The messenger bowed until his forehead nearly brushed the cold stone and then he turned and left, his footsteps fading down the corridor until there was nothing left but the wind moving through the arches like a sigh. Kael watched him go and gave one slow nod, and in that single movement I understood everything, it meant yes, it meant begin, it meant the war we had been dreading was finally here.
After that the yard fell into a silence that felt wrong, the kind of quiet that settles right before lightning splits the sky, torches lined the walls and threw restless orange light over steel and skin and the packed earth that had been worn smooth by years of training, below us I could hear the sounds of preparation, leather being pulled tight, buckles clicking into place, the scrape of claws
