The Thallerion forces had withdrawn, a decision Matheros found perfectly logical, given King Xerxez of Ossibuz's decree. To wage war while still steeped in the throes of grief was folly, a path that would surely dull a warrior's blade. A confrontation with the Thallerions this very month would only cripple Xerxez's fighting spirit.
"Xerxez," Matheros urged, their voices echoing within the Thallerion throne room, where Xerxez sat upon his regal seat. "Let us not plunge headlong into conflict. Reflect on this: it bodes ill for a warrior still cloaked in sorrow to face a new war."
"Six months," Xerxez sighed deeply, the words heavy with resignation. "Six months hence, Pyramus descends upon Thallerion." His voice, now a resonant boom, carried an ominous premonition of a perilous trap laid by Ossibuz.
"If the Corvus entity truly observes us, knowing this precise date," Matheros stated, "then our preparation must be absolute."
