Beyond the kingdom of Riverdale, the world stirred with unease and disbelief.
The first to receive the news was the Falcon Empire itself.
Couriers on exhausted horses galloped through the wide stone gates of the imperial capital. They carried scrolls sealed with the marks of battlefield commanders, though many of those commanders were already dead.
The messengers' faces were pale, their voices hoarse from screaming the same unbelievable words again and again along the roads.
When the scrolls were brought to the golden hall of the imperial palace, the air grew heavy. The Emperor of Falcon sat on his throne, high above all others, draped in crimson robes that glittered with golden threads.
His sharp eyes moved across the lines of the message once, then twice, and then a third time.
"The Duke is dead," the scroll said.
