The war room in Valdris Castle is spacious, dominated by a large table covered in maps, reports, and strategic markers. The walls are lined with banners representing different duchies, and the air is thick with tension, anticipation, and the weight of decisions that will determine the fate of thousands.

  Duke Aran Valdris stands at the head of the table, his presence commanding respect. As the Duke of Valdris and host of this war council, he holds the authority here. His armor is polished, his bearing military-precise, and his eyes sharp as he surveys the gathered stakeholders.

  Around the table sit the other stakeholders—the people whose decisions will shape the coming battle.

  A representative from Duke Kaelen sits to Aran's right—a stern-faced military officer, Commander Varek. He's a middle-aged man with graying hair and a warrior's build, his armor polished but showing signs of recent use.

  Next to Varek sits a man whose presence speaks of recent battle—Commander Rylan, representing Duke Agvara. His uniform is worn, stained with dirt and what might be dried blood. Dark circles under his eyes tell of sleepless nights, and his posture, though still military-straight, carries the weight of a commander watching his duchy fall. "Your Grace," Rylan says, his voice rough with exhaustion. "Agvara is on the brink. Xian's forces have pushed us back to the northern pass. Duke Agvara himself fights on the front lines alongside our soldiers, but we've held them for three weeks and our defenses are crumbling. We've lost a third of our forces. If reinforcements don't arrive within days, the pass will fall, and Xian will have a clear path to the heartland."

  He pauses, his expression grave. "Agvara will not forget any aid rendered. Whatever terms are required—trade agreements, resource sharing, future military support—we will honor them. We repay our debts."

  Duke Aran studies the map, his expression grave. "What's the current situation at the pass?"

  "The pass itself is still ours," Rylan says, pointing to the map. "But Xian has forces on both sides, pressing from the north and east. They're using siege weapons, magical bombardment, and overwhelming numbers. We're holding, but barely. Our mages are exhausted. Our soldiers are fighting on minimal rations. We need fresh troops, supplies, and magical support. Without them, we can't hold for more than a week."

  Lady Seraphina sits across from him, her presence dignified and authoritative. As the head of the Mage's Guild, she holds significant influence, though not the political authority of a duke. Behind her, standing silently, is her most trusted subordinate—a tall, sharp-eyed mage named Elara, her personal aide and confidante. "The Mage's Guild will provide magical support," Seraphina says, her voice clear. "But we need coordination with the military. Magic alone won't win this war."

  A representative from Duke Ironhold sits at the far end of the table—a stern-faced woman named Commander Vex. She's been sent with Ironhold's offer. "Ironhold will send fifteen hundred soldiers," Vex says, her voice clipped, military-precise. "But we need Valdris and Kaelen to match that commitment. We won't fight alone."

  Beside Duke Aran stands Commander Darius, Valdris's military commander. His presence is steady, authoritative, his armor bearing the crest of Valdris. He's been listening silently, but now he speaks. "Valdris is prepared to commit twenty-five hundred soldiers," Darius says, his voice firm. "Our forces are ready. We can march within three days."

  Commander Varek nods. "Kaelen will commit twenty-five hundred soldiers. But we need the Mage's Guild's support. Xian's magical corps is powerful. Without mages, we'll be at a severe disadvantage."

  "The Guild will provide fifty battle mages," Seraphina says with decisiveness. "And twenty healers. That's the maximum we can spare."

  Duke Aran studies the map spread across the table, his expression calculating. "Commander Rylan, what's your assessment of Xian's forces? Their numbers? Their capabilities?"

  "At least twelve thousand soldiers," Rylan says, his voice grim. "Possibly more. They have siege engines and at least a hundred battle mages that we've identified. Their mages are formidable, using coordinated attacks that break through our defensive lines. We've lost entire units to their bombardments."

  Commander Rylan continues, his expression grim. "Every day we wait, more of our soldiers die. More ground is lost. To hold the pass, we need support—troops and supplies to sustain the defense. We can't do this alone."

  The discussion continues for another hour—strategies, troop movements, supply lines, defensive positions. Commander Rylan provides detailed intelligence on Xian's tactics and siege capabilities. Each stakeholder brings their concerns, their resources, their ideas and demands. It's a delicate balance, a negotiation where every decision has consequences.

  Finally, Duke Aran raises his hand, silencing the room. "Let us move ahead with this strategy then," he says, his voice authoritative. "We coordinate our forces, reinforce the northern pass, and push back Xian's advance."

  He looks around the table, meeting each person's eyes. "Are we in agreement?"

  One by one, they nod. Commander Varek. Commander Rylan. Commander Darius. Lady Seraphina. Commander Vex. All of them. Agreement.

  Commander Rylan's shoulders relax slightly, relief visible in his expression. "Thank you, Your Grace. Thank you everyone present here. This gives Agvara a chance. My people... they've been holding the line. They'll hold until reinforcements arrive."

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  "Then it's settled," Duke Aran says. "We move in three days. Prepare your forces. Coordinate with your commanders. This battle will determine the fate of the northern border."

  The meeting concludes. Commander Varek leaves first, heading back to Kaelen to report the agreement. Commander Vex departs, carrying Ironhold's commitment. Commander Darius remains with Duke Aran to coordinate Valdris's preparations. Commander Rylan prepares to leave, but Aran stops him.

  "Commander Rylan," Aran says. "Return to Agvara. Tell your forces that help is coming. Hold the pass for three more days. We'll get there and we will crush the enemy."

  "Thank you, Your Grace," Rylan says, bowing deeply, his voice thick with emotion. "Your reputation precedes you. When word reaches the front that General Aran Valdris himself marches to our aid, our soldiers will fight with renewed strength. Your presence on the battlefield will be worth a thousand men."

  Lady Seraphina rises, Elara gathering documents behind her. They prepare to leave, but Aran gestures for them to wait.

  "Lady Seraphina," Aran says. "A moment, if you please."

  Seraphina pauses, turning back to face the duke. "Of course, Your Grace."

  Soon, only Duke Aran, Seraphina, and Elara remain in the war room.

  Duke Aran speaks. "Lady Seraphina, I wanted to inquire about those medical artifacts I requested some time ago. The ones for field healing—they'll be essential for the coming battle."

  Seraphina's expression remains composed, but there's a slight tightening around her eyes. "We are preparing them, Your Grace. The enchantments are complex, and creating artifacts of that quality takes time. But they will be ready before the forces march. I'll have them delivered to your quartermaster within two days."

  "Good," Aran says, his expression satisfied. "I trust the Guild's craftsmanship. Those artifacts could save many lives on the battlefield."

  "Of course, Your Grace," Seraphina says, bowing slightly. "The Guild understands the importance of this request. We will not fail you."

  Aran nods, dismissing them with a gesture. "Then I'll see you in three days, Lady Seraphina. Safe travels."

  Seraphina and Elara leave the war room, walking through the castle corridors in silence. Only when they're outside, does Seraphina speak.

  "Are we on track?" Seraphina says, her voice quiet.

  "Three of the five are complete, my lady," Elara says, matching her pace. "The remaining two should be finished by tomorrow evening. The enchantments are holding well, and the healing properties are stable."

  "Good," Seraphina says. "Duke Aran is counting on them. We cannot afford delays."

  "Of course, my lady," Elara says. "The artifacts will be delivered on time."

  They walk in silence for a moment, then Seraphina's expression shifts, becoming more thoughtful. "Elara," Seraphina says, her voice quiet.

  "Yes, my lady?" Elara responds.

  Seraphina studies her subordinate for a moment, then asks, "What about that troublesome child? Any news?"

  Elara's expression shifts slightly—a flicker of something that might be amusement, or concern, or both. "Aria? We've lost track of her, my lady. Our tracking spells went dark a few days ago. The last we knew, she fled Xian, but her current location is unknown."

  Seraphina's expression shows slight concern. "It seems she pushed herself too hard this time."

  "Yes, my lady," Elara says. "She's been taking on assignments beyond her current level, not strictly adhering to instructions. Reckless, as always. And now, with her location unknown, we can only hope she's safe."

  "Reckless can be useful in the right circumstances," Seraphina says, her voice thoughtful. "Try to locate her. Based on what she knows about Xian, she could be invaluable."

  "Of course, my lady," Elara says, bowing slightly. "I'll continue trying to locate her. Our tracking mages are working on it, but either someone has blocked our spells, or she's moved beyond our detection range. We'll find Aria."

  Seraphina nods. "Make it happen. We'll need every advantage we can get."

  ---

  Aria wakes slowly, consciousness returning in fragments. Pain. That's the first thing she feels. Especially in her shoulder, sharp, burning.

  She opens her eyes, and her world explodes into panic.

  Wolves!!

  ********* Chapter end *********