The inn was quiet for the evening, save for the crackling of the fire and the distant chatter of a few lingering travelers. Killan’s party had secured a table in the corner, each one nursing their drinks as the hour stretched late into the night. The air outside had grown colder, but there was an undercurrent of warmth within the wooden walls of the small tavern in Vetasta.
Killan leaned back in his chair, his fingers lightly tapping the handle of his mug. The conversation had turned to the Northern Kingdom, and their ti spent in the city had provided them with whispers and rumors. As usual, they had to sift through half-truths, vague recollections, and stories from hushed voices. But sothing about the Northern people intrigued them - sothing dark, yet enticing.
Vignir, ever the one to take in the atmosphere, spoke first. His voice was low and steady, never one to rush into anything without thought.
"From what I’ve gathered," he began, his gaze sweeping over the table, "House Svedana has ruled the North for centuries. Most Houses stand behind them. They’ve been through wars, mainly with the West, but sohow they stand unbroken. No one dares challenge them at present. They’ve endured."
Killan remained silent. He knew from history that the South had also lost to the North many years ago, well before his ti.
Harlan, who had been silent up until now, spoke next. "House Svedana. The townsfolk did say they have so kind of powers - abilities, summoning spirits to fight by their side and so others. And so blood magic, or so they call it. That’s why they’ve been able to defend the North for so long. Their won are the heart of that House - the ones who command the very power that protects them."
Santi, with his usual bluntness, chid in. "Sounds like fairy tales to . Spirits? Magic powers? Let’s not get carried away. Magic and other abilities tied to them have not been seen for years now."
"No," Vignir countered with a soft smile, "it’s more than that. We know the North has always been steeped in mystery. There’s sothing to it. Perhaps that’s why they’ve managed to stay so strong."
Killan didn’t speak imdiately. His mind was on what he’d heard earlier that evening - the more disquieting rumors. "What else have you heard?" he asked, his voice steady but with a weight that hinted at deeper curiosity.
Vignir leaned back, crossing his arms as she spoke with caution. "Well, there was a ti when the rule of House Svedana fell to a non-blooded male. A man who was not of their bloodline had sohow seized the throne and beca King. That’s when the North started to crumble. There were whispers of tragedy - despair at the highest court. And then... it was said that one of the King’s many children, a daughter, killed him. Took his life after years of suffering. So say she did it to end the madness, others say it was for power."
Killan’s eyes narrowed as the conversation lingered on the tragic rumors. He was no stranger to rumors or whispers, but sothing about this story - the daughter of House Svedana taking the life of her own father - struck a chord with him.
"A daughter?" he muttered, more to himself than to the others. "A daughter killing her father for power? It’s not that difficult to believe given that House Svedana used to be ruled by won."
"Isn’t it?" Santi raised an eyebrow. "Given what we know of the North, it makes a certain kind of sense. The people of this land aren’t ruled by rcy. They’ve had their share of struggles, and it seems bloodlines matter more than any title here, and one rose to answer the call of power."
Killan’s mind drifted to the n he had seen that day - the townspeople called them Lord Elex and General Asta. The tall, commanding presence of Elex, and the subtle tension in Asta’s gaze had caught his attention. They had struck him as figures of strength, and yet there was sothing elusive about them. After all, he had only caught a glimpse of them as they passed. It was only natural to be curious.
Killan was quiet for a mont, his fingers now gripping the edge of his mug. "I think I saw so people from House Svedana today," he said slowly, his tone thoughtful. "They were dressed as if they were soone important. Two n. Tall, dark-haired. I asked so common folk about them."
Harlan nodded, taking a slow drink before speaking. "What did they say?"
"Just their nas," Killan continued. "And titles. One is Lord Elex, Commander of the Northern Armies and the eldest son of the late King. The other, Asta, a cousin of the ruling family, and now a General."
Santi leaned forward, eyes narrowed with interest. "You think they’re the ones we should be speaking with?"
"It’s possible," Killan said, his gaze shifting to each of his companions. "We need to find out more. We know there’s been a shift in the power of House Svedana, and I believe those two n are key to understanding it."
The conversation paused as each of them digested what Killan had revealed. The silence that followed was heavy, filled with questions they didn’t yet have answers to. The power in the North was shifting, and now, it seed, the key players had nas. Lord Elex and General Asta.
***
The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting a warm, amber glow across the wooden floorboards. Just as Killan was about to rise and suggest they retire for the night, the tavern door creaked open, letting in a gust of cold northern air. A young boy, no older than ten, stepped inside, carrying a folded piece of parchnt pressed against his chest.
The innkeeper wiped her hands on her apron and hurried over. After exchanging a few quiet words with the boy, she walked towards their table, her expression caught between curiosity and caution.
"This ca for you," she said, handing the sealed parchnt to Killan. "Delivered by a runner from the Keep."
Killan took it, feeling the weight of the seal - thick, silver-blue wax, stamped with a mountain crest partially hidden by clouds. He broke it carefully, unfolding the ssage beneath the table’s dim light.
The words were clear and commanding, carrying the weight of authority.
***
To Killan of House Valmird, King of Athax and the South,
You are hereby granted an audience within the halls of Vetasta’s Keep. You and your company will present yourselves at first light. Bring only your honor. Weapons will remain sheathed.
We welco you to the North.
- Elex of House Svedana
***
Killan read it twice, weighing every word before setting it down on the table. His companions leaned in, exchanging glances, the fire casting long shadows across their faces.
"Summons," Vignir said under his breath. "Formal enough. Although that was quicker than expected."
"Or perhaps," Harlan mused, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips, "they were already watching us."
"Direct," Vignir added, his smile sharp. "But not unkind."
"Still sounds like we’ll be walking into a lion’s den," Santi muttered, cracking his knuckles.
Killan gave a slow, thoughtful nod. "Then we walk in with our heads high."
He folded the letter carefully and tucked it away. "Get so rest," he said, rising from his chair. "Tomorrow, we go et with House Svedana."
The fire crackled low as they retreated to their rooms, the ancient banners of Vetasta whispering in the cold night air.
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