The message arrived carved into the gates of Ashenford, the letters deep and jagged, as if etched by a blade.
Michael found it at dawn, standing in the cold gray light, his breath fogging in the air. The wood was splintered, the words unmistakable.
THE OBSIDIAN WARLORD HAS RISEN. THE HOLLOW PUNCH WILL FALL. ASHENFORD WILL BURN.
Mira appeared beside him, her face pale. "The Obsidian Warlord? I've never heard that name before."
"Neither have I." Michael ran his fingers over the cuts. "But whoever he is, he knows about me. He knows about Ashenford. He knows how to get our attention."
"How do we find him?"
Michael looked at the horizon. At the mountains where the sun was rising. "We don't find him. He finds us. And when he does, we'll be ready."
---
The investigation took three days.
