The midday sun blazed over the palace gardens, its glare bouncing off the marble fountain like shards of fire. Beneath the pergola, heavy with wisteria vines, the air froze. Emperor Dietrich clenched a scroll so tightly the fine parchment crumpled and squealed in protest.
That morning, the palace had been rocked by a letter from Duke Matthias, straight from the valley of Vesperia. A letter that made it seem as if Dietrich had signed the man's death warrant himself. But Matthias had proved far harder to bury than anyone expected.
The report read like a requiem penned in black ink. Vesperia was goneits city hollowed into a graveyard, every inch of soil a mass tomb. Even the noble family ruling there had been wiped out, leaving not a single survivor.
Worse still, Matthias warned of strange movements along the southeastern border. Zylos troops were stirring, perhaps preparing for an assault. He urged the palace to issue an ultimatum, to fortify defenses, to ready soldiers for war.
