The servant came inside his tiny room and locked the door. He checked the lock again than picked a candle holder from the wall. Servant moved towards the window, then opened it. Since the breeze was strong at night, he left it partially closed. The man cleared his table infront of the window and put the light in center of table.

Opening the trunk under his bed, he tore a vellum page from the book. He didn’t even bother putting it back in there because he knew finding himself in such appropriate time was going to be near impossible in coming days.

He arranged ink, quill and began to write after spreading the page on table:

Lord Wernh’An,

Thousand bows to you, Lord of Hilcastle, Hand of Great Wutke, Blessed by all elements. Perhaps the scroll I had sent to Hilcastle has already reached in your hands. I know I was full of doubts in it but now I am very sure. Prince Tudor is going to be married to Rikilda Bloudkast. Dylan Bloudkast – his father’s physical features deviate every day. People in here might miss it but a trained spy like me can’t. Not long ago I saw him teleporting. I still may be wrong but you will be able to separate truth from lies at first glance. Wedding preparation begins one day from tomorrow. By the time this scroll reaches there, it would have already begun. Wedding will happen whenever the stars are in proper alignment. You must be present here, my lord.

All hail Great Wutke,

Million Bows to him.

He stopped his quill there. He knew he had written what needed to be said so before anyone could call him, he rolled the vellum into a scroll then tied it with a ribbon. The servant poured melted candle on the ribbon and pressed it with an emblem – clarifying about authenticity of the letter. The spy opened the window and gazed down.

Nobody under.

He took out dried body of a small bird from the drawer in his table. Choosing his left hand, he made a cut on his thumb and allowed the drop of blood to pass through the flame of the candle.

Wax also dropped on the bird along with his blood. He kept on squeezing his finger in order to shed more blood on the bird’s body. It took him a while to see the result. Within his grip, he felt the bird breathing. When it moved he tied the scroll on the raven’s foot.

“Go, fire raven.” He let the raven fly.