The strangers arrived at dawn.
William saw them from the Academy roof—a caravan of wagons and horses, winding down the eastern road toward the city gate. The banner they flew was not from Veridias. It was a field of green, emblazoned with a silver tree.
"They're from the old empire," Julian said beside him. "No one has come from the east in decades."
"Someone has now."
William climbed down from the roof and walked to the gate. The caravan was already inside—fifty people, maybe more. They wore clothes William had never seen: wool and leather, dyed in bright colors. Their faces were weathered, their hands calloused. They looked like people who had traveled a long way.
Their leader was a woman with gray-streaked hair and a scar across her jaw. She carried no weapon, but her eyes missed n
