Captain Winter’s office, dimly lit by the first rays of dawn sneaking through the open balcony door like a chill breeze, was emptier than it had ever been despite the presence of five men. Two entrenched firmly in the past saw moments that could have been different and so changed the world. Two look to the future, one with hope and one without. And one stood on the deck of a boat a hundred miles away, swaying uneasily.

The door opened, and four heads turned, eyes fixing on the very present pageboy holding a rolled scroll.

“Old fashioned,” murmured the mage.

“He writes neatly for a despot,” observed Jaiden, reading over the letter writer’s shoulder a thousand miles away and a week before.

The King stood, accepting the letter as one might a rotten fruit, holding it gingerly away from himself. “Thank you Mereditt. That will be all.”

The boy bowed and left.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“I do not suppose we could pay him,” the king dropped the letter on the desk.

“You did.”

Thorne touched the man’s shoulder. “Today, Jaiden.” He sighed, “If only riches was his goal.”

Eliot Winter stood. "Majesty, I request--"

“No, Eliot.” Keagan said weakly. “There is no need, surely.”

Zaphar picked up the letter, breaking the seal. He read it, age caught up to him, and he sank into a chair an old man. “War.”

Keagan recovered first, standing tall. “So be it. At least our queen is safe.”

Thorne nodded. “The locket should absorb her chaos, protecting her from gathering too much. Once she learns how to use it, she’ll be unstoppable.”

“Maybe she’ll come save us,” Jaiden smiled brightly.

Thorne patted his back with a weary chuckle. “There’s a thought. The families will follow her if she returns to claim the throne.”

“I only hope Vior’s chaos mages are willing to teach her.” Zaphar covered his face. “Our lives in the hands of a seventeen-year-old girl.”

Keagan looked across at the captain. “Was that your plan?”

Eliot Winter’s expression could have burned through a lesser man than the king. “My plan was for her to survive.”

Zaphar straightened. “For once, we are in agreement. This war is ours to fight.”

Eliot offered a hand to the mage, forcing him to rise. “I only hope our descendants will say of us that we were brave.”

Five bachelors stared at the scroll on the desk.

“How much time do we have?”