After the messenger delivered the news to the Silver Tower, the King gathered his closest companions in the council hall. Shadows trembled in the torchlight as they spoke in hushed, urgent tones, weighing their next steps. The loss of the talisman struck them like a wound, and every moment felt precious. At last, Mirellith, the sorceress, rose from her seat—her eyes gleaming with quiet resolve. She whispered an ancient incantation, and a raven emerged from the swirling veil of her magic. With a beat of its dark wings, it soared into the night sky. Through the creature’s eyes, Mirellith reached across forests and mountains, searching tirelessly for the thief who dared steal their sacred relic. The hunt had begun on every front.
