the quill aside and rose from his chair, stretching his head out from the window straining to see.
Moments later, Ray tugged hard on a lever, as the northern exit gates plunges open with the groaning sound of iron and hiss of steam, the northern gates parts open, revealing the frozen land beyond. The gear wagon rolled through, its engine humming before finally sputtering to a stop in the yard.
Master Yeru stood outside the watchtower, his breath fogging in the frigid air as he watched the vehicle cool down.
Then the door creaked open.
Revealing Liora, as she stepped down, followed closely by Ardyn and an older woman— Eliora. The driver, Aaron, remained at the wheel, his gloved hands still on the controls.
Moments later, liora, ardyn, eliora and master yeru all gathered in the warmth of the watchtower's room, its walls lined with shelves of maps, and logs.
Master Yeru slowly served steaming tea to each of them. Placing the last cup of tea before Ardyn, then finally takes a seat beside Liora.
"Ardyn, is it?" Yeru asked with a gentle smile.
"Yes, sir," Ardyn replied, his tone respectful.
"You look stronger than the last time I saw you," Yeru said, letting out a chronic cough.
"Thank you, sir," Ardyn said gesturing his head in appreciation.
Then Yeru turned to Liora, his expression softening even further.
"And you, my dear Liora—you look well."
"I do," Liora replied with a faint smile. "And you too, Master Yeru. You look well."
The old man chuckled, the lines around his eyes deepening with joy, then he turned to face Eliora.
"Forgive me, miss, but I don't believe I've been introduced."
"I am Eliora," she said, her voice warm and measured. "One of the survivors from Nareth."
Yeru's face softened even more. "Then I am very glad you are here."
Then he returns his glance back at Liora.
"I worried when I heard nothing for days after you left. Seeing you all safe brings me peace."
"Thank you, Master Yeru," Liora said, taking a sip from her tea. "We worried too. And you know, no messenger bird could make it through these rough winds. We had to wait and return at a safer time."
"That's true," Yeru agrees with a slow nod.
"But we've managed to put together a working system back at valesse Frost Haven," Liora replied, taking another sip of tea.
"Valesse Frost Haven…" Yeru repeated with a small, wistful smile. "A fine name, Liora, it is strong, and It carries the weight of a house valesse." Then his expression grows sober as he set his cup down.
"However, I must give you an update. The sovereign elections will be held three days from now. Lord Marric, acting as sovereign, made the announcement. And the candidates are Marien of House Veymont, Veynar of House Calvasset, and Erry O'Kael of Drakovar."
Then the room fell silent for a while.
Liora's gaze lowered to her cup, her reflection distorted in the swirling tea. Ardyn sat frozen, his face faintly flushed from the steam, but his grip on the cup was tight.
"I have also had no trouble from Drakovar," Yeru continued, his voice calm. "No one has approached this watchtower with questions or suspicion, which means—for now—I can still operate freely."
"The elections…" Liora finally said, her tone stern now, as she set the cup down and leaned forward.
"Master Yeru, may i ask a question… do you think all high nobles would set their differences aside and form a unified attack on eryndor?"
Yeru didn't answer right away, and for a moment the only sound was the faint hiss of the kettle still cooling near the fire.
"I have thought about it day and night" Liora went on, her tone tightening with restrained grief. "But they hated each other too much to plan such a coordinated attack. And yet…" she exhaled slowly. "The evidence against him—it was too precise, too clean. The white lumin plant, the stolen Heavens Blitz… whoever did this was calculating, strategic. They wanted to erase him completely."
Ardyn's grip on the cup tightened further as he stared into the tea, his expression pale, almost hollow, as though the words liora spoke had stirred painful memories within him.
After much silence, Yeru finally speaks, his voice steady and heavy with grief.
"When sworn enemies see a greater threat rise before them, they will unite—if only for a moment—to strike it down. Once the threat is gone, they return to fighting among themselves. Lord Eryndor was such a threat."
He looked toward Liora with deep compassion, his voice softening.
"How they managed to execute such a flawless framing remains a mystery. But i am working toward uncovering the truth as well—for your brother, and for my king."
Lioras lips quivered in grief as yeru spoke.
"I have spies stationed in Calensport," Yeru continued. "They watch, they listen, they send me word even when it risks their lives. Any lead that reveals who orchestrated Eryndor's downfall will be passed to you at Frost Haven. You deserve to know that much liora dear."
Yeru says in such an articulated manner, as it forces lioras eyes to burn with rage, immediately swapping her grief into anger. Her fingers still wrapped around the warm teacup now gripped firmly at it, at last, she let out a slow breath, then a faint and sincere smile settled on her face.
"I feel relieved," she said quietly. "Relieved knowing that justice for Eryndor is not forgotten—that we are still pursuing it. I would gladly give my life to bring justice to every soul who perished for his cause."
Her gaze shifted to Ardyn and Eliora, who both looked down for a moment with sadness in their eyes, though Yeru's words seemed to have given them a fragile spark of hope.
"We are running short on lumin fuel," Liora continued. "And we are also searching for ways to support you. Perhaps we could hunt rare animals near our settlement, or mine minerals to sell through the black markets in the east. We can share the crowns with you—both for our supplies and to fund the investigation into Eryndor's case."
Yeru's weathered face softened.
"You need not trouble yourself with that, child," he said gently.
But Liora shook her head in disagreement.
"It's fine, Master Yeru. You have done so much already. We cannot leave every burden for you to bare. We will find ways to sustain ourselves and to contribute. And also fund the investigations for eryndor"
Yeru studied her for a long moment, then gave a warm smile and an approving nod.
Then Liora reached out to yeru and clasped his hand, her grip filled with warmth.
"We will stay here until after the sovereign elections are done, and i will attend it" she said, her tone firm now. "I want to see marien, kael and veynar with my own eyes, i want to read those nobles, i want to look at them, before I make my decision."
Yeru's face tightened with worry.
"Liora… that is dangerous. What if someone recognizes you?"
"Do not worry," she replied, her voice calm but filled with quiet fire. "I know my way around asterra, we will handle it."
For a moment, Yeru only stared at her. Then, as though his old eyes saw Eryndor's face superimposed over hers, then his sternness melted.
A weight seemed to lift from his shoulders, as he lights up a faint smile.
"Very well, liora," he said softly. "Then we will witness the elections together."
Liora, Ardyn, and Eliora all nodded, sharing a quiet smile.
Location: Unknown.
In a wide field of grass and wildflowers, people moved in endless waves. The atmosphere filled with chatter, laughter, and footsteps—too many people moving around the vast field.
Mira is seen wandered through the crowd, her eyes darting, and searching. Suddenly the faint cry of a baby echoed from a distance as the voice and noise within the crowd goes silent, even as they pressed together and moved around.
"Terrin!" Mira calls out, with a breaking voice.
The childs wail echoed again from the distance. Then Mira pushed forward, her arms stretched, trying to cut through the sea of bodies. But the crowd only grew denser and louder, pressing her back with every step.
"Terrin, my baby!" she screamed, but her voice drowned beneath the chaos.
At last, she saw a glimpse of him—a small child wrapped in a neat blanket, his tiny fists squirming as his cry pierced the air. She pushed harder, desperate to reach him, yet the more she moved, the further he drifted away, swallowed by the tide of faceless figures.
And then Mira snapped her eyes open. It was all a dream.
She gasped at the realization that it was all a dream, as her tears spills from the corners of her eyes.
Soon, the relief of waking up collapsed into horror. She tugged her arms instinctively, only for it to be yanked short by cold iron chains. Her ankles also bound tight within chains.
A rough cloth also pressed against her lips, muffling her voice when she tried to scream.
Then panic clawed at her chest.
The room around her was nothing but shadows and rot. Cracked walls, the floor littered with scraps and tattered cloth. The air reeked of sweat and smoke.
Then came the sounds of a woman's scream from beyond the room mira knelt in.
Men laughing, jeering, their voices rough and ugly.
Mira's breathing increases as she yanked at the chains on her feet and arms until the clatter echoed in the room, but they held firm, too strong to let go.
The door to her room groaned open slowly.
Two figures entered, their shadows long across the floor. One tall, one short. Their shirts soaked with sweat, cigars clenched between their teeth, tattoos sprawling across their arms like twisted vines.
"Well, well. You finally awake."
The tall man sneered, smoke curling from the cigar clenched in his teeth. His laughter echoing through the room, as he stepped closer, his boots pressing hard against the floorboards.