A new dawn rose, and Wei Junli rose with it, yawning as he sat up in his bed. With a shake of his head, he tried to clear the grogginess from his eyes as he clambered out of bed, shrugging his nightclothes off as he reached for clothes that his servants had laid out the night before. After getting dressed, he stepped out of his bedroom as a servant entered, bowing before setting his morning meal on a small table, as well as a stack of reports from his generals and spies. Sitting down at the table, Junli began to tuck in to a breakfast of pork buns and smoked duck while reading over reports.

Once he was finished with his meal and halfway through his reports, the same servant came back in to take the meal tray away. As the woman left, a goateed man in blue robes walked in, smiling. To any in the imperial palace, he was recognizable as Zhu Xing: the general in charge of the Emperor's elite vanguard and the Emperor's right-hand man.

"Already beginning the day's work during your morning meal, Your Majesty? Truly praiseworthy of you."

At this, Junli only scoffed, smiling at the man. "Enough with that, Xing. We've been friends and companions since we were children. The mockery routine stopped working when I was a teenager."

"Ah, true enough," Zhu Xing chuckled, sitting down across from Junli at his table. "Any reports of note?"

"None so far," Junli murmured as he took a sip of tea before returning to his paperwork. "Seems as if the situation's remained the same. We still lack naval power, despite pouring considerable resources into rebuilding the navy. Ships are coming out of the yards and sailors are being trained, but they will require time. Time we may not have." He sighed, leaning back into his chair as he rubbed his forehead. "Anywhere we land on the mainland will be heavily against us, and Rokon is already heavily competing against us in trade. I'll need to nip that in the bud first."

"And that will require time to contact mercenaries. It seems you're free for the day, my liege." Xing grinned, rising from his chair. "How about we abscond to the training fields? Unless sitting behind a desk reading reports all day has rendered you slow?"

"Very well," Junli grinned back. "I'm still ahead by five bouts. Let's see if you can even that up today."

___

Later that morning, Junli sat alone in an outdoor bath, relaxing his sore muscles after a dozen bouts of sparring. He glanced around the palace gardens, taking the view in for relaxation. He blinked, and opened his eyes to see a shadow with white eyes simply staring at him.

This was...a Primordial? Junli paused, not knowing what to think. The old legends held that seeing a Primordial was a precursor to dangerous adventure. But Junli had already been through a war. Was this a sign, then? That he was fated to fight against Baelwill? He closed his eyes, shaking his head. That had been his goal ever since he'd turned fifteen. He didn't need some old superstition goading him on. When he opened his eyes again, the Primordial had disappeared. Junli sighed, rising from the bath as he made to dry himself off.

___

During the afternoon, Junli sat in his throne room as he received petitioners from across Shen and beyond. The line into the throne room began to die down as the afternoon went on, and Junli found himself facing a robed man who bowed before him.

"To the esteemed Emperor of Shen, I bring a missive from our Supreme Empress of Ju Ren Kyo, addressed for your eyes only."

Junli raised an eyebrow. The Supreme Empress had a direct message for him? Perhaps she was making the first move against him, then. One of the worst possible outcomes he'd been expecting. But one he'd prepared for. Nonetheless, he opened the letter, curious as to what the child ruler, or more likely her ministers, wished to say to him.

The letter read:

To Junli of the house of Wei, Emperor of Shen,

Your deeds in the past years have not escaped Our attention. Neither have your diminishing tributes to Our court. However, We cannot deny your abilities as both a general and warrior. A brutish, direct confrontation will serve no one's interests.

Instead, We propose a compromise. No doubt you are familiar with the ancient prophecy:

"When the Beasts of a nation scorned fall
those children of ability commanding
will lead the World to true peace
lest the wounded God return to rule forever"

Despite Our best attempts to search for any alternative, you are the only candidate in this land that would fit the prophecy, having the skills to utterly destroy your peer in Jushibaki. And so, We propose that you become Ju Ren Kyo's representative in a new alliance among the nations of the world.

Be warned that should you refuse, We will understand your actions as treasonous and vainglorious plotting against Our imperial throne, and your fellow emperors will be informed accordingly.

Well...that was unexpected. Junli was no fool: the Supreme Empress was very clearly on to him. But she'd backed him into a corner. The empires surrounding Shen were all in political opposition to him, and Rokon alone would be very, very eager to plunder their rival. To say nothing of Jushibaki, who were no doubt eager to avenge their late emperor. Despite how much he'd prepared, Shen would be crushed in open warfare against every nation bordering it at once. He had no choice but to acquiesce to the Supreme Empress's demand.

Junli rose, throwing the letter back at the messenger.

"Inform the Supreme Empress that her loyal servant shall obey her demands." He murmured, dismissing the man before turning to leave the throne room, his face inscrutable. He had much to think about.

Thunder rolled off the high cliffs of the Margrail Barrier, heavy rains splattering against the windows of Kerenza’s bedroom. Occasionally, the panes rattled as a harsh wind swept through the estate, before the howls were overcome by the roar of lightning. And yet, despite the violent weather, the silver-haired duchess woke up not to the storm, but to the sounds of clashing steel and war chants. On her grounds, there were already knights sparring against each other, sharpening their skills in preparation for the day the knights of Baelwill will march out of their gates.

Yes, this truly was the one sound she liked to wake up to the most.

Opening her eyes, Kerenza pulled her bedsheets to the side, rang the bell, and allowed her morning ritual to commence. Three minutes after the bell had rang, a squad of maids stepped into the room, bowing once to the duchess before they began to dress her up. The corset, the dress, the sash, everything that she wore for ‘everyday’ circumstances was piled on top of her, until the weight of cloth almost felt like the weight of chainmail. Finally, a white cloak, embroidered with blue satin, was draped onto one of her chairs, and breakfast was presented.

It was an exhausting frenzy, and something that wasn’t wholly necessary, but as the Duchess of Tarconis, it was her duty to present only the best side of herself, after all. Enjoying the weather and the sight of her men down below, Kerenza chewed on a morsel of lamb meat, before enjoying the aroma of freshly brewed tea.

A moment later, something black seeped into the room.

Mud-like ichor rose from the far end of her bedroom, and before she even laid her teacup down, Kerenza was moving. Spectral blades flew out of her body, striking mere milimeters away from the bulbous flesh of that anomaly. Eyes alit with moonfire, she said, “Cease and de-”

But it was already gone.

Her brows furrowed, before she sat down once more. Breakfast was getting cold, after all, and answers could be sought at a later time.

---

“A Primordial?” Kerenza repeated, perplexed.

“Yup. A Primordial that had some disgusting timing,” Aewill replied, before sliding over a letter. “You know how Primordials are supposed to be harbringers of a violent, adventurous fate?”

“No,” she replied, “I don’t believe in such legends…and the seal’s broken.”

“Duchess Kerenza Edelwane, with all due respect, maybe it’d be a good idea to expand your knowledge to more…historical and cultural aspects? I mean, Primordials are pretty well known!”

“Knight Aewill Wolfblood, two points. Superstitions are neither historical nor cultural. And the seal’s broken. Why?”

“A broken seal means that the letter has been read already…” The knight casually slid a letter opener under the table, green eyes still affixed onto Kerenza’s.

The duchess sighed. “Your curiousity is awful, really. One day it’ll lead you to snoop about in the chambers of a maiden, and after that...I’d imagine you’d only have brothers from that day forth. But, seeing how you’ve read it, summarize.”

“Yes ma’am!” Aewill cleared his throat, before straightening his back and saying, “Signed by the majority of the Council of Ten, with one of the exclusions being that cow Duke Pinzomel, the letter speaks of the Prophecy, and how they believe that you may be one of the ‘children’ who are mentioned in it, no doubt due to your position and your achievements in re-establishing Tarconis’s knight order. Therefore, they’d like you to be part of an organization of like-minded individuals, leading armies in collaboration to take down Baelwill.”

“Ok. I’ll note that down,” Kerenza said, “Knight Vaneil’s scouting party arrived last night, yes? Aewill, if you could begin with reporting their findings to me?”

As the knight began to speak once more, Kerenza’s hands slid underneath the table. Balling up into fists over her thighs, the duchess forced herself to calm down. How exciting! To be at the forefront of an army composed of the populations of all, in a concentrated effort to wipe out Baelwill!

She could wait, but she definitely didn’t want to!

“Yeah, Kerenza, if you’re not going to listen, I’ll just come back later…”

“No, stay. I fear I may act disgracefully if left to my own devices.”

Stars shone brightly in the sky when Willow awoke, though from his position the foliage blocked much of the night sky. From deep sleep to fully awake, he woke without any sense of drowsiness. Birdsongs made him aware of the happenings in his surroundings, and he smiled as he pushed himself to his feet. Balanced on a branch some distance from the ground, he glanced around for a few moments and then stepped forward to fall. From branch to branch, he slowed his descent to the forest floor before he patted his attire smooth and slipped through the underbrush to rejoin his pack.

Without any attempt to hide his approach, he could feel hidden eyes watch him return. Pausing for a moment, he looked up at some of the nearby trees before he raised a hand in greeting. He smiled at the lack of any response, dipping his head slightly, before he continued on towards the camp.

A few dying fires illuminated painted the clearing with flickering shadows, and Willow took the time to admire the varied styles of shelter that made up the camp. Yet another reminder of exactly what had been accomplished and those that had been brought together. It took him a moment to pick out a specific tent among the dozens, but after doing so he quickly made his way towards it. People slept soundly for the most part, even with his passing, but his keen ears picked up slight stirrings as some of the early risers began to wake.

Approaching the tent, Willow’s ears twitched as a hand dropped to grasp a piece of wood hooked onto his belt. The other hand rose to brush aside the tent flap and he took in the surroundings as he stepped inside. It wasn’t too odd to find the place empty at this time, but there was something else that made him uneasy… It took him a few moments to finally notice what set him on edge. A pair of white orbs slinked forth from the folds of the tent’s fabric, shadowy vapors wisping around and coalescing into a vaguely humanoid form. Lightning crackled as the piece of wood rapidly reshaped itself into a bow, but the creature had slipped away by the time the string was drawn.

He held the stance for awhile longer before he allowed his magic to fade away with an uneasy sigh… “That was a Primordial,” he murmured to himself as he wandered about the tent, searching for any hint, beyond those of legends, to why the creature had appeared. A sigh of disappointment at the lack of any results, and he resolved to ask Myra about it later. Perhaps the scholar would know more…

Considering their practice chased away the darkness with bright displays of magic, it wasn’t particularly difficult for Willow to find his two acquaintances. He stopped a fair distance away and returned Myra’s nod before waiting in silence for the pair to finish their lesson. Another werefolk stood at the center of the clearing, arcane sigils and glyphs swirling in the air around him. His expression was one of concentration, but it faltered with each of Myra’s motions. A gesture here would cause a glyph to flicker, and a quick swipe all but erased another as the Werefolk tried to salvage the first. The Neodragon examined and broke apart her student’s arrays without any show of effort, and she simply smiled when he finally collapsed to a knee; unable to keep up any further.

“That’s a new record I believe,” she remarked as she strode over and hauled the boy up onto his feet. Still in the midst of catching his breath, the Werefolk could only nod in response as his posture remained unsteady. Sure he would not collapse once more, the Neodragon ruffled his hair briefly to his annoyance before she turned to Willow. “Morning. You’ve received the message?”

Seeing his raised brow, her expression betrayed a hint of exasperation before she shook her head slightly and gestured flippantly at one his pockets. While Willow busied with unfolding the piece of parchment, she turned her attention back to Elliot for a moment. “I’m sure Willow’s wondering how much you’ve learned. Up for a demonstration?” A hesitant look in his direction by the younger Werefolk wasn’t missed, and he paused his reading briefly to look up.

It was hard to tell if his acknowledgement bolstered or shook Elliot’s resolve, as he tensed, but eventually the young mage nodded. Raising the lantern that served as his focus, Eli blew on the flame gently and numerous tendrils lashed out, burning sigils and marks into the air. They shifted and rotated quickly, arranging themselves before the Werefolk, and a few gestures caused them to glow bright with power. A quiet mutter from Eli released the gathered energy in great gouts of flame that bathed the clearing in a sea of flames, the heat and light so intense that Willow had no choice but to turn away.

Shielded from the conflagration, he whistled in admiration as he folded and pocketed the message. “So when did this arrive?”

“One of the Boars came back from town with it,” Myra replied as she worked to contain the damage from Elliot’s display. Layered barriers isolated the heat and destruction and actively smothering the flames now that the show was over with. “You will respond?”

“Don’t really have a choice now do I?” He scoffed as the barriers fell away and a wave of hot air rushed over him. Irritated expression as he squinted aside, Willow walked forward and reached out towards Elliot. Ignoring the younger boy’s flinch, he pat the kid a few times on the head and nodded before he turned to look back at Myra. “Think you’ll be free to accompany me?”

“Perhaps. I’ll send word ahead?” Once he nodded, she stepped past him towards Elliot. With that taken care of, Willow left the two alone as he faded seamlessly back into the treeline and returned to camp. Preparations needed to be made for travel.

The sounds of the sea and the cry of the seagulls that accompanied them echoed off the walls of Cynthia’s bedchamber. Brilliant sunlight streamed through the room’s large bay windows, only partially blocked by a lone maid by the window. From the four-poster bed near the sunlit window, a snugly tucked in girl stirred, rustled by the sound of panes being winched open.

Ultimately, she was roused by the absence of curtains, having been pushed aside by the golden-haired maid. Rolling to the edge of the bed to sit up, she yawned, stretching her arms up high. “Good morning Luna,” she yawned once again, a greeting which was copied and reciprocated in return.

Exchanging a wordless glance with her personal maid and childhood friend, she stood up to be dressed. Cynthia drew no pleasure from formal attire, and accordingly dressed herself in sweaters and loose skirts, comfortable clothing suitable for the north’s frigid climes. Having clothed her mistress, the short-haired maid disappeared.

-

Although freshened and clothed, she was yet to have her breakfast tea, and as such, the pattern of her movements as she made for her meal in hallways looked near aimless. Unusual today, the halls were devoid servants, a fact not lost even on the sleepy girl.

As she raised her finger to wipe an eye, a movement on the royal rugs in front her caught her eye. Billowing upwards as if smoke, a shadowed figure rose from the floor, staring without emotion through two white eyes at a now alert girl. She raised a hand as if to cast, but as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. Her eyes narrowed as she searched her surroundings, but found nothing amiss.

The existence and meaning of such a creature appearing where she was wasn’t lost on her. Fully awake, Cynthia pondered the thought as she arrived at her dining room for her morning meal.

-

“You’re awake today.” She was met with sarcastic, but genuine surprise from her maid, who stood at the ready with a silver tray. “And so she is,” said a male voice seated at side of Cynthia’s long table. Slightly lanky and of silver hair, he was Edmund, another merchant and her right-hand man. In a childish manner, she stuck out her tongue and seated herself at the head of the table.

It was indeed rare for her to be fully awake in the morning, and she and everybody else knew it. Regardless, she had little energy to quip back. Setting a white napkin on her lap, she mixed milk into her black tea, taking a sip before she worked on a breakfast of eggs, sausages, and toast. As was customary in her household, after setting down a package of letters and reports, Luna sat down across from Edmund to join the two at the table for their meal.

“So? How did the business with Lord Barentz go?” Placing a cut piece of meat in her mouth, she looked at her silver-haired associate with a single open eye. “I doubt he’s all smiles after Brilliant Alice was lost.” Cynthia was referring to the third merchant ship out of their port lost in a two-week period to the infamous vessel-devouring leviathan. While it was not one of her own, there was heavy pressure on her to deal with the monster. Barentz, an insurer, was one of many.

“He’s demanded more escorts for his clients, as expected. As I’m sure you’re acutely aware, our own position hasn’t changed, so I politely told him to ‘fuck off’, as you will.”

“Good man. But we’re going to have to do something more about this soon—“

Sipping her tea in one hand, she rifled through the stack of letters before she stopped on one with the seal of the Mecrundyr Federation. Pausing, she shot a glance at her maid who dismissively waved it away. “You were going to see it anyway.”

Raising her own eyebrows, Cynthia unceremoniously opened the envelope with her butter knife. Wordlessly, she scanned the pages within as she finished her tea, refilling it before passing it on to her 2nd and her maid.

“The prophecy, is it?” Luna looked up, having read the document. “That’s presumptuous of them…”

“But it makes sense.”

The brown haired merchant glanced between her two subordinates. “Regardless of what you think, this makes the first formal contact by Neerie. Miguild’s signature is clear. Too bad the timing is inopportune.”

Edmund rubbed his chin. “You will accept, then?”

“I think I will.”

Edwyrd rose with the start of a new day, the pleasant sunshine obscured by the clouds that drifted overhead. The young man had half a mind to sleep in a bit, to try and get some more rest after the long night that had just taken place. But he knew that he couldn't do that, if only because there were things that he needed to do now.

Rising from bed, he took a few minutes to do some stretches, hoping that it would wake him up for the day more than he was already. By the time he had finished his employed servant arrived, an older gentleman named Garcia who was very good at what he did, and not only provided useful council but also knew how to be discreet when times called for it.

“Good morning Signior. Breakfast will be ready soon,” Garcia said as he helped Edwyrd shrug into one of his better suits. He had a part to play after all, and it would be a shame to not look as best as he could for the occasion.

Edwyrd nodded, a smile on his face. “Sounds good. Thank you.” With himself ready, he spun in the mirror before exiting the room, heading towards the dining room to have his breakfast. He had a few meetings planned, but for the moment he could enjoy the day.

This day he went to the dining room that was outside, though admittedly there was a roof to avert any rain that might come. He could have eaten inside, but he didn't feel like sequestering himself away from the people. One had to be open to the public, and so he was. Noise drifted in from the rousing city, a street running nearby and buildings surrounding his home. Sure, there was a bit of space, but if some random laborer had wanted to come up and talk to him, they could. That was the point of being a patrician.

Taking a seat at the table, he looked out over the spread that had been prepared, with Garcia standing nearby, and his associate Victor across from him. “Good morning,” he said to the older man with a nod. “Where are Alexio and Felicia?”

“They're busy, but they should be here shortly,” Victor reassured him as he began to eat, only once Edwyrd had begun. It was his right as the head of the household, but to the both of them it was just natural.

Edwyrd nodded, a hum escaping as he sampled the well prepared food. It was only natural that he would have a good cook. How could a man, or elf, operate without a full stomach and the energy to challenge the day? “So, how are things fairing?”

“Good,” Victor reassured him. “There was a bit of a scuffle down in the factory district regarding pay, but it's been resolved for the moment. Profits are within expected margins though.”

Edwyrd frowned to himself, reflecting on that. “Well, money isn't everything. I'll have to take a trip down there, see if there are some grievances that need addressing. Surely we can prevent violence in the future.” That sort of conflict didn't help anyone, and just cast a bad impression of their fair Republic. If he could fix that, then he had an obligation to.

“I'll let them know to expect you,” Victor agreed with a nod, not trying to convince him otherwise at this point.

Before they could go on, a child ran up, younger than Edwyrd himself by a good span. “Signior, signior! I have a letter for you!” The boy waved around his package, paper fluttering in the breeze, though he was quick to hand it over when Edwyrd offered an open hand.

Edwyrd smiled as he took the letter, glancing at it to see the official looking script upon it, and the seal which indicated that it was from the office of the mayor himself. “Ah, Phillipe. Where's your papa? I was looking forward to talking with him.”

That did not dim the young boys energy as he provided an answer. “He's sick Mister Edwyrd. I'm taking his place until he gets better.”

That earned a slight frown as Edwyrd ran a hand through his hair in consideration. “I see” He ruffled through one of his pockets before producing a couple gold coins, handing them over to Phillipe. “Here, take these and tell your father I hope he gets better soon.”

The boy's eyes widened as he took the coins, examining them in the light before quickly pocketing. “I will. Thank you signior!” With that he ran off, leaving the two of them alone for the moment.

Victor chuckled at the departing backside of the boy, waving to him as he left. “He reminds me of you when you were that age,” he noted at the same time. Perhaps true, but it was a time that had long past. Now Edwyrd had to focus on business.

“I'm sure you were the same way,” the elf noted as he looked at the letter. There'd be time to deal with that later. For now, he should finish breakfast.

---

After breakfast Edwyrd found himself in his office. It used to be his father's office, and it had shelves of manuscripts and scrolls, an old yet spacious desk that was cluttered with various materials, plenty of chairs, a globe, and a window that allowed him to look out onto the city. All in all it was a pretty nice place, as was expected of someone in his status.

But that was not his focus at the moment. Instead, he was looking towards the letter that he had opened before. The contents weren't what he had expected, though the list of people who had signed on was impressive. It seemed as though there was some sort of organization being formed that was directed against Baelwill, and based on the prophecy. Odd and unexpected, but it was an honor to some extent. Even if he didn't believe in prophecies all that much.

Having read it, he left it in place as he turned towards the window. “Hm, what to do,” he muttered to himself. No one could make this decision but him, but he wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to act and make a mark, but he wasn't sure whether he was willing to stake his future on some prophecy that others thought applied to him.

Sighing, he turned away from the window, only to be struck motionless. Standing there in the middle of the room was a shadowy figure with white eyes, matching Edwyrd's eyes as they widened. Shock merged into worry of a sort, wondering just what this meant. He had never expected that this would happen, not in a hundred years.

Then in the blink of an eye it was gone once again, leaving him alone there. Glancing down, he realized that his hands were trembling, without him even realizing. In a daze he moved over to his desk and sat down, gaze fixed on that spot. That....That had been a Primordial. But they were only supposed to appear underground!

Yet he had seen it, and that left him with little choice. If it had shown up now then that meant that this was important. Reaching out to the letter, he looked it over once again. It seemed he didn't have a choice after all.