Far beyond civilization's reaches, a lone figure stood in the grand hall within a towering citadel carved into the mountainside. Clad in regal black robes, he gazed upon an ancient map spread across the table before him.
His fingers traced the borders of a once-forgotten kingdom, his expression unreadable. Outside, the wind howled against the stone walls, carrying whispers of distant lands lost to time.
A knock echoed through the chamber. Without turning, he spoke. "Enter."
A hooded man stepped forward and knelt. "My lord, the Lichtensteins are no more. The girl... she survived. And she was not alone. There was a man with her, a warrior from the East, though we do not yet know his name."
Silence stretched between them.
Then, the lord smirked. "So, she escaped death twice. And now, she walks beside the exile. How interesting."
His gaze shifted to the darkened horizon beyond the stained-glass windows. The moon hung high, its glow illuminating the sharp contours of his face.
"Prepare the agents. The game has begun."
The kneeling man bowed and vanished into the shadows.
The figure in black let out a quiet chuckle. "Come, little foxes. You and your companion yet so different. Let us see if you are truly worthy of your bloodline."
The candlelight flickered. The storm loomed, casting twisted shadows that danced upon the walls. The hooded lord's deep, resonant laughter echoed as thunder bellowed in the darkness, rolling across the mountains like a beast awakened from slumber.
A flash of lightning illuminated his sharp features, his eyes glinting with something between amusement and hunger.
Beyond the citadel, the storm's fury took hold. Lightning crackled across the heavens, illuminating the jagged peaks that encased the fortress like sentinels. Rain fell in relentless sheets, drumming against the stone walls. Inside, the lady remained motionless, her fingers tightening around the hilt of a ceremonial dagger resting beside the map.
"We have waited long enough," she murmured. "The old order crumbles, and the pieces move as I have foreseen."
Footsteps approached from the far end of the chamber. Another figure emerged, a woman clad in dark, flowing garments, her face partially obscured by a sheer veil. She carried a scroll bearing a crimson seal and placed it upon the table without a word.
The lady's smirk deepened as she unfurled the parchment, scanning its contents. Her amusement faded into something colder, sharper.
"So, they had finally made their move," she muttered. "And the Guild remains silent. Typical."
The woman finally spoke, her voice smooth as silk. "What are your orders?"
She rolled the scroll closed and turned her gaze to her. "Send word to the sleeper agents. The hunt begins at dawn. Let us see what kind of warriors these exiles have become."
The woman nodded and slipped back into the shadows, her departure as silent as her arrival.
Left alone, the lady returned her attention to the map, her fingers resting upon a single name etched into the parchment, a name long forgotten by history, but not by her. Her grip on the ceremonial dagger tightened, a slow smile forming.
The game was set. The pieces were in motion. She trailed one piece in the war map of the world, smiling as she caressed it.
She whispered a name, her voice barely audible beneath the raging storm. "Let us see if you are truly worthy of your lineage."