In the far west, the Kingdom of Fraoshieval:

  Nenda awoke.

  She was lying facedown in the damp grass, and her hands felt the tangle of interwoven stems on the ground.

  She stood, disturbing the droplets of water that had collected on the plants as her limbs brushed through the undergrowth.

  The sun was rising, and the sky was a grayish blue, still watery from an earlier rain. Light shining through leaves illuminated a forest surrounded by a light mist, and footprints on the ground leading towards Nenda. Drops of blood led the same direction next to the footsteps, ending in a splatter of blood on the ground.

  Nenda stretched her arms, feeling slightly sluggish, but began retracing the footprints, hoping to find an explanation for her situation further along the way.

  Suddenly, a foreboding notion suffused her mind and body, and she quickly hid in the brush.

  Only seconds later, a man dressed fully in dark gray, with a mask, hood, and gloves covering all but his eyes ran past, moving towards where Nenda had awoken.

  She considered, then ran forward quickly further towards where the man had come from, being careful to step only where she would not leave traces, and hid again. She watched, waiting for the man to return and give up more knowledge of the circumstances unwittingly.

  The man approached again in a hurry, a look of worry and urgency in his eyes. He jumped up against a tree only a short distance from where Nenda lay, and jumped off of it upwards to the tops of the trees above.

  Nenda waited until the slight creaking from his steps on the branches faded into the distance, then replicated his ascent.

  The tree she landed on was typical besides a branch, broken off at the stem. Dropping down slightly and looking more closely, she saw a mark on the bottom of the stump pointing forward.

  She looked in the direction that the branch would have stretched, were it not crippled, and noticed another tree directly in its path, with a branch broken off just as it was on this one.

  She leapt over to the second tree, and saw that it, too, pointed to another crippled tree.

  Leaping to that one as well, she found what she had come to expect and began following the hidden path left in the treetops.

  She readied herself for the chance of discovery, prepared to dive into the deeper parts of the forest with any provocation, but none found her.

  The light fog revealed an elegant castle in the distance as she moved, eventually resolving into a central palace surrounded by smaller buildings, all enclosed within a stone wall. The base of the palace itself was stone, with wood and plaster walls higher above and curving roofs at every floor and window. It was somewhat awe-inspiring.

  By the gate, the man in gray was arguing with two armored soldiers. They continuously shook their heads, denying him, and he was gesturing again and again, more agitated each time.

  Nenda landed in the last tree before the clearing, and crouched, watching until she noticed a section of the wall with no observers for the moment.

  She dropped backwards, off of the tree, and prowled through the trees like a shadow until she came to the unguarded portion of the wall.

  The wall was larger than a man, large enough to delay any typical potential intruders from climbing it long enough for the watching guards to discover them, but it was not so large as to prevent one such as Nenda from leaping overtop the stone in one motion, and she did so, bypassing it easily.

  She ran forward, away from the guarded wall, evading anyone roaming the area within until she reached the central castle.

  She noted guards at the doors, watching the typical entrances, so she peered carefully at the palace until she noted balconies on the sides on each floor above the first, allowing easy access. The top was the least likely to be inhabited, so she resolved to enter the building there.

  She jumped off of another building, landing on the balcony of the second floor, before moving upward again and catching herself on the windowsills that broke up the plaster walls every jump.

  At the top, she landed on the balcony, and eased open the door slightly to ensure that there were no inhabitants to surprise her if she were to enter. She opened the door fully once she had confirmed her safety, and stepped inside.

  Wooden beams supported the walls, with sections of plaster making up the rest of it in between the wood. It was strangely unfurnished, and, across from the door leading outside, there was a paper divider, as well as another to the side.

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  Nenda opened the sliding paper wall facing furthest inside and, quietly, stepped onto the balcony overlooking the central part of the palace.

  Voices echoed throughout the atrium that was presented to her, and she crept forward carefully, watching to ensure her continued concealment.

  Seeing no person near to discover her, she peered over the edge, and listened to the speaking closely.

  At the base of the first floor, there was a rectangular table, with seven people in ornamented robes of duotone colours, seated, a man in deep red and black at the head of the table.

  A man in yellow and green was speaking. "We are not yet prepared to begin the war in earnest, nor are the other players of this game. The war is merely a face, for now. We send soldiers to harass a town in Osmia and our outskirt villages are inconvenienced in return. We cannot escalate unless we are given more time to gather our strength."

  A woman in blue and purple spoke. "Our allies are perhaps even less prepared than we are, as well. You are correct, Lord Steward. More time is needed, for both us and those with us. However, we must also consider the cost. At the same time, our enemies grow strong in our delay."

  The man in red and black spoke. "Lord Stargazer. How significant are the actions of the Convergences lately?"

  The Lord Stargazer, dressed in purple with golden patterning, responded. "They are displaying the most unusual signs I have seen in my period as a Stargazer, Warlord. The degree to which they display themselves is immense. The threads of fate weigh perhaps even more heavily on this time than recorded during the time of the Catalysts themselves five hundred years ago."

  The table, stunned, erupted into impassioned discussion, as the Warlord sat quietly, pondering. Eventually, he raised a hand to quiet the lords, preparing to speak again.

  The table stilled, and he spoke. "This is a momentous time, then. We cannot afford to sit and watch fate pass us by. We are a prouder nation than that."

  The leaders nodded, and the Warlord turned to the Lord Steward. "How long will it take to contrive food and the other necessary provisions for extended war?"

  "With unrestricted control of supplies given to me? I could prepare this nation for a war of seven years in only months. Perhaps in no more time than the second quarter of a year."

  A man in a blue and green robe began to speak. "As the Grand Clerk, I have the tools at my disposal to encourage important figures in our cities to produce the necessary supplies even earlier, were I to work together with the Lord Steward. Provided, of course, that the tax I had presented to this council only a year past is established."

  "You will have it." Granted the Warlord. "Grand Judge, Haunt. You have begun the weeding out of the traitors?"

  A woman in a blue and white robe, and another figure, this one in a black and white robe, but wearing a hood to cover their face, turned to the Warlord.

  "Yes, Warlord. It has begun, and their just punishments are forthcoming." Replied the Grand Judge, while the Haunt simply nodded.

  "Good. Grand Envoy?" The Warlord said, turning to the woman in the blue and purple robe. "Inform our allies of our deadline to begin the war in earnest. Perhaps a year. Promise them aid in certain manners if they are to meet it, and severance from our aid if they fail."

  "It will be done."

  Suddenly, the main door burst open, and the man in gray clothing ran in. He bowed apologetically to the table, then rushed over to the Haunt and whispered in their ear.

  That... isn't good. I should get out of here, now.

  Nenda drew back, leaving the balcony, and opened the door to the outside balcony, before the Haunt suddenly crested the balcony, as if from a jump, and landed shortly behind Nenda.

  She turned in shock and fear from her sudden appearance as the Haunt's hand moved, and a knife flashed, whistling through the air towards Nenda. She stumbled backwards off the balcony as the knife shallowly grazed the side of her neck.

  Plummeting downwards, she fell freely before managing to catch herself on the balcony of the second floor below. She righted herself, before swaying forward and dropping to the ground just in front of the stone base of the palace.

  Behind her, the main door of the castle opened, the man in gray standing there, moving towards her, and the Haunt stepped onto the balcony above, watching Nenda cryptically.

  Nenda ran, leaping over the outer wall, but the man in gray did the same easily.

  She ran into the forest, the man in gray only ever a few steps behind. He drew his blade, and a transparent green liquid began dripping off of it, burning the ground wherever it fell.

  Nenda raised her hands, making a pulling motion in the air, and the fog seemed to deepen, rolling in.

  The man in gray hesitated for a moment as the fog continued to become evermore heavy, until he could no longer see beyond a few feet.

  He stood, watching around him for movement, and turned, suddenly sensing an attack from behind.

  Nenda jumped forward, striking at his ribs, but the sword moved to block, and the green liquid tore at the skin on her hand, damaging it.

  She jumped backwards, holding her hand in pain, trying to devise a plan to prevail. She fabricated an idea, before preparing her abilities again, and jumped forward.

  Seeing a figure outlined in the mist, the man in gray attacked. As his sword moved to cut the figure, though, it parted as if it were a cloud, and he turned in surprise as, from behind, Nenda aimed to punch him with her healthy fist.

  The fist collided with the side of his body just below his ribs, and he was hurled backwards, holding his side in pain before he caught himself on a tree.

  He watched Nenda for a moment, anger and determination showing themselves in his eyes, before he raised his sword.

  She waited for his approach, but instead of moving forward, he swung his blade in place, and a wave of the transparent greenish liquid was thrown towards her.

  She quickly turned, moving sidways to dodge, but some of the attack hit its mark, and her robe began to crumble, some of her skin following.

  Fortunately, the robe had taken the worst of the attack, but it still hurt her. Nenda shook herself, then dashed forward, knowing that she had to close the distance quickly now.

  She jumped, aiming herself forward, and a funnel of mist circled around her feet and shoved, moving her forward at a blinding speed.

  He lifted his sword to block, but Nenda kicked it away with her shoe, before punching him in the throat.

  He stumbled backwards, struggling to hold his sword up, and she feinted a punch before turning and firing a kick.

  It collided with his head, and he fell, neck broken.

  Nenda looked at his sword, which had faded, becoming an average blade.

  She positioned the man's body in a calmer pose, before leaving, the blade planted point in the ground above his head as a sign of respect, before she left.

  She walked away, robe damaged, hurt skin, but the victor, and the mist faded.