Sitting alone in the dimly lit study, Alaric cradled his steaming cup of brewed coffee, the faint aroma mingling with the early whispers of dawn. The weight of responsibility pressed on his shoulders like an iron mantle. Morning light creeping through the curtains did little to dispel his somber mood. The rapid increase in nightcrawler attacks had pushed the city to the brink of chaos, and despite countless hours of research, he had yet to uncover the source of their unnatural proliferation.
His fingers flipped through the brittle, ancient pages of the book he had taken from the council. Its cryptic language and obscure references only fueled his frustration. Alaric ran a hand through his hair, the dark strands reflecting his restless nights and endless battles.
A sudden, firm knock echoed through the room, jolting him from his thoughts. Alaric frowned. The hour was far too early for visitors.
"Come in," he said gruffly, setting his cup down.
