CHAPTER 61:
Dawn broke pale and wind-whipped over the ridge, the snow crusted hard beneath our boots. The courtyard was already bustling, seven horses saddled and packed, their breath pluming white in the biting air. These were our messengers — chosen not for their skill with a sword, but for their voice, their calm, their ability to listen as much as they spoke. They would ride to every corner of the land, carrying no edict, no demand — only the truth about Morgrath, the lessons of resistance, and an open invitation to join the Union on equal terms.
I stood beside the lead horse, checking the straps of the leather satchels filled with hand-copied scrolls and small iron tokens stamped with the twin suns. Each rider carried the same message: We do not command. We do not conquer. We offer
