Despite the snowy stillness over Fort Velkar, Achilles Verentis stood on a battlefield more treacherous than swords and spells: politics.
The relief convoy from House Verentis had been successfully integrated into the fortress supply lines. With food, medicine, and gear secured, his men were in high spirits, unaware of the deeper worries gnawing at their commander's thoughts. Achilles wasn't simply preparing for another battle with Ascendria—he was preparing for the unknown. For silence from the capital that rang louder than a war horn.
Inside the war room, maps littered the central table. Dotted lines stretched along mountain ridges and riverbanks. Pins marked strategic outposts, known raider paths, and newly secured areas of former Ascendrian territory. Achilles traced a gloved finger across one line—one that connected to Valeriand's heart.
"No update from the council?" he asked, not looking up.
Kael entered, his brow tight. "Nothing. And I checked again with our last rider stationed in Redglen. No indication that the capital is even aware of our recent campaigns. It's like we've been…
"Cut off," Achilles finished grimly.
Kael lowered his voice. "You think someone's doing this deliberately?"
"If it were just supply delays, I'd accept incompetence. But this? This is deliberate omission. No acknowledgments, no confirmations, not even a royal seal on the last courier sent out." He turned sharply. "Someone doesn't want us connected."
"But who would risk isolating the border force? We're the kingdom's shield."
Achilles' gaze was ice. "Unless someone within thinks they don't need us anymore."
---
Across the border, Ascendria remained fractured but restless. Intelligence from spies reported strange troop movements, dark rituals whispered among the ruins of their temples. The undead incident had rattled the men, but the meteor spell Achilles cast that day had become the stuff of legend.
Now, rumors among the enemy told of a new champion rising within Ascendria—a warlock general gathering remnants of necromantic legions. Achilles had no intention of letting the border fall under shadow again.
"Get word to the scouts," he told Kael. "I want a report on any unusual activity. We can't be caught unprepared—not again."
"And if this new general really exists?"
Achilles' hand drifted toward the sword at his hip. "Then we deal with him before he becomes a legend."
---
That night, Achilles stood alone at the top of the watchtower. Snowflakes drifted lazily down, caught in the wind.
He had sent another letter to his parents—coded, cautious, but pointed.
> Kingdom silent. Military network inactive. Suspect obstruction, not negligence. Please verify from your end.
He knew Caldus and Irelya wouldn't take it lightly. They still held influence, though the court was shifting. Rumors said that certain factions in Valeriand's capital sought to reshape military command—perhaps remove independent generals like Achilles and replace them with more obedient ones.
He wouldn't let that happen. Not here. Not after all they'd sacrificed.
A quiet knock echoed from the tower stairs.
Kael appeared again. "A messenger. Not from the capital. From your family."
Achilles descended immediately.
In the keep, a courier knelt before him. Dressed in midnight grey, House Verentis' private sigil stitched onto his shoulder. He handed Achilles a sealed scroll.
Achilles broke the wax.
> Son,
Your instincts are correct. Council factions are shifting rapidly. Our allies are being replaced or silenced. No open declaration has been made, but there is an effort to quietly restructure command—without including those who pose a threat to central control.
House Verentis remains intact, but under scrutiny. For now, we hold our ground.
Your mother says to stay sharp—and to wear the gloves she sent.
You have our strength. Stay resolute.
— Caldus Verentis
Achilles folded the letter, expression unreadable.
"So it begins," he muttered.
Kael stood beside him. "You'll have to make a choice soon. Fight only at the border—or prepare for a second war from within."
Achilles didn't answer immediately. He walked to the hearth, held the scroll in the flame, and watched it burn.
Then he turned, his voice low and iron-willed.
"We stay the course. Until the day the kingdom acknowledges what we've done here. Or until we have to remind them."
Kael gave a half-smile. "I suppose we sharpen our swords either way."
Achilles nodded, eyes fixed on the horizon.
"The silent war has already begun."