"I shall speak something, and I shall… hope for you to be calm," Lasha said. "A letter came for you. Verdant said that I should be able to open it on your behalf, given the seal."
"What letter?" Oliver said. "What news has come for me?" He was not the largest of men, but in his dread then, he towered over her.
The woman shrank back by the slimmest of degrees, and then she locked her feet, forcing herself to stand firm. "I should not be the one to deliver this news to you. I am not good at such things. But I opened it. So I will bear that duty. News has come from Solgrim – it has been attacked."
Oliver lifted his eyes. He could look at her no longer. He found comfort in the blue of the sky. That comfort lasted only for the barest few seconds. Then that blue looked sickly. He began to wonder why it was that the Gods had picked that, above all shades. The black of the night was something he longed for instead. Anything to escape that overwhelming brightness.
