Mist curled through the frozen pines as Sylvie Lightwhisper and her companions broke camp at the edge of the Frostfang valley. Steam rose from the hot springs where they had sheltered the night, and Frostfang warriors—heavy-clad in wolf-skin cloaks—murmured among themselves, eager to join the coming rebellion. Dawn would see them depart for Emberfall's ash-choked pass, but first, they needed confirmation that Regent Asha's wrath had not yet caught up with them.
A lone rider approached on a pale mare, banner-bearer crest flapping in the wind. His armor was unadorned, but the cold grip of fear in his eyes spoke volumes. The rider halted before Thorne Blackveil, bowed low, and handed him a sealed parchment.
Thorne cut the wax with his dagger. His lips thinned as he broke the seal and read t
