The atmosphere in the great council chamber was tense. Golden banners hung from the high stone walls, each bearing the imperial emblem—a lion-bodied griffin with wings outstretched in flight. The dim light of countless crystal chandeliers sparkled above, casting uneasy shadows across the faces of those seated around the long oak table.
The council participants sat in rigid silence, their gazes fixed on the man at the head of the table.
Emperor Rahul, who had ruled the Magnolia Empire peacefully throughout his reign, leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him. Though his expression was calm, the weight of the empire was evident in the lines etched around his eyes. He scanned the room, his sharp gaze lingering on each council member before he spoke, his voice steady yet commanding.
"We are gathered here today to discuss two matters of utmost importance," he began. "First, the reports of Mongols seen roaming the forest frontiers near our southern border. Second, the earthquake in Eldara. General Marcellus, you may proceed."
The old general rose, his movements precise and deliberate. His armor gleamed as though polished daily, reflecting his disciplined nature. He unfolded a map and spread it across the table, his gloved hands tracing the dense green forests on the southern edge of the empire.
"Our scouts have reported significant movement in these areas," he said, his tone measured. "Entire families of tribes—soldiers, livestock, and supplies—are advancing slowly through the forests. Their numbers are considerable, but their intentions remain unclear. Should they attempt to cross into our territory, they will have no choice but to use the open plains at the Kaldar Gate."
A ripple of unease spread through the chamber, murmurs breaking out among the nobles. Duke Rihan rose abruptly, his face flushed with anger.
"Unclear intentions?" he exclaimed, his voice rising above the whispers. "You mean to tell me that you, the supreme commander of this empire, have no idea what they want? My lands lie directly before the Kaldar Gate. Do you expect me to sit idly by while savages invade my borders?"
General Marcellus remained unshaken, his expression calm despite the tension in the room. There was, however, a flicker of irritation in his eyes.
"Patience, Duke Rihan," he replied evenly. "Sending troops prematurely could provoke hostility. If this is a migration rather than an invasion, diplomacy might prevent unnecessary bloodshed."
"Diplomacy?" Duchess Rihan interjected, her jeweled fingers drumming against the table. "With the Mongols? They are no better than wild wolves. If they bring a large army, they will surely bring war. Strike first, General, before they have the chance to catch us unprepared."
The tension thickened, like storm clouds gathering on the horizon. Advisor Lucien, seated to Emperor Rahul's right, leaned forward, his calm voice cutting through the rising clamor.
"Not all Mongols seek war," he said. "It is possible they are fleeing a greater threat—something within the southern forests that we have yet to understand. If we attack without first determining their motives, we risk creating enemies where there may have been none."
Duke Rihan slammed his fist on the table, the sound echoing sharply throughout the chamber.
"And if we wait too long, what then?" he demanded, his voice thick with frustration. "Do you expect me to welcome them with open arms while they overrun my lands?"
"Enough."
Emperor Rahul's voice, though quiet, carried a weight that instantly silenced the room. Rising from his seat, he commanded the attention of all present.
"We will send envoys to ascertain their intentions," he declared. "If they seek refuge, we may offer them barren lands far from our borders while we verify their motives. General Marcellus, prepare your forces to defend the Kaldar Gate should diplomacy fail. This council will not panic or act rashly."
The nobles exchanged nervous glances, but none dared challenge the emperor's authority.
When the topic shifted to the earthquakes in the mountains of Eldara to the north, the atmosphere in the room changed. It was no longer the tense, blood-soaked talk of war, but something far more mysterious.
Duke Velmar rose slowly from his seat, his hands trembling as they gripped the edge of the oak table. His voice, when he spoke, was barely a whisper.
"Your Majesty," he began, "I bring disturbing news from the mountains of Eldara. Just this morning, another powerful earthquake shook the region near the Holy Temple of Elarion. The local villagers living at the foot of the mountain claim to have heard strange sounds—whispers that seem to come from the Temple itself. They are both terrified and reminded of something…" He hesitated, his eyes darting nervously around the room. "The earthquake from five years ago. It's the same as before."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Even the most skeptical of the nobles had grown quiet, their faces unreadable.
"Whispers?" Duke Rihan sneered. "These are just the ramblings of frightened peasants. Earthquakes are a natural occurrence every few years."
Duke Rihan's dismissive words prompted a few nods of agreement, and all eyes turned toward Emperor Rahul. The nobles seemed to silently question why the Emperor considered this matter as significant as the Mongol threat discussed earlier.
The priests of the Holy Temple of Elarion were known for their quiet, secluded lives, and their isolation from the world. As a result, they were rarely mentioned in council meetings, for they had never caused any trouble that might threaten the stability of the Empire. Their peaceful relationship with the people of the north had ensured that their name seldom arose, except occasionally during discussions about the snowy mountains of Eldara.
"Is there any word from Pope Alderon?" the Emperor asked.
Duke Velmar shook his head. "No, Your Majesty. The Holy Temple remains calm, despite being the area most affected by the quake. The priests there have not shown any signs of distress. In contrast, the villagers are in a panic, claiming that this earthquake felt far stronger than the one five years ago."
Emperor Rahul paused for a moment, considering the information.
"The Holy Temple of Elarion has always been isolated. Only a few priests leave to spread the faith and do good works in the world. They are known for their unique personalities, but they have always lived in peace. There has never been anything deviant about them."
General Marcellus spoke up. "If the priests remain calm and make no significant moves, then it is likely that nothing unusual has occurred. This earthquake may simply be a natural disaster."
"Indeed," Duke Rihan agreed, nodding firmly. Advisor Lucien and the other council members murmured in agreement as well.
Marquis Gwendolyn, who had been silently listening, sighed deeply. He had wanted to contribute to the discussion, but for some reason, his mood was dark, and he felt too weary to speak. All he wanted was to return home and relax with his wife in their comfortable abode.
The council meeting eventually drew to a close. Emperor Rahul delivered a few closing words, and the nobles offered their most respectful farewells as he departed first. One by one, the others followed, leaving the room in an orderly manner.
When it was Marquis Gwendolyn's turn, he suddenly noticed one of his family's knights running down the palace corridor, seemingly searching for someone. The knight's face lit up with relief when he spotted the Marquis at the doorway of the meeting room. He rushed over, panting heavily.
Marquis Gwendolyn immediately felt a cold sweat trickle down his back.
"Your Lordship, there is an urgent letter from Chronos Academy."
The calm expression on Marquis Gwendolyn's face immediately darkened. Without another word, he pivoted, abandoning his plans to head home, and instead made his way toward the Emperor's chambers.
Duke Emmeline, who had been trailing behind, overheard a part of the exchange. He gave no indication of concern, merely continuing on his path with an indifferent air.
***
Tina, after hastily escorting the elderly physician to his clinic as quickly as she could, finally returned to her lady's dormitory room. She couldn't leave her alone in such a fragile state for too long!
As usual, she knocked gently on the door before entering, mindful of her lady's preference for privacy and the fact that she detested anyone entering her room unannounced. If there was no answer, it meant she allowed her to enter. But if she directly refused, it meant she was in a bad mood and wanted to be left alone.
No response came from behind the door after Tina knocked once.
Having served her lady for several years, Tina had become adept at reading the situation. She stepped inside quietly, mindful of the noise. The lady she served disliked loud sounds, and given her current condition, Tina didn't want to disturb her any more than necessary. The thought of her lady's state alone nearly brought Tina to tears, but she managed to hold them back this time.
Upon entering, she found her asleep in her bed, lying stiffly as though trying to remain still during sleep. The large pillows on either side of her bandaged head made Tina's heart ache even more.
She sighed, turning her gaze away and staring out the dormitory window, which was tightly shut.
"I hope the Marquis arrives soon…" she murmured, her voice soft and pleading, carried away by the wind.
Tina still vividly remembered how she had trembled after escorting her unconscious, blood-soaked lady to the academy clinic. Immediately afterward, she had written a letter to the Gwendolyn estate, her hands stained with blood, leaving small red smudges on the otherwise white paper—marks she hadn't noticed in her panic.
Tina stood there for a moment, her gaze fixed on the still form of her, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only sign that she was alive. The room felt suffocating, heavy with unspoken worry and the silence that lingered after the chaos of the past few hours.
She had never seen her like this before—so fragile, so vulnerable. The zest for life that usually radiated from the lady she served, the crimson eyes that usually shone with clarity, even though she often tried to conceal them, was now replaced by an almost frightening silence.
Tina's heart ached as she thought of the accident, the fall from the horse that had nearly taken her lady's life. She had been so certain, in those terrifying moments, that her lady wouldn't survive. The blood, the fear, the uncertainty—it had all been too much.
But somehow, her lady had clung to life.
Tina didn't have faith, but if what happened to the lady she served was the result of God's help, especially since the physician was confused, then Tina would gladly begin praying diligently for Lady Eleanor's recovery from that moment on.