One of these villagers had an expression that was more bewildered than the rest. It was a middle aged man with a couple of strands of graying hair mixed in with his bob cut black hair. He was standing under the shade of his own home and watching his 2 teenage children sprawled under a tree.
He was genuinely shocked by this occurrence of 5 children popping up on the farm from nowhere.
I need to inform headquarters immediately. This was the man's first thought after recovering from his initial shock. While he was indeed a villager and farmer who had been living on this land since he was born, he also had another identity.
A spy. A spy for the Military Intelligence Department and the Royal Intelligence Department. They had hired him a couple of years back when Rowan Blacksun had returned to his family's home.
Being someone who was the 3rd highest ranking officer in the army, Rowan had access and knowledge of many secret details of both the army and the royal family. They had to make sure no enemy agents got near him to extract information.
Sure, the royals and the army trusted the man who fought bravely on the frontlines for years and was one of their greatest weapons, but you can never be too sure.
The man hurriedly went back inside his small thatch home. He made his way to his bedroom, where he opened his wooden closet and rummaged behind a pile of clothes. That's where he found a crystal that was glowing with a faint rainbow spectrum of colors.
He quickly locked the door and tapped on the crystal ball in a specific pattern: 2 taps followed by a pause and then 3 more taps. One more pause and then 3 more taps again.
The ball pulsed with an eerie white light for a couple of moments. The man knew it was some sort of magic connection trying to connect to wherever the intelligence department's headquarters was.
The man could only wait with beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. It was both from the heat of the day and his own nervousness.
The eerie white pulse soon transitioned into a solid blue glow as the ball had connected.
"Code word please." said a stoic, distorted voice from the other side of the ball. You could not tell the gender or age of the voice as there was a spell filtering it.
"The falcon landed on the apple tree to sleep." replied the villager.
"Code phrase valid. What's up Landon? It's not time for your weekly reports yet." The voice from the ball was now speaking in a familiar tone, as they had known the villager named Landon for a while.
That is indeed the case as the agent was assigned to Landon from the first day of the man spying on Rowan.
"It's an emergency, Falcon. If it weren't, I wouldn't have contacted you so early. Listen to me, five young kids have appeared on his farm." Landon revealed.
The solid blue glow of the communication crystal, known only as a Whisperstone in official documents, flickered violently. The distorted voice of the agent, code-named Falcon, cut through the filtering spell with a sharp intake of breath.
"Five young kids, you say? Landon, are you absolutely certain of this number? And they appeared when?"
The solid blue glow of the communication crystal, known only as a Whisperstone in official documents, flickered violently. The distorted voice of the agent, code-named Falcon, cut through the filtering spell with a sharp intake of breath.
"Five young kids, you say? Landon, are you absolutely certain of this number? And they appeared when?"
Landon, hunched over the crystal in his dimly lit cottage, wiped the sweat from his neck. "Just now, Falcon. Saw them with my own eyes. Five of them. Small. Looked like a mix of ages. The Blacksun… he looked proud. He was carrying one of the girls back to the house."
Silence stretched across the magical connection, a silence heavier and more ominous than the humid air of the Two Rivers Town.
"Understood, Landon. You've done well. Maintain your normal routine. Do not, I repeat, do not make any move that would some out of the ordinary. React how your fellow villagers react. We will handle this from here. Falcon out."
The Whisperstone returned to its inert, faintly rainbow-colored state. Landon sagged against his wooden closet, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He had fired the opening shot of what he knew would be a political and military crisis.
Landon knew a little about the vested interest that the military, royals have with Rowan. Such sudden and groundbreaking news would surely set the all the factions that pay attention to him in a frenzy.
He was sure that there would soon be changes within this dry and quiet village.
...
Miles to the northeast, beyond the scorched earth of the drought-ridden kingdom, lay the beating heart of the Bluecrown Kingdom: Bluecrown City.
Founded over a thousand years ago on the meeting point of three powerful mana veins, the city was less a collection of buildings and more a fortress of stone, steel, and magic. Its structure was a physical manifestation of the kingdom's rigid social hierarchy.
The outermost ring, known as the Trade Districts, was a labyrinth of bustling markets, crowded apartments, and coiling alleyways. Here, the common folk, laborers, and merchants lived under the shadow of the massive outer walls.
The security was handled primarily by the City Watch, a force of well-armored but low-ranking knights and non-magical guards.
The second ring, the Gentry and Scholar Districts, was defined by stately stone houses, well-manicured public parks, and the towering spires of the Royal Academy and the Mage Tower.
Life here was quieter, cleaner, and magically shielded. Security was tighter, handled by the mid-level military police and patrols of junior Magicians of the Arcane Guard.
At the very center, contained within its own set of shimmering, magically reinforced walls, was the Central District. This was the seat of power: the Royal Palace, the High Temple, the Treasury, and two monolithic buildings that dominated the skyline.
The Ministry of Military Affairs, or the Iron Citadel, and the Ministry of Royal Intelligence, or the Whispering Spire.
The Central District was a nexus of power and paranoia. Its security was absolute. Every twenty feet, a stone golem, a relic of ancient defensive magic, stood inert but ready. The walls hummed with passive shielding spells capable of deflecting siege weaponry.
The patrols here were composed exclusively of veteran Knights Captains and high-tier Magic Knights. No unauthorized magic could be cast, and no weapon could be drawn without an immediate, lethal response from the city's defense systems.
It was within the Iron Citadel, the massive, dark-gray structure built to withstand any assault, that the crisis began.
The main operational floor of the Military Intelligence Department (MID) was usually a model of calculated calm. But the Whisperstone on the main desk had just delivered the magical equivalent of a cannonball, and the room was a hive of frantic, low-voiced activity.
At the center of the organized chaos stood Agent Falcon, Major Elara Voss.
Elara was the epitome of a dangerous elegance. She wore the standard MID uniform, tailored to the severe, double-breasted style of the kingdom's past military heroes. A look uncannily similar to a 20th-century German military dress, complete with a high-peaked cap.
The dark navy fabric hugged her figure with sharp precision, emphasized by a wide, polished leather belt. Her hair, a dramatic sheet of jet-black that reached her waist, was usually tied back, but today, a few sharp bangs framed her stunning, ice-blue eyes.
She moved with the liquid grace of a true femme fatale, her movements economical and utterly captivating.
Her code name, Falcon, was apt; she was known to strike fast, from unseen heights, and never missed her target. Her greatest weapon, however, was her supreme acting ability, allowing her to flawlessly infiltrate any level of society, from noble courts to bandit camps.
The medals aligned on her chest shone brightly with her shoulder rank insignia by reflecting the stale lights of the office. Her whisperstone had stopped glowing and she placed it back on her desk.
It fit right into its designated spot beside all the neatly stacked paperwork and the brown wooden picture that was just a picture of her in her uniform. It was a uniform, unadorned with any of the accomplishments today. A reminder of where she began.
With a cold yet urgent look, she got out of her seat and exited her office. She rushed off to a nearby office as she quickly glanced at all the officers working in cubicles. Though this sight should not have been present in a medieval world, this is the norm for them.
She quickly knocked on the office door and heard, "Come in." So she procceded in and closed the door behind her in practiced motion.
"General, the alert from Agent Landon is confirmed. Rowan Blacksun, the Magicknight, has suddenly appeared with five young children on his remote farm."
Elara's voice, usually a velvety purr, was clipped and urgent as she spoke to her direct superior, General Borin Stonehard, a man built like a trebuchet and known for his brute-force tactical mind.
He sat there on his chair with an even larger array of medals and a golden sheen on his rank insignia.
General Stonehard's massive jaw worked on his unlit cigar. "Five? Did you say five, Major?" He paused and thought for a second before a spark flashed in his somewhat ruthless gaze.
"What do you know about them so far?"
"Our asset, Landon, described a domestic scene. Rowan was proud, content. He was carrying one of the girls. The logical conclusion, given our intelligence on his history, is that these are his offspring."
The General slammed a fist onto the magic holographic tactical map, making the projection of the kingdom's supply lines jump.
"Blacksun has been an unexploded ordnance for five years! Now, the moment a kingdom-wide catastrophe hits, he sprouts five children from five different women we've been trying to track down? This is a catastrophic breach of protocol!"
Elara stepped closer, her expression shifting instantly to one of controlled urgency, tailored for her superior. "General, we cannot treat this as an enemy action yet. This is an intelligence failure. The mothers should be Artemis Minos, Nexia Lunecroft, Lina Gray, Yue Ling, and Cheryl Ichor Von Bloodsworth. We didn't realise that they might have been pregnant before leaving."
"Five women, all of whom possess specialized, high-level skills, all of whom have unique security profiles." the general scoffed.
Stonehard turned to Elara and ordered, "Initiate the joint crisis protocol. I want the Royal Intelligence Department (RID) convening here, in the Citadel's war room, within the hour. Tell Director Seraphina it is a Tier-One Rowan Blacksun Protocol."
Elara dashed off, her boots clattering on the stone floor. General Stonehard sat in his chair with a solemn look while smoking on his cigar.
General Stonehard slammed his massive fist down on the table once more, the sound echoing through the tense war room. "Blacksun! That arrogant, oversized farm boy! He was the finest student I ever trained in tactical magic, the only Magicknight who understood that brute force is best when deployed with surgical precision! I swore he'd be my successor as General!"
His face, usually as sturdy as granite, was contorted with genuine, frustrated rage. "Eight years! For eight years he wasted his talent on tilling dirt and baking bread, abandoning his military potential, the greatest potential this kingdom has ever seen, all because of some sentimental nonsense about 'peace' and 'family'! Now look at him! He's using his genius to grow and water plants!"
Elara could hear the General's tirade from outside the room, her expression one of practiced neutrality. She then turned sharply to a Junior Officer standing by the communications console.
"Major Voss to RID liaison," she commanded, her voice crisp. "Priority transmission. Encrypted, Level Theta. Inform Director Seraphina that the ex 3rd commander, Rowan Blacksun, is possibly in possession of five of his potential biological offspring. The general has convened an emergency meeting in the war room."