Thorne Point Of View.

I was bent over the battle map, tracing the valleys and passes with my finger, the air thick with the scent of sweat and torch smoke. Around me, the generals moved their markers, shouting orders, but my mind was elsewhere, locked on strategy, on the countless ways this war could end in fire or blood.

Then the door slammed open.

A scout stumbled in, chest heaving, armor clanking. He held out a scroll, and the room fell silent before he even spoke.

“Message… from ...