The Knots of Stone had adjourned. One by one, their silhouettes faded into the white-glow morning, winding down the polished steps of the sanctum, their voices soft with the weight of diplomacy and expectation. Across the pristine courtyard, the gates of Brimholde glistened in harmony with the gilded sky, where crowds had already begun to gather — expectant, anxious, uncertain.
But not all the players of Valmora's game had taken their leave. Behind the meeting hall, nestled in the shadow of a skybridge laced with mana-glass, a figure stood waiting. Her frame was draped in a high-collared overcloak, gloved hands tucked neatly behind her back. She might have passed for a statue if not for the slight tilt of her head, listening. Commander Varen spotted her first. He slowed as he exited, his gaze narrowing before curving into a knowing grin. "Well now," he called, voice dry as bark, "I thought I felt a storm on the breeze."
General Maevaris Tel'Vorr — Warden General of the Harmonium, first of blades and whispers — turned with a smirk. "You always were the poetic type," she said, her voice a smooth alloy of amusement and something sharper. "I knew it was you walking by. I could practically smell the indecision." Varen chuckled, stepping closer. "You never show up without a reason. What's today's excuse?" "Can't I visit a dear colleague?" she offered innocently. "I thought perhaps a stroll through the Spiral Garden might soothe the tension in my old bones." He raised an eyebrow. "You don't have bones. You have obsidian and wire." She gave a low laugh. "Still more flexible than yours, Commander." They set off through the garden path, lined with silver-laced trees and moonflowers that reacted subtly to the presence of passing mana. Around them, mage-scholars, attendants, and sigil-bearing nobles drifted through the morning peace, whispering in cloaks of silk and concern.
"You're not here to exchange pleasantries," Varen said. "You never have been. Out with it." Maevaris took her time, brushing a gloved hand over a luminous orchid as they passed. "I simply think… harmony among departments is crucial. All gears must turn together, you know. That's how the Sanctified Clock keeps ticking." "You're not fooling anyone," he muttered. "You're too cunning to rely on words from the throne, and too proud to follow anyone else's rhythm." "Spiteful," she agreed sweetly. "If only they could hear me now — their treasured Warden-General speaking such blasphemy." His expression tightened. "You know I can't disclose anything from the council. The moment any word leaks—"
"—there'll be hell to pay, yes, yes," she interrupted, waving him off with a lazy hand. "Tell me, Varen... when did they take your pride from you and call it duty?" He halted mid-step. "I beg your pardon?" "You should be ashamed," she said, glancing sideways. "To stand there and pretend the people who truly run this kingdom aren't worth informing. You've been in the clouds so long, you've forgotten where the kingdom breathes." The commander looked around — civilians within earshot. He waited a beat, letting them pass, then resumed walking, this time slower. "They aren't ready," he said. "Not for this. Not yet." "Then make them ready," she replied, voice steely beneath the silk. "Or I'll start whispering to those who are."
He exhaled through his nose. "Fine. You'll get nothing but the truth — the royals didn't budge. Not an inch. The plan failed. Isolde's doubling down, and Eldric won't say no to her in public." Maevaris paused. A faint smirk returned. "Then maybe the crown needs reminding who holds the reins of power in Valmora." Varen stiffened. "Careful. Schemes like yours tend to burn those who fly too close." "Oh, Commander," she said, eyes glinting. "It's not me who should be afraid of fire." A new voice cut the tension like frost. "Well, if it isn't the mighty Warden-General and her ever-loyal plaything." Both turned. Valisheen, Court Mage of the Silver Division, descended the garden's edge with an amused gleam in his pale green eyes. His cloak shimmered faintly with imbued mana, and as always, his tone carried the weight of old secrets and dangerous indulgences.
"I was beginning to think your conversations were too private for ears like mine," he said. "But alas, the scent of treason carries far and wide." Varen sneered. "State your business and crawl back to whatever tower birthed your self-importance." Valisheen smiled wide. "Don't bite, Commander. I'm only here to admire the unity of our leaders. What an example you set: sword and shield, teeth bared, back to back. A tale for the bards." Maevaris rolled her eyes. "Still two dogs gnashing over the same bone. If one of you doesn't kill the other soon, I might just retire out of boredom." Valisheen tilted his head. "As if you could endure civilian life. Beasts don't settle among sheep. They devour them." Her expression soured. "You're wasting my patience." With a theatrical flourish, Valisheen produced a sealed letter, its crest marked with red lacquer.
"Relax. I brought a gift. Seems our… friends across the cliffs sent word. They say the winds of war are blowing south again." Maevaris snatched the letter before he could finish. She read quickly — her expression unreadable — until, reaching the end, her smile returned, darker this time. She handed the letter to Varen. "It seems," she said softly, "that our golden peace is nearing its twilight." Varen read, eyes widening. "This… this can't be real. Not her. Not again." "Oh, but it is," Valisheen purred. "Your age of boredom is over, General. Perhaps you'll get your glory hour after all — before someone finally takes your head."
Maevaris ignored the barb, eyes distant, calculating. "Of course I will. I never had a doubt." She looked up with a savage glint. "And if you were trying to insult my age just now, Valisheen, I hope you know I collect tongues. Unlike roaches, mine don't grow back." The two turned to leave, whispers already beginning to follow in their wake. Varen stood rooted, the letter crumpling faintly in his fist. His voice barely a whisper, "The first witch… to reappear since the Red Purge."