The hall was unusually quiet. Sunlight streaming through the high windows made the marble floor seem to shine, but there was no sign of life in the place except for King Tarel, seated on his throne, staring at the letter in his hands.
He didn't read it word for word. His eyes passed over the words, but his mind was elsewhere. His fingers moved slowly across the paper. A letter from the Kingdom of Ozria, asking for aid.
He let out a long sigh and looked at the paper again, then slowly folded it and placed it on his armrest. A heavy feeling overtook him.
Ozria had always been a strong kingdom. But the letter wasn't just a cry for help. It was... an admission of defeat. A threat gnawing at them, unknown and incomprehensible. Unknown. And Tarel... did not like the unknown.
Soft footsteps interrupted his thoughts. He turned and saw his advisor, Jenos, approaching quietly, as he always did.
"Have you made a decision about the letter?" Jenos asked, his tone cautious.
