Chapter 191: THE LETTER FROM THE SOUTH
Three days after the battle at Torshavn, a black, unmarked carriage entered the gates of Iron Hearth Castle.
Its escort consisted of only two men—knights clad in plain gray uniforms with no identifying insignia, their faces concealed by unadorned helms. They did not speak. They offered no answers to the gatekeepers’ inquiries. They merely handed a black wooden box to Grimm, who was waiting in the courtyard, before turning the carriage around and vanishing before the sun had fully risen.
Grimm stared at the box for a long time. His aged, wrinkled hands felt its weight—not just a physical burden, but a weight of a different kind. He had lived long enough to recognize the scent of trouble from a mile away. And this box reeked of it.
He carried it to Lucian’s study without opening it.
Lucian Sudrath sat behind his desk when Grimm entered. Pale morning light filtered through the large window behind him, casting a sharp yet weary silhouette of the Duke. Spread across the table was a map of Northreach, littered with red markings along the southern border.
"Your Grace," Grimm said softly. "This was just delivered. The couriers gave no names; they simply handed this over and departed."
Lucian nodded. He took the box and pried open the lid.
Inside, resting on a bed of black velvet, lay a thick, neatly rolled parchment. The red wax seal bearing the Sun of Aethelgard—the personal stamp of King Edward IV—remained intact.
Lucian broke the seal. The sound of the cracking wax was deafening in the silent room.
He read the letter. His eyes moved slowly from line to line. His expression didn’t change—remaining calm, remaining cold. But his fingers tightened slightly on the parchment, causing the edges of the paper to crinkle.
Grimm waited. He didn’t ask questions. He simply stood there, hands clasped behind his back, eyes fixed forward.
Lucian finished reading. He placed the letter on the desk and leaned back into his chair, staring up at the ceiling.
"Call Aurelia," he said. His voice was flat.
Grimm bowed and withdrew.
A few minutes later, the door opened again. Aurelia entered in a deep blue morning gown, her silvering hair tied in a neat bun. She read her husband’s face, then glanced at the letter on the desk. Without a word, she walked over and stood beside Lucian.
Lucian handed her the parchment.
Aurelia read it. Her eyes moved faster than Lucian’s—she had always been the quicker reader. When she finished, she set the letter back on the desk and rested her hand on her husband’s shoulder.
"How long?" she asked.
Lucian looked out the window. "Three months."
Aurelia didn’t answer immediately. Her hand remained on his shoulder, her thumb gently stroking the fabric of his cloak. "It is enough time," she said finally. "We have built all of this from nothing in less time than that."
Lucian turned to look at his wife. "This is different. This isn’t about building. This is about defending."
"And?" Aurelia met his gaze, her eyes sharp yet warm. "Do you think we cannot?"
Lucian didn’t reply. But the corner of his lip twitched upward—almost imperceptibly, but Aurelia saw it. It was her husband’s rarest smile. The smile of a man reminded that he had faced worse and emerged victorious.
"I will call Riven and Roland," Lucian said. "But not now. Let me think first."
Aurelia nodded. She kissed the crown of his head—a simple yet profound gesture—and walked out, leaving Lucian alone with the declaration of war on his desk.
In another wing of the castle, in his tidy study, Roland was reading intelligence reports from the south when there was a knock at the door.
"Enter."
Rianor stepped inside. His face, as usual, was stoic and difficult to read. But Roland knew his brother well enough to know Rianor wouldn’t come to his room without a reason.
"What is it?" Roland asked, setting the report down.
"Father received a declaration of war," Rianor said bluntly. "Grimm told me."
Roland nodded slowly. He wasn’t surprised. After the reports from Torshavn—the released monster, the appearance of Highgarden—he had expected this. "The details?"
"Unknown. But my guess: an official declaration. Three months, just as Romeni stated."
Roland leaned back. "Has Father summoned us?"
"Not yet. But he will soon." Rianor sat in the chair across from Roland’s desk. "I’m not here for that, though. I’m here because I need your intelligence data."
"For what?"
"The Academy." Rianor locked eyes with his brother. "The curriculum is nearly finished. But I need teachers. Not just ordinary ones—people who can teach science, mathematics, and physics. Northreach doesn’t have many of those. I need you to look outside."
Roland raised an eyebrow. "You’re asking me to scout for teachers in the middle of war preparations?"
"Precisely because of the war." Rianor leaned forward. "If we lose, there is no more Northreach. But if we win—and we will win—we need a generation that is ready. This war isn’t the end, Roland. It’s the beginning of something much larger."
Roland stared at his brother for a long time. Then he offered a thin smile—the smile of a diplomat who appreciated the long game. "You’re always thinking ten steps ahead."
"That is my job."
"Fine. I’ll see what I can do. But don’t expect results quickly. My network is preoccupied with tracking the Solari."
Rianor nodded and stood. "That’s all. Thank you."
He walked toward the door but paused before leaving. "Roland."
"Yes?"
"Father will need us. All of us. Don’t try to handle this alone."
Roland chuckled softly. "Strange words coming from you."
Rianor didn’t respond. He simply opened the door and left.
Thousands of kilometers to the south, at the border of the Emerald Union, a black SUV sped down a dusty road flanked by lush greenery. The air here was different—warmer, more humid, carrying the scent of damp earth and tropical flowers unknown to Northreach.
In the front seat, Rumina was busy checking documents in her lap. In the back, Raveena and Caelus sat side by side. The window next to Raveena was cracked open, allowing the warm breeze to play with her black hair.
Raveena pulled a small notebook from her pocket—a journal she had recently begun carrying everywhere—and started writing. Air temperature... twenty-four degrees. Humidity... high. Vegetation... tropical. If Brother Rianor were here, he’d be calculating the energy efficiency of engines in this climate.
Caelus turned, noticing the notebook. "Do you always carry that?"
Raveena smiled faintly, not looking away from the window. "Lately."
"May I see?"
Raveena hesitated for a moment before handing it over. Caelus opened it slowly. The pages were filled with notes—mathematical formulas, sketches of plants, weather observations, and magic diagrams. Everything was written in neat, organized handwriting.
"You record everything," Caelus murmured in awe.
"A habit," Raveena replied. "Brother Rianor taught me. He says the human brain can’t store all data. It’s better to write it down."
Caelus returned the book. His hand accidentally brushed Raveena’s fingers. Both were silent for a moment. Raveena pulled her hand back slowly, her cheeks flushing slightly. Caelus looked out the window, pretending to be fascinated by the scenery.
From the rearview mirror, Rumina saw it all.
Good grief, she grumbled internally. Young people these days. Once they’re married, they’ll just argue about money anyway. I’m the one getting a headache managing the family finances, while you two play at romance.
She let out a long sigh and returned to her documents. Numbers were much easier to handle than watching her younger sister grow up.
The car stopped at a small checkpoint. A customs official in a blue uniform approached, his expression suspicious at the sight of a horseless vehicle. Rumina stepped out, carrying the letter of authority from Duke Lucian.
"What kind of vehicle is this?" the official asked, his eyes scanning the black SUV from front to back.
"Northreach technology," Rumina answered succinctly. "No magic. Safe."
The official read the letter thoroughly. His eyebrows shot up when he saw the crest of the Sudrath Wolf. He looked at Rumina, then back at the car. Finally, he nodded and returned the letter.
"Proceed, Milady. Welcome to the Emerald Union."
Rumina got back into the car. Ramirez started the engine, and they drove through the gate.
"It’s so different from Northreach," Caelus whispered, staring out the window. Tropical trees, red earth, and humid air—it was all foreign to eyes accustomed to snow and stone.
"Because Brother Rianor isn’t here," Raveena answered with a grin.
The car drove on. In the distance, the silhouette of the city of Meridoss began to appear—red brick buildings, sparkling canals under the sun, and stone bridges arching gracefully. The fourth-largest city in the Emerald Union, a trade hub led by Madam Vernazza.
Rumina looked ahead. One more step, she thought. One more step and we secure a new trade route.
The crystal pager in her pocket chimed. She took it out and read a short message from Silas:
"Torshavn attacked by monster. Situation resolved. Leofric injured. Report once arrived."
Rumina read it twice. Her face hardened for a split second—A monster? In Torshavn?—but she quickly masked her expression. She glanced back. Raveena was still busy with her notebook, oblivious to the news.
Good, Rumina thought. Let her stay worry-free for now.
She tucked the pager away and focused on the path ahead. Meridoss was drawing closer.
Back in Iron Hearth, the sun was dipping toward the west.
Lucian was still in his study. The declaration of war remained on the desk, but it was now accompanied by the map of Northreach, newly filled with markings—defense lines, evacuation points, and logistics routes.
The door opened softly. Aurelia entered, carrying a tray with warm tea and a plate of dry biscuits. She set it on the desk and sat in the chair beside her husband.
"You haven’t eaten since morning," she said.
Lucian looked at the tray, then at his wife. "You always know."
"It is my duty." Aurelia smiled. "Drink. Before it gets cold."
Lucian picked up the teacup and took a slow sip. The warmth spread through his chest, dispelling the chill that had settled there since morning.
"We will be fine," Aurelia said softly. "You know that, right?"
Lucian didn’t answer. But his free hand reached for his wife’s, gripping it tightly.
Outside, the snow began to fall again. But inside the room, it was warm.
At the Emerald Union border, the black SUV finally entered the gates of Meridoss. Canals shimmered in the late afternoon sun, small boats shuttled goods to and fro, and merchants from various nations walked the red-brick sidewalks.
Rumina took in the sight. A city of commerce, she thought. A place where money speaks louder than swords.
She offered a thin smile. This was her battlefield. And she was ready for war.
The car headed for the city center toward the high-end inn she had reserved. In the back, Raveena and Caelus still sat together, occasionally stealing glances and quickly looking away.
The journey was still long. But for today, they had arrived.
Back at Iron Hearth, Lucian set down his teacup. He stared at the declaration of war on the desk—the broken red wax seal with the Sun crest.
Three months, he thought. We will be ready.
He folded the letter and tucked it into his desk drawer. Then he turned off the light and walked out, hand in hand with his wife.
Tomorrow was a new day. And there was still much to be done.