In the dimly lit chambers, Irene and the remaining members of her family busily prepared for their escape.
The heavy air was filled with a mixture of determination and trepidation, knowing that their lives depended on a successful departure.
They gathered their valuables, ensuring that they had enough money to sustain them in the uncertain days ahead.
Money was counted and placed securely in pouches, while precious heirlooms and mementos were carefully wrapped and stowed away.
Every item held significance, a tangible reminder of the life they were leaving behind.
Food provisions were packed meticulously, their tasteless but nourishing nature serving as a stark contrast to the rich feasts they once enjoyed.
Clothes were chosen with practicality in mind.
Luxurious fabrics were forsaken for sturdy, durable garments that could withstand the rigors of travel.
Layers were added to combat the unpredictable weather that awaited them outside the confines of their opulent home.
Among their most valuable assets were the loyal guards who had been cultivated and trained from childhood.
They stood by their family's side, ready to defend and even sacrifice their life in any perilous situation.
As they made their final preparations, a bittersweet realization settled upon them.
The remaining states and territories they once held, symbols of their former power and influence, were discarded as insignificant burdens.
In this fight for survival, their lives took precedence over any land or title.
The decision was made, and with resolve in their hearts, Irene and her family into the carriage.
With one last glance at the grandeur they once called home, they set forth.
...
As the days turned into weeks, Irene and her family continued their arduous journey.
The air was thick with exhaustion, their weary bodies longing for respite.
And then, miraculously, a glimmer of hope —her two brothers, Edward and Edgar, woke up from their unconscious state.
The reason behind their awakening was none other than the potion their father had obtained from City Berunn, the only city connected to the central continent.
Though the potion was scarce, their father had managed to secure a few vials, and it was this precious elixir that breathed life back into Edward and Edgar.
The sight of their brothers regaining consciousness was a beacon of light in the midst of hardship.
Days turned into nights, and nights turned into days as they pressed forward.
Finally, the sprawling City of Moonshadow came into view.
Its grandeur and vibrancy stood in stark contrast to the war-torn lands they had left behind.
What truly caught their attention was the vast expanse of paddy fields that stretched before them—an unexpected sight in this unfamiliar territory.
As they approached the city gates, they were taken aback by the sight of a long line of people waiting patiently.
The line was filled with refugees like themselves, individuals who had sought peace from the horrors of war.
They blended seamlessly into the line, their disheveled appearance and weariness camouflaging their true identity.
Irene and her family, relieved by the lack of attention, joined the line like the rest, eager to enter the city and find sanctuary inside the walls.
Despite the hardships they had endured, they were filled with cautious optimism.
They held tightly to the hope that Moonshadow, under the rule of Count Maximus, would offer them the safety and stability they desperately sought.
The City of Moonshadow loomed large before them, offering a glimmer of solace in their turbulent journey.
...
As Irene and her family inched closer to the front of the line, anticipation mingled with nervousness.
Finally, it was their turn to face the guard stationed at the gate.
The guard's stern expression softened slightly as he observed the weary condition that they were in.
"Names," he requested, his voice tinged with authority.
One by one, Irene's family members stepped forward and stated their names. "Irene Emberwood," she said, her voice steady.
"Edward Emberwood," her older brother.
"Edgar Emberwood," her younger brother.
The mention of their shared surname caught the guard's attention.
He knew that bearing a surname was a privilege reserved for the noble class.
His duty required him to report any such occurrence to the higher-ups, ensuring the proper protocols were followed.
Without a word, the guard reached into his pocket and retrieved a slip of paper.
With a quill in hand, he swiftly wrote something on the paper, sealing the message with ink.
As he finished, the slip burned like a small flame.
The flames danced and flickered, transforming the written message into ethereal wisps of smoke.
But this was no ordinary paper; it was a magical conduit, carrying the guard's report to the higher authorities within the city.
The smoke billowed upwards, its trajectory guided by an unseen force until it reached its intended recipient.
[Shadowscribe (tier 2): A sleek, ebony quill with silver engravings, the Shadowscribe possesses a main body resembling a small, leather-bound journal. Its sugarcane, a delicate parchment, burns instantly upon writing, transferring the message to the main body. The user can read the reports inscribed on the main body at their convenience, receiving information with swiftness and secrecy. Price 300]
...
After a moment's contemplation, the guard motioned to Irene and her family, signaling them to follow.
They were led away to a comfortable lounge area, where they could rest and refresh themselves while they awaited further instructions.
Irene's family settled into the cozy surroundings, weary bodies sinking into plush chairs.
The lounge exuded an air of tranquility, providing a momentary respite from the hardships they had endured during their journey.
The guard, respectful yet vigilant, remained nearby, ready to attend to their needs.
The lounge became a sanctuary, a space where their battered spirits could find solace.
Their tattered garments were incongruous against the backdrop of comfort, but within these walls, they were given a chance to restore their dignity.
...
Maximus sat in his study, reviewing reports and attending to the affairs of his territory.
As he delved into the documents, his steward Gerald approached with a concerned look on his face.
"Lord Maximus, "I have received a report that the Emberwood family has arrived in the city," Gerald reported.
Maximus paused, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected news.
The Emberwoods were the family of his deceased father's dear friend, Count Marcus.
It had been a year since they had last seen each other, and Maximus couldn't help but wonder why they had come to his city now.
"Thank you, Gerald," Maximus replied, his voice tinged with curiosity.
"Have them escorted to one of our guest houses. Ensure they are provided with everything they need for their stay."
Gerald nodded, taking note of the instructions. "Very well, my lord. Shall I inform them of your intention to meet with them?"
Maximus considered for a moment before responding. "Not just yet"
"Let them settle in and rest. I will meet with them at a later date. In the meantime, keep a close eye on their activities and any developments regarding their presence in the city."
ραndαsΝοvεl ƈοm Gerald acknowledged the order, his gaze respectful yet inquisitive. "Understood, my lord. I will personally oversee their arrangements and relay any relevant information to you."
Maximus leaned back in his chair, contemplating the significance of the Emberwood family's arrival.
There must be a reason behind their visit, he thought.
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