The messenger arrived on the tenth day, a different man from the one Kaelen had sent, older, quieter, his face hidden beneath a hooded cloak. He was admitted to the council chamber in secret, with only Kaelen, Torvin, and me present. The fragments still lay on the table, their symbols pulsing faintly, as if they too were waiting for news from the South.
The messenger bowed, his movements precise and economical. "Your Grace. I bring a message from Prince Lucian. He said it was urgent and that I was to place it in your hands and no other."
Kaelen took the leather satchel, breaking the seal with his signet ring. Inside was a single sheet of parchment, covered in dense, cramped handwriting. Lucian's script, I recognized, from the letters he had sent me during my time at the academy. But this was different. The words were layered, written in a code I did not recognize.
