Surrounded by dense forests, the envoy of knights set up camp for the night. They tied their horses to nearby trees and arranged their sleeping mats in a circle around a small fire Aedric had kindled. The fire crackled softly, casting shadows that danced along the dark trunks. Two knights ventured deeper into the woods to gather firewood, while Aedric glanced up at Malachi, who perched on a high branch, eyes trained on the forest's edge, alert and watchful."What do you think he's doing up there?" asked a crimson-shielded knight as he settled beside Aedric, adjusting his round glasses with a sheepish smile. "Name's Tom, but everyone calls me Pigsly.""Pigsly?" Aedric raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering across his face.The chubby knight scratched his head, chuckling. "Yeah, when I was a squire, my master had me tend to the pigs. Guess the name stuck. Seems I've got a way with them. You like pigs, by any chance?"Aedric smirked, unsure how to respond to the unexpected question. But before he could answer, another crimson-shielded knight returned to camp with a silver-horned knight, scoffing as he caught the end of Pigsly's introduction."Oh, here we go again," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Pigsly, I doubt a Golden Mane knight wants to hear about your pig pals—unless they come with a title or coat of arms." He shot Aedric a sideways glance, his tone biting.Aedric maintained his composure, though he sensed the edge in the knight's voice. "Not a fan of the Golden Mane, I take it?"The other knight's mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. "More like I don't see how you lot can talk about chivalry while babysitting nobles all day."Before the tension could build further, Pigsly raised a hand, his tone firm. "That's enough, Aaron." Aaron narrowed his eyes, muttering under his breath as he stormed to the edge of the camp, where he leaned against a tree, casting resentful glances back at them.Pigsly sighed and turned to Aedric. "Apologies. Aaron's had a bit of a grudge since he failed the Golden Mane initiation. Eight years is a long time to carry resentment."Aedric's gaze drifted toward Aaron, who was glaring into the shadows. "Joining any order is an honor. He should value that.""Try telling him that." Pigsly's voice was heavy with resignation. He turned to the silver-horned knight, who had taken out a lute and begun playing a soft melody that filled the camp. The notes wove through the night air, calming the group and lending the forest a rare moment of peace. "What about you?" Pigsly asked her. "Got a name?"The knight looked up, smiled, and gestured to a small red flower pinned to her armor."Rose?" Pigsly guessed, and she gave a slight nod, continuing her tune. Aedric and Pigsly shared a bemused shrug."So, Aedric, right?" Pigsly asked, offering a warm grin. "Pleasure to meet you—and you too, Aaron!" he called out with a chuckle. Aaron scowled, shooting him a rude gesture. Unfazed, Pigsly patted his belly as it rumbled. "Alright, snack time! Anyone want something?"He lumbered over to his stout, muscular horse, designed to bear his own ample weight. Aedric shook his head, reclining against his mat to enjoy the music filling the cool night air.Pigsly soon returned with strips of dried pork and sat beside Aedric. "Ever squire for any other order?"Aedric chuckled. "No, but I heard you once trained with the Order of the Stag?"Pigsly winced. "Aye, till I accidentally blew up an entire collection of ancient relics." He looked away, sheepish.Aedric and Rose exchanged shocked glances. Pigsly only shrugged, chewing on his snack. "Long story."At that moment, Malachi descended from his perch with a silent grace, landing at the heart of the camp. His presence radiated an unspoken authority, his eyes sharp and his magical energy palpable. Instantly, the knights gathered, forming a tight circle around him."Our target, Korin, is holed up in this building," Malachi said, his tone as steady as his gaze. With a wave, he conjured a rough, glowing image of a dark, tower-like structure. "We don't know the layout or defenses, so we'll be cautious. But remember," his gaze swept over each knight, "I've chosen each of you for a reason. If anything seems amiss, ignore my rank and speak up. Understood?"The knights nodded, his words settling over them with a weight that transcended rank."Good. I'll take the first watch, then Rose, Pigsly, Aedric, and finally Aaron. We'll rotate every two hours." Malachi stood, his expression softening just slightly. "Get some rest."The knights drifted to their makeshift beds as Malachi, with a deft motion, used air magic to return to his vantage point high above. He resumed his silent vigil over the camp, his eyes ever-watchful.Meanwhile, at the castle...A sleek dark-green carriage with gleaming gold accents rolled into the castle courtyard, its grandeur hard to ignore. As it stopped, a tall man with piercing green eyes and blond hair stepped out, dressed in a high-collared military uniform adorned with a series of medals that shimmered in the twilight. He paused, taking in the looming walls of the castle with a sneer."Can't believe this place is still standing," he muttered as he strode up the grand steps, hands clasped behind his back.Two Golden Mane guards crossed their spears, barring his entrance. "And you are?"The man's lips curled into a wolfish grin. "Baron Thorne, at your service. Or did you forget the man who funds your entire navy?"The guards exchanged wary looks, but after a moment, they stepped aside, one muttering stiffly, "You may enter, sire."Thorne offered a condescending pat on one guard's shoulder, snatching an apple from a passing maid's basket as he entered. His gaze roved over the opulent entrance hall, where nobles mingled, their voices hushed as they assessed him with cautious curiosity. The noblemen and women, preparing for the royal gala, were busy laying groundwork for alliances and discussing potential suitors for their daughters.One portrait at the far end of the hall caught his eye, a painting of the royal family. He recognized Queen Catelyn and King Varrick easily, and the blonde-haired girl—Seraphina—who had once been a close acquaintance. But his gaze lingered on Elara, the youngest princess, and his mouth curved into a smile, unsettling and too broad."Elara..." he whispered to himself. "My sweet beloved. How long I have missed that gentle face." His eyes traced over her painted form as though she were right there in front of him. "Tomorrow, my dear, we'll finally be reunited."