The letter arrived on a gray morning.
William found it tucked under his door—a single sheet of paper, folded once, sealed with a crude wax stamp. No symbol. No name. Just the mark of someone who did not want to be identified.
He broke the seal and read.
William Draven,
I know who you are. I know what you've done. I know the village you've built. I am coming to see you. I am coming to see if the stories are true.
Do not try to stop me.
—A Friend
William read the words twice. Then he burned the letter in the hearth.
Elara stood in the doorway, her arms crossed. "Another threat?"
"I don't think so."
"Then what?"
"I think it's someone who wants to meet me."
"Should we be worried?"
William looked at the ashes. At the remnants of the letter that had summoned him.
"I don't know yet.
