The sun had not yet risen, and a faint gray of sea hue hung over the battlefield as Patriarch Ryon of the Taurus family rushed through the cold morning mist. His face was tense, a mixture of worry and frustration etched deep into his expression.
He reached the entrance of the royal tent, the flap swaying in the gentle breeze. Inside, his wife, the matriarch Maya, sat before a swirling circle of incense, deep in a ritual. Her eyes were half-closed in concentration, the air thick with the scent of burning herbs.
Ryon hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. He didn't want to disturb her, but time was slipping away. Standing to the side, he cleared his throat. "Maya, we need a strategy for today's battle."
