The wind howled against the stone walls of the citadel as Lady Seren made her way to the war council room. Her mind was awash with conflicting thoughts—fear for her father's failing health, concern for her brother's heavy burden, and now, the growing threat from beyond the borders of Tharavara. The stakes had never been higher, and every decision from this point on would determine not only the future of their family but the very survival of the empire.
Rowan had left her side after their emotional conversation, needing time to consult with his military commanders about Ebonwind and its unsettling maneuvers along the northern border. But Seren had her own path to walk—one that would require both strategy and subtlety. She needed to know who, among the other six kingdoms of the empire, could be trusted in the days to come—and who might be poised to exploit Tharavara's moment of weakness.
The heavy oak door creaked as Seren pushed it open, stepping into the war council room. A large, circular table dominated the space, adorned with a detailed map of the empire, its seven kingdoms laid out in delicate ink strokes and faded colors. Candles flickered in the sconces on the walls, casting long shadows that danced across the worn stone floor.
Already seated at the table was Lord Lucian, his sharp gaze focused on a parchment in front of him. The trusted advisor had been a constant presence in their lives, his wisdom and guidance invaluable, especially in these troubled times. He looked up as Seren entered, offering her a small but reassuring nod.
"Seren," he greeted her, his voice low but steady. "I've been expecting you."
She returned the nod, though her mind was far from calm. "Is Rowan on his way?"
"He'll be here soon," Lucian replied. "He's making final arrangements with the commanders."
Seren moved to the table, her fingers brushing over the map as she took her seat across from Lucian. Her eyes traced the borders of the seven kingdoms, lingering on Ebonwind's northern territories, then drifting east toward the other realms. Each kingdom had its own strengths and ambitions, and though they all swore loyalty to the empire, Seren knew that loyalty could be fleeting—especially in times of crisis.
The door creaked open once more, and Rowan entered the room. His face was drawn with fatigue, but his eyes burned with the same determination Seren had seen earlier. He gave a nod to both of them before taking his seat at the head of the table.
"Thank you for gathering here," Rowan began, his tone grave. "We don't have much time, so let's speak plainly. Ebonwind is a concern, but it's only the beginning. We need to assess the loyalties of the other kingdoms—and fast."
Seren leaned forward, her gaze locking with Rowan's. "That's exactly why we're here. I've been thinking about how we can gauge the intentions of the other rulers without revealing too much of our own hand. If we approach them openly, they'll know we're seeking alliances out of desperation."
Rowan nodded slowly, his brow furrowing. "Then what's your plan?"
Seren hesitated for only a moment before speaking. "We send ravens. To each of the six kingdoms. But not with a plea for help—we send them with a carefully crafted falsehood."
Lucian raised an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious. "A falsehood? Go on."
Seren took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "We send word that an outside threat—someone beyond the borders of Tharavara—is preparing to strike. A foreign king seeking revenge for an old grievance. We make it sound plausible, but vague enough that it forces each ruler to respond, either with offers of aid or with suspicion. In doing so, we can see where their true loyalties lie. If any of them refuse to help or hesitate, it will reveal their intentions. And if they inquire further or offer aid, we know we may have allies."
Rowan's expression darkened as he considered the implications. "You're suggesting we manipulate them into showing their hand?"
"Yes," Seren replied firmly. "We need to know who will stand with us and who might betray us. If Varrick of Ebonwind is posturing, there's a chance others are watching, waiting for a sign of weakness. We need to flush them out before they can make their move."
Lucian leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "It's a bold plan," he mused. "And it could work, but it's also dangerous. If they suspect we're lying—"
"They won't," Seren interrupted. "We craft the message carefully. Make it seem credible, but not too specific. They'll believe the threat is real, or at least real enough to act. And in the process, they'll reveal where they stand."
Rowan's eyes flickered with hesitation, but he could see the merit in Seren's proposal. "What exactly will we tell them?" he asked.
Seren gestured toward the map, her fingers tracing the northern border of Tharavara. "We tell them that a king from the far north—someone beyond our known territories—has been amassing forces for years, waiting for the right moment to strike. We claim that spies have uncovered whispers of an impending invasion, and that Tharavara may be the target. The details don't need to be too specific. The important part is that it suggests a common threat—something that could unite the other kingdoms, or at the very least, make them show where their priorities lie."
Lucian studied the map, his keen eyes following Seren's movements. "If we imply that the threat is from outside the empire, it could also give us an excuse to mobilize our forces without appearing to target Ebonwind directly," he noted.
"Exactly," Seren agreed. "It gives us cover to prepare for a larger conflict, while also forcing the other kingdoms to react."
Rowan sat back in his chair, his mind racing. He wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of deception, but he knew they were running out of options. The empire was fragile, and they couldn't afford to be blindsided by disloyalty or betrayal from within. If this plan could reveal who could be trusted—and who couldn't—it might just give them the advantage they needed.
"And what of Father?" Rowan asked after a moment, his voice heavy with the weight of his question. "He won't approve of this deception."
Seren's expression softened, a flicker of sadness passing over her face. "Father isn't aware of the full extent of the danger we're facing," she said quietly. "And he's too ill to be burdened with this now. We have to protect the empire, Rowan. For him."
Rowan nodded slowly, his resolve hardening. "You're right. We'll do this, but we must tread carefully. If any of the kingdoms suspect we're lying, it could backfire."
"We'll be cautious," Seren promised. "The messages will be crafted with care, and we'll send them through the master of ravens. No one will know of this plan except for us."
At that moment, the door to the chamber opened, and the master of ravens, a tall, gaunt man with sharp features and piercing eyes, stepped into the room. He bowed low, his dark robes rustling as he approached the table.
"My lord, my lady," he greeted them in a gravelly voice. "You summoned me?"
Rowan gestured for the man to approach. "We have a delicate task for you," he said. "Lady Seren will explain."
Seren stood, her expression firm as she addressed the master of ravens. "We need you to send messages to the rulers of the six kingdoms. The contents of these messages are of the utmost importance, and they must be delivered discreetly and without delay."
The master of ravens nodded, his sharp eyes gleaming with understanding. "I live to serve the crown. What message shall I send?"
Seren glanced at Rowan, who gave her a slight nod of approval. She turned back to the master of ravens, her voice steady and commanding.
"You will send word of a threat—a king from the far north who seeks revenge on Tharavara. Tell them that our spies have uncovered plans of an invasion, and that we seek the support of our fellow kingdoms to defend the empire. Make it clear that we are asking for their aid, but do not give too many details. We want to see how they react."
The master of ravens bowed once more, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "It will be done as you command, my lady."
"Make sure the messages reach their targets quickly," Seren added, her tone sharp. "Time is of the essence."
With another low bow, the master of ravens turned and left the room, his dark cloak billowing behind him like a shadow.
As the door closed behind him, Rowan let out a slow breath, his shoulders sagging slightly with the weight of what they had just set in motion.
"We've cast our net," he said quietly, turning to Seren. "Now we wait to see who takes the bait."
Seren nodded, her gaze hard and unyielding. "And when they do, we'll be ready."
---
The chamber deep within the citadel was dimly lit, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows against the cold stone walls. The faint cooing of birds echoed softly through the corridors, a soothing yet eerie contrast to the tension that hung in the air. The Master of Ravens, an older man with graying hair and a cloak as dark as midnight, moved silently among his feathered companions. His weathered hands, steady from years of practice, worked meticulously as he prepared the ravens for their most important task yet.
In the center of the room sat a large wooden table, upon which lay six small pieces of parchment, each bearing the intricate seal of the Empire of Tharavara. It was an unusual choice—one that Lady Seren had insisted upon during the meeting with her brother, King Rowan, and their trusted confidant, Lord Lucian. Typically, messages sent from Verdantia would bear the local seal of their kingdom, but this time, they needed to speak with the authority of the entire empire. This was not merely a matter of Verdantia's interests—it was a call to action for the whole of Tharavara.
The Master of Ravens carefully lifted one of the parchments, his sharp eyes scanning the message written in Lady Seren's elegant but forceful hand:
"To the sovereign of [Kingdom Name],
We bring grave news. There are whispers that forces outside the Empire are preparing to strike at the heart of Tharavara. Though no kingdom is named, the threat is real, and we must stand united. Trust no one outside our borders. Act with caution.
—By Order of the Crown of Tharavara"
It was a carefully crafted lie, but one that served a greater purpose. Lady Seren had devised the plan to send these false warnings, stirring the rulers of the other six kingdoms to action. If any of them harbored ill will toward Emperor Eldryn or sought to capitalize on his failing health, this would either draw them out or force them to reassess their intentions. The lie would cast suspicion outward, towards some vague foreign threat, and buy them time to shore up their defenses—and possibly expose the empire's true enemies from within.
The Master of Ravens, known simply as Varyn, moved to the back of the chamber where the cages stood, each one containing a sleek, black raven. These were no ordinary birds. Ravens had always been used in the empire for communication, but these were hand-picked and trained for their intelligence and speed. Each raven knew the way to its destination as surely as it knew the way back home.
"Easy now," Varyn murmured as he opened the first cage, his tone gentle but authoritative. The raven within cocked its head, regarding him with sharp, intelligent eyes. It was the largest of the birds, one that had served as a messenger for the empire for years. Varyn had named this one Stormwing for its swift and powerful flight. As he gently coaxed the bird onto his gloved arm, he could feel the steady pulse of its heartbeat beneath the soft feathers.
With careful precision, Varyn secured the small scroll to Stormwing's leg, fastening it with a leather band. The seal of Tharavara glistened faintly in the dim light, a reminder of the weight of this message. Once the scroll was secure, Varyn walked to the open window at the far end of the chamber. The night air was cool, and the vast expanse of sky stretched out before them, with the silhouette of Verdantia's city lights glowing faintly in the distance.
"Go now," Varyn whispered, extending his arm. "Fly fast and true."
With a powerful beat of its wings, Stormwing took flight, soaring out into the night. Varyn watched as the raven ascended higher, its black form vanishing into the darkness. Its destination was the kingdom of Ebonwind, the northernmost kingdom and the one that concerned them the most. Queen Nyssa and her son, Prince Varrick, ruled over a land shrouded in darkness, its forests thick with mist and shadows. The Prince had grown increasingly ambitious in recent years, and rumors of his border skirmishes had not gone unnoticed. This message was meant to both warn and test him. If Varrick responded aggressively or hesitated too long, it would reveal much about his true intentions.
Varyn returned to the table, his movements quick and efficient. One by one, he prepared the remaining ravens, each destined for one of the six kingdoms of Tharavara. The second raven, Shadowfeather, was smaller but no less swift. Its path would take it east, toward the coastal kingdom of Aramoor, ruled by Queen Amara. The cliffs and oceans of Aramoor provided a natural defense, and the kingdom's powerful navy was known for patrolling its waters vigilantly. Queen Amara, sharp-witted and fierce, had always been a steadfast ruler, but there was a growing tension between her and the empire. Lady Seren suspected that if anyone in the empire could see through their ruse, it would be Amara. But Varyn also knew that the Queen valued the empire's stability above all else, and the mere suggestion of an outside threat would make her cautious.
As Shadowfeather took off into the night, Varyn repeated the process for the remaining four birds.
Windclaw would head south to the sun-drenched plains of Solari, where King Dorian ruled over a prosperous and fertile land. Solari's wealth lay in its vineyards, orchards, and vast farmlands, making it the agricultural powerhouse of the empire. But its proximity to the Silver Sea meant it also served as a vital trade route, a factor that made Solari both wealthy and vulnerable. King Dorian had always been pragmatic, known for his love of peace and prosperity, but Varyn wondered how he would react to the news of a possible external threat. Would he move to secure his borders, or would he rally his kingdom to the empire's defense? The raven's arrival in Solari would be the first step in testing Dorian's resolve.
The next raven, Ironbeak, was sent west to the rugged, mountainous kingdom of Drakmere, ruled by King Kael. Drakmere's wealth came from its mines and its harsh, unforgiving terrain. The people of Drakmere were strong, used to the isolation that the Elderstone Mountains provided, and their loyalty to the empire had never been in question. But King Kael was not a man to be trifled with. He ruled with a firm hand, and his kingdom was one of the few that could mobilize an army quickly, thanks to its access to precious minerals and resources. If there was any sign of weakness from the empire, Varyn knew that Kael would exploit it. The message to Drakmere would be as much a test of his loyalty as it was a warning.
The fifth raven, Nightshade, was bound for Zephyris, the kingdom of open plains and rolling hills, ruled by Queen Isolde. Zephyris was known for its artistic culture, its vibrant cities, and its love of freedom. Queen Isolde had always been a popular figure among her people, admired for her beauty and grace as much as for her diplomatic skill. But Zephyris was also a land of poets and dreamers, not warriors. If a conflict were to arise, the kingdom would be slow to act. The message to Isolde would need to ignite a sense of urgency within her court, something that Lady Seren hoped the imperial seal would accomplish. As Nightshade flew off into the night, Varyn could only hope that the queen would heed the warning.
Finally, Varyn prepared the last raven, Frostwing, a strong and seasoned bird destined for Nymbria, the peaceful kingdom of lakes and forests, ruled by King Magnus. Nymbria had always been a land of serenity, where scholars and artists flourished in the tranquility of its landscapes. King Magnus was known for his wisdom and restraint, but such peace could easily make a ruler complacent. Varyn knew that if war were to come, Nymbria's serene beauty could quickly turn to ashes. The message to Magnus was perhaps the most crucial of all, as his support could tip the balance of power in favor of the empire.
With one final, steady breath, Varyn opened the last window. The night sky was darker now, clouds obscuring the stars, and a gentle wind rustled through the trees below. He released Frostwing, watching as the bird flew out into the night, its wings cutting through the air with silent grace.
One by one, the six ravens vanished into the vast expanse, each carrying its carefully crafted message to the far corners of the empire. The silence that followed was thick with anticipation, as if the very air itself was holding its breath, waiting for the responses that would come.
Varyn stood at the window for a long while, his eyes tracing the paths the birds had taken. The fate of the empire now lay in the hands of those six kingdoms—and in the delicate balance of trust and deception that Lady Seren had so masterfully orchestrated.
All that remained was to wait.
To Be Continued...