「Status Update」
Location: Castle York (House Norwen)
Threat Level: Low
Active Hellschisms: 0
Order Presence: Limited
Available Resources: Scarce
Current Mission: Establish External Contacts
Orien Majere stood at the base of the eastern wall, running his thumb along a fresh rune drawn earlier that morning. The paint had dried to a dull sheen, capturing his quiet whisper of magic. He could feel the hum beneath his fingertips—slight, but enough to matter. He nodded in approval, then stepped back.
A dull thump echoed from the gatehouse overhead. Moments later, Sir Alden leaned out from the walkway, calling down, "Majere! A rider approaches. Looks like a messenger's banner. House Chigan's colors!"
Orien raised his head, shielding his eyes against the bright sky. He caught a glimpse of movement beyond the walls. He did not wait for instructions. Instead, he climbed a narrow wooden ladder propped against the inner rampart. At the top, Alden pointed beyond the battlements. A lone rider trotted toward Castle York, cloak fluttering, carrying a tall staff topped with frayed ribbons of green and rust-brown. Chigan's standard, if Orien recalled correctly.
Corene joined them on the walkway. She scanned the horizon, lips pressed thin. "Chigan seldom sends word without cause. Let's see what they want."
A guard stationed at the main gate called down, "Open?" Corene glanced at Orien, then nodded curtly to the guard. Chains rattled, tested yesterday and improved today, lowering the outer gate. The sound was steadier than before. Orien noted the subtle pride in Corene's eyes as the gate functioned without stuttering.
They descended together. By the time Orien and Corene reached the courtyard, the Chigan rider had passed inside and now dismounted near a trough. The rider pulled back a hood, revealing a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and wind-chapped cheeks. Her chest rose and fell as if she had ridden hard.
Several House Norwen retainers hovered at a safe distance. One offered water. She accepted with a nod, drinking deeply before speaking. "I am Meraine, envoy of House Chigan," she said, voice steady. "I seek whoever holds authority here. Matters of supply and security bring me."
Steward Biren emerged from the shadows of an arched doorway, smoothing his tunic. Behind him walked a scribe and two guards. Corene stood to his left, Orien to his right. Alden hung back slightly, watchful.
Biren addressed the rider: "Meraine of Chigan, we welcome you. What news do you bring?"
Meraine squared her shoulders. "We've reinforced certain routes near Castle Ago, as suggested by a vigilant soul who passed through—" Her gaze flicked over the gathered faces, searching. "We found scraps of advice in old records, encouraging early watchfulness. Now I hear that Castle York has begun to mend its defenses as well." She paused, catching Orien's eye. "Word spreads that a mage helped seal a rift here. I come to learn more."
Orien remained quiet, letting Biren guide the exchange. The steward cleared his throat. "We've taken measures. Our chains stand stronger, our wards more stable. What does House Chigan want from us?"
Meraine stepped forward, hitching her staff under one arm. "Chigan struggles with ensuring steady supplies. We've routes guarded now, as you advised through your… indirect messages. But rumors say you know ways to reinforce equipment and apply wards even without endless stockpiles of ore or grain. We're willing to trade."
Orien caught Corene's curious glance. She had asked for a chance to share knowledge beyond these walls. Now opportunity knocked sooner than expected.
Steward Biren lifted a hand. "Trade what, Meraine?"
The Chigan envoy tapped her staff on the ground. "We bring improved scouting reports. If you share methods of quick fortifications and runic enhancements, we can deliver early warnings of Hellschisms forming near our borders. With that knowledge, you'd have time to reinforce or evacuate as needed."
Biren's brows knitted. He looked to Corene, then to Orien. The steward's hesitation was plain. House Norwen had only just regained footing. Sharing techniques might risk their edge.
Corene spoke up, voice even. "Information could save lives. If we know where threats form, we can prepare. Our improvements rely on anticipating attacks."
Meraine nodded. "Chigan maintains trained spotters along old watchtowers. We see patterns in the land, strange glows after dusk, subtle tremors. We're prepared to send quick messengers if you support our defenses by teaching us these runes."
Orien stepped forward. "Meraine, these runes aren't a secret for power's sake, they're a necessity. I'll show you how to layer simple glyphs onto chain links or gate supports. But you must understand: it's delicate work. Your artisans need steady hands and some measure of magical awareness."
The envoy studied him a moment. "You are the mage I've heard of, then. Your name reached our scouts. Orien Majere, correct?"
"It is."
Meraine dipped her head. "I feared we'd find only proud nobles unwilling to share. Instead, I see a castle willing to listen. Chigan can send a few of our smiths and scribes to learn directly from you. In return, we'll pass along reports. If a rift stirs near Castle Angell or if rumors hint that demons mass in old ruins, you'll know in advance."
Biren crossed his arms. "This arrangement benefits both sides. It might keep both Havens standing longer." He looked to Orien, inviting him to confirm.
Orien faced Meraine. "I will teach your people what I can. We must arrange a proper session. Give me a day to prepare materials and stable paint."
Meraine's stern face softened slightly. "Agreed. Our smiths and a scribe travel with me, waiting in a small camp outside your outer fields. I will call them in tomorrow. Will that suffice?"
"That's fair," Orien said.
Alden stepped closer. "If we grant them entry and show them our wards, how do we know they won't keep it all to themselves and vanish?"
Meraine's lip curled, a hint of offense, but she answered evenly. "Because if we vanish, we gain only a fraction of your knowledge. If we maintain a steady alliance, we gain long-term stability. We both know demons care nothing for border lines between Houses. Without cooperation, we all fail."
A quiet settled over the courtyard. Guards shifted in their boots, one or two clearing throats. Corene's gaze shifted from Meraine to Orien and back. Finally, Corene said, "We place trust in you. Show us your sincerity by keeping your word. Send those warnings promptly."
Meraine struck her staff lightly against the ground. "You have my word. We'll bring messages on the wind if needed, riding hard to deliver news. We've scouts who barely rest, watching every horizon."
Orien pulled a small scrap of parchment from inside his cloak. He took a piece of charcoal from a pouch and sketched a simple symbol—a basic warding rune, easy to replicate. He held it out to Meraine.
She stepped close and examined it. Her brow creased. "This character… it channels resistance through layered paint?"
"Yes," Orien said. "It's the foundation. With this, your chains won't snap as easily under sudden force. But understand, it requires someone who can spark a bit of mana into it—someone like me, or anyone else gifted. Without that spark, it's just paint."
Meraine tucked the parchment into her sleeve. "Chigan's scribes will learn. We have a few with minor talents. If we stumble, we'll ask for guidance."
The scribe behind Biren sighed softly with relief. Eldric, lingering near the stable entrance, tried to appear busy but watched every word with bright interest. Orien noticed the squire's quiet delight at the idea of forging ties. Let him learn that alliances formed through reason, not just swords.
Biren stepped forward, offering his hand. Meraine gripped it firmly. "You will remain within these walls tonight, envoy. We have little luxury to spare, but a dry bed and a meal, at least."
"Grateful," Meraine said, releasing his hand. "I've ridden long. A meal, even humble, sounds welcome."
Corene gestured to a retainer. "Find her a place. Arrange simple rations. Let her rest and wash the dust from her face."
As the envoy followed the retainer across the courtyard, Alden approached Orien. "You handle politics as easily as you handle runes."
Orien flexed his fingers. "Just being honest. We need each other. I've seen what happens when Houses stand alone."
Alden's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, merely nodding thoughtfully.
Corene stood beside them, arms folded. "I've never known Chigan to extend a hand this openly. You've stirred something, Majere."
Orien glanced around. He saw the scribe quietly writing notes about the agreement, Eldric glancing at them with a half-smile. The guards who had once eyed him suspiciously now looked on with mild respect. The orchard scrap they found earlier would likely be put to use soon, now that there might be new ideas flowing in.
He brushed dust from his cloak, careful not to disturb the runes inside his mind. "We build step by step," he said simply. "A shared rune, a shared warning. Over time, it builds into something stronger."
Corene tapped her gauntlet against her hip. "I'll send word to the storeroom team. If Chigan's craftsmen arrive tomorrow, they can see the chain links and wards we've made. Let them learn with their own eyes."
Biren, who lingered near a lantern, called back, "We should write a formal accord. Nothing grand, just a note confirming what we agreed upon. The envoy might appreciate that."
"Do it," Corene said. She looked at Orien. "I trust you can show them how to channel mana into their painted runes?"
Orien nodded. "Yes. I'll guide them through the motions. The spark is subtle, but if they have even a scrap of talent, they'll feel it catch."
Alden grunted, satisfied. "Then we have a plan. For once, we're not simply waiting for the next crisis. We're acting."
They parted ways. Biren hurried to gather parchment and a seal. Alden took position by the gate, ensuring no threats approached. Corene moved to organize tomorrow's demonstration. Eldric slipped closer to Orien, voice quiet. "I never thought we'd see envoys bargaining for knowledge like that. Feels different."
Orien looked down at the squire. "Different, yes. Better, I hope. The world out there grows harsher every day. To stand, we must share what we can."
Eldric considered that, then smiled. "If I can help tomorrow, let me know. I'd like to learn these runes too. Maybe I can help shape them someday."
Orien reached out and lightly tapped Eldric's shoulder. "Your willingness means more than you know. Stay close, observe. Ask questions. Knowledge thrives when passed on."
A soft breeze carried scents of hay and old stone. The courtyard's tension had shifted into something else—an anticipation of cooperation. No cheering crowds, no grand declarations, just quiet, purposeful work. It suited Orien fine.
He stood a moment longer, watching the gate where Meraine had entered. She had offered a link to House Chigan's eyes and ears. He would exchange his knowledge for their warnings. If more Houses followed suit, they might weave a network of alliances strong enough to hold against the horrors he once witnessed.
He turned and followed Eldric, heading toward a corner where the storeroom corridor waited. Tomorrow, new hands would learn to paint runes and spark wards to life. Tomorrow, they would take another step away from disaster.