The letter arrived sealed with crimson wax—marked not by the royal crest, but something older.
A thorn coiled around a crescent moon.
Frankfurt broke the seal in silence, reading the words slowly. The more he read, the tighter his grip became. When he looked up, his face was unreadable.
> "They want to parley," he said. "A summit between House Eldemar and... the Pale Thorn."
Aaron frowned. "That doesn't make sense. Why would the Thorn request a meeting after trying to kill us in Takoba?"
Frankfurt tossed the letter on the table. "Because they've already decided the outcome. It's not a summit. It's a trap."
---
Later that night, Aaron stood before the map room again—this time not looking for symbols or history, but for opportunity.
He examined the location proposed in the letter: Ravengarde Hall, an abandoned estate at the edge of Hollowmere.
"Too remote," he muttered. "Too exposed. No proper guards. No communication lines. And they know that."
Ashen, sitting nearby and idly sketching with charcoal, looked up. "So… don't go?"
Aaron's eyes narrowed. "No. We go. But not the way they want."
---
🧠 The Plan
Aaron devised it in silence. He didn't tell Frankfurt everything.
Instead, he whispered it only to Ashen—who used his Ash Memory to replay the actions of the courier who delivered the letter. Within the echo of ash, Aaron saw it clearly:
The courier rehearsed his path too perfectly. His uniform was cleaner than a city rat's teeth. And worst of all—his shoes didn't match his region's dust color.
Imposter.
Aaron smiled darkly.
So he gave the courier what he wanted: a message from Lord Pierce, agreeing to bring "the Child of Sky Flame" to Ravengarde Hall in three days.
---
🔥 The Twist
Three days later, under the cover of rain and wind, a convoy of Thorn agents arrived at Ravengarde Hall.
But there was no child.
Only a hollow carriage and a cage filled with burning straw shaped like a person.
The flames exploded into a glyph as the cage was opened—branding each of the Pale Thorn agents with a magical mark. Frankfurt's seal.
---
Back at the Pierce estate, Aaron stood on the western balcony, watching smoke rise far in the distance.
Frankfurt approached, arms crossed.
> "You baited them," he said, not unkindly. "I didn't expect you to move so fast."
Aaron didn't look at him. "They needed to believe they had won. That's when they make mistakes."
Frankfurt paused. "You understand now... the game isn't about strength."
Aaron nodded. "It's about misdirection. Information. Fear."
> "Good," Frankfurt said. "Then you're ready for what comes next."
Aaron turned to him, eyes cold as ash.
> "Let them hunt smoke. I'll give them fire."