It was as busy a day as any other. While men clashed and bled in the mud, where warriors found either their calling or their end, far behind the battle lines, a single man toiled tirelessly to keep the machinery of the empire running.
At a worn wooden desk sat Keval, his fiery red hair catching the dim light in the room's quiet space. One hand held a parchment, eyes scanning the dense lines of text, while his other hand moved swiftly across another page, recording orders, approving requests, and denying others .
Keval worked with an intensity that was almost fierce, his brow knit in concentration as he oversaw every detail, every missive, every decision that kept the empire steady, even amidst the chaos of war
