Shadow Touched (Editing)

45. NAIMA

General Welland,

I write to you from the highlands in Fridigate. Ravenfort, to be exact. Our small reconnaissance team has been decimated. I am all that survives, and I know not for how long, as I have been gravely injured. I beg your forgiveness but I've had to dictate this letter to the City Watch.

The disturbance we came to investigate is worse than previously believed. I beg you sir, upon completion of this letter, seek His Majesty and ignite the firewall to warn the people—the Gloaming has arrived.

Our group of tried and true imperial soldiers have perished at the hands of two Shadow Touched. A boy of but 10 and a young woman, no older than twenty, tore through the limbs of the King's men as though they ripped the arms off cloth dolls. As if they plucked the petals from daisies as they played in the fields.

Ravenfort is in imminent peril. A deep freeze has settled in, destroying the crops in the surrounding farmlands despite the summer season. The city's wells have frozen solid. The elders read the signs before I arrived and have, in their infinite wisdom, raised the Umbra Claustra. I know not how long the barrier will last.

These Shadow Touched, Sir; they are unlike any I have heard of. They wait patiently outside the city gates. They bide their time. Every hour the girl throws a pebble, and they watch the way it shimmers, as if...as if they can see its power weakening.

The City's mage replenishes the barrier's magics, but the power it requires...

I am sending this letter to you via ice pigeon. I hope it finds you in time. Ravenfort and the thousands of souls that dwell within it depend on you.

For Athecca, our only God. Nos qui vivimus

Corporal Jens Livitkas

~*~

There's no time to discuss Harbour's note once we return to the castle. Our outing took up more time than expected. Within seconds of crossing the castle's threshold, my lady maids—Cara and Lily—whisked me back to my rooms to prepare for the state dinner.

Finch ran off without so much as a goodbye.

It doesn't matter. The time alone gives me a chance to think.

I've always hated Lorris Welland. He's a conniving bastard. My father once described Welland as someone who hangs his mouth where the soup drips. I imagine that's what he's doing now. Things have been shaky for House Valderre. Grey's illness and some surprising political blunders have led to unrest throughout the kingdom. Athecca's enemies have grown bolder as they rally power. I wonder if Welland, sensing the Kingdom's instability, somehow connected with Solditch and determined he was the stronger ally? That's the only possible explanation for him having Lucretzia's journals.

Or, I suppose, he really is the prat Grey's always said he is, and he has no idea what he has. That doesn't make any sense. If he doesn't know their importance, why would he pay Harbour—or anyone—to steal them? It's not like they were taken from someone's private library. Breaking into the University of Caro is no easy task. It houses some of the most precious and priceless Atheccan artifacts. A contentious fact, as King Vincent has unsuccessfully lobbied for the items' return for years. Even if we ignored that point, having Harbour agree to a cor subsisto tells me the journals are more important than I think.

It's all so frustrating. I just want answers. Answers and a way to save Grey. Instead, I'm being made up like a doll for King Vincent to parade around all the heads of state. Why are we even having a state dinner when the Jubilee is in two days, and presumably, all these rulers will be in attendance? It seems redundant.