The dimly lit war tent buzzed with low murmurs as Alexander studied the large map across the table before him. Small wooden markers represented troop positions, supply lines, and key targets of the Rudhiran tribe. His generals flanked him, each offering their opinions on the next strike.

"Press them here," one said, pointing to a narrow valley. "They'll have no choice but to retreat or surrender. Either way, we can cut off their escape."

Alexander nodded absentmindedly, his piercing gaze locked on the map. The Rudhiran tribe had been elusive, slipping away at the last moment every time he cornered them. He was determined to end their meddling once and for all.

The tent flap snapped open, admitting a gust of cold air and a harried messenger. The man stepped inside, his face pale and damp with sweat. “My lord,” he said, bowing deeply. “I bring urgent news from Bothal.”

Alexander’s head shot up, his icy blue eyes narrowing. “Speak.”

The messenger gulped, feeling the weight of the moment settle heavily in the air. “The Mariyans have escalated. There have been skirmishes near Bothal. They’ve begun direct action against our forces.”

The generals exchanged uneasy glances, and a heavy silence filled the place. For a moment, Alexander didn’t move, his face betraying nothing. Then, in a flash, his fist slammed onto the table, scattering the wooden markers. The sound reverberated like thunder.

“Damn them!” he roared, his voice sharp enough to make the messenger flinch. “Those cowards have been content to manipulate from the shadows, and now they dare to take the field?”

“My lord,” one of the generals ventured cautiously, “if the Mariyans are committing troops to Bothal, it could mean they’re stretched thin. We might have an opportunity—”

“Opportunity?” Alexander cut him off, his voice cold and cutting. “This is no opportunity. This is a ploy to split my forces and weaken us. They know I’m closing in on the Rudhiran tribe and want to distract me. Divide my attention, spread my men thin—classic Mariyan strategy.”

He began to pace, his hands clenched behind his back. “This changes everything,” he muttered. “I can’t commit fully to crushing the Rudhirans if Bothal is at risk. But if I pull back from the Rudhirans now, they’ll regroup and become even more of a nuisance.”

The room remained silent, his generals waiting for his next command. Alexander stopped pacing and turned to face them, his countenance hard as steel.

“Send reinforcements to Bothal,” Alexander ordered assertively. “Enough to hold the line, but not so many that the Rudhirans think we’re pulling back. I want eyes on Mariyan movements—every last one of them. If they make a mistake, I want to know about it before they do.”

He glared at the map, his mind already working to adjust his strategy. “And summon the other commanders. If the Mariyans want a fight, they’ll get one. But we’ll dictate the terms—not them.”

The generals bowed and began swiftly carrying out his orders, their energy shifting as they sprang into action. Alexander stayed rooted at the table, staring at the scattered markers, his jaw tight with frustration. He reached out to reset the markers, returning the pieces to their rightful positions, when the flap opened again. Another messenger entered, his face grim.

“My lord,” the man began, hesitating, “there’s more. Word has reached us that Sorenputhra may also be mobilizing. We don’t yet know their target, but—”

Alexander’s head snapped up, his expression thunderous. “Sorenputhra?” he repeated, incredulous. For a moment, he could only stare at the messenger, the news hitting him like a physical blow. “They’re our allies. Prince Louis Ruthford is betrothed to my sister Elara. Why would they make a move now?”

The messenger looked down, clearly unnerved by the tension in the room. “We... we don’t have enough information yet, my lord. Only that their troops have been seen mobilizing near Varaxes.”

Alexander’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of the table. He felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. If Sorenputhra was preparing for war, the political implications alone could send the region spiraling into chaos.

He exhaled sharply and straightened his resolve hardening. “Curtis Underwood,” he said, turning to one of the remaining generals. “Send him to Varaxes immediately. He has a good rapport with General Varaxes. If anyone can get answers from Sorenputhra and stabilize the situation, it’s him.”

One of his generals hesitated. “Do you think Sorenputhra would break their alliance, my lord? They’ve been steadfast for years.”

Alexander’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know, and I don’t intend to speculate until Curtis brings me answers. But we can’t afford to take chances. If Sorenputhra is shifting its allegiance or positioning itself for conflict, I want to know why—and I want to know now.”

The tent fell silent as the gravity of the situation sank in. Alexander returned his gaze to the map, his thoughts a storm of contingencies and questions.

“This war just got far more complicated,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “And we’re running out of allies we can trust.”

The following day, Linus woke with a renewed sense of purpose. The previous night's events had only fueled his determination to uncover the truth and secure the Phoenix Blade. As dawn broke over Thornfield, he wasted no time summoning Marcus to his study.

Linus spread a large piece of parchment on his desk, cautiously sketching the intricate design he had glimpsed on the woman's mask. The pattern was unlike anything he had seen before—a blend of ancient symbols and arcane runes that hinted at a deeper, hidden meaning. His hand moved meticulously, capturing every detail, knowing that even the slightest inaccuracy could lead to a dead end.

When Marcus arrived, Linus handed him the completed drawing. "I need you to ask about this design discreetly," Linus instructed calmly. "See if anyone recognizes it or knows its origin. Start with our usual contacts, but don't limit yourself."

Marcus examined the sketch, his eyes narrowing as he studied the unfamiliar symbols. He nodded. "Understood, Master Linus. I'll begin my inquiries immediately."

Before leaving, Marcus offered a brief update. "I delivered the messages to Goodman's Produce as you instructed. Everything is in motion."

A satisfied smile tugged at Linus's lips. "Good. The bait is set," he murmured. "Now, we wait to see if the Prince takes it."

As Marcus departed to begin his investigation, Linus turned his attention to the partial map he had retrieved from the spy's hiding place. He carefully unfolded it, studying the faded lines and cryptic markings. Deciding it was too valuable to risk losing, he took out another piece of parchment and meticulously sketched a precise copy, creating a backup to examine more closely.

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With the sketch complete, Linus laid it beside a detailed map of Thornfield, cross-referencing the marked locations he had seen the previous night. The mine was a significant site, but other places also stood out—an old ruin to the north, the two temples, and several prominent buildings scattered throughout the town. Each location seemed to hold its own secrets, and he needed to figure out what connected them.

As he scrutinized the maps, the sound of the door opening interrupted his thoughts. Linus turned sharply, barely having time to react, but he maintained his composure. Mara stood in the doorway, her expression a mix of urgency and concern. She closed the door behind her, the decisive click echoing in the hallway.

"Princess," Linus greeted, masking any hint of suspicion. "What brings you here so early?"

Mara wasted no time, getting straight to the point. "There was a commotion last night, Linus. The city is in an uproar, and the city guards are on edge. They believe an unchanneled light mage was involved in a serious incident."

Linus’s brow furrowed, surprise flickering briefly across his face—not at the mention of the unrest, but at the mention of the unchanneled mage. “An unchanneled light mage? That’s... unusual. What exactly happened?”

Linus’s mind raced as Mara spoke, though he remained composed. He hadn’t expected the person responsible for throwing the orb to be an unchanneled light mage. This complicated matters far more than he had anticipated. Who could it have been? The question gnawed at him. He would need to consult Marcus to check for any unusual movements from the priestess. If not, a new player had entered the game—someone powerful enough to wield unchanneled magic. The prospect of such a wildcard sent a spike of tension through him. "This is turning into a serious headache," he thought.

Mara took a deep breath, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. "There was a confrontation with a city guard. He was killed almost instantly. Another guard witnessed the attack, which is how we have any details at all. The mage managed to escape, and the guards have searched for him since."

Linus leaned back in his chair, his mind quickly processing the information. "A light mage, you say?"

Mara's jaw tightened. "Yes, and what worries me most is that the Phoenix Blade requires a light affinity to unlock its location. If this mage is seeking the blade, we're looking at a much bigger problem."

Linus’s mind churned, even as he kept his tone steady. “The Phoenix Blade... That certainly raises the stakes,” he said, maintaining an air of concern.

"The guards are on high alert," Mara continued firmly. "I've already sent my people to assist in the search, but I was hoping you'd join us at the scene. We need every advantage we can get."

Linus nodded thoughtfully, concealing his satisfaction beneath a mask of seriousness. "Of course, Mara. I'll come with you. If this mage threatens the city, we must address it immediately."

Though the situation was escalating, the fact that the young princess was beginning to rely more heavily on him was precisely the position he had been working toward.

Mara's expression darkened further. "There's more. I've received word from the war front. The Mariyans have decided to make a move. There have been skirmishes near Bothal. This changes everything—Alexander can't fully concentrate on the Rudhiran tribe as planned. Both sides are at a standstill, each waiting for the other to make a mistake."

Linus's eyes narrowed as he absorbed this new development. So, the Mariyans are escalating. Until now, they had been content with causing disruptions through the Rudhiran tribe, stirring chaos from the shadows. But direct action? That marked a significant shift.

"This is intriguing," he said aloud. "It seems the Mariyans are playing a more aggressive game now. If they're forcing Alexander to divide his focus, this could be a disaster, depending on how we handle it."

Mara met his gaze, her own eyes reflecting the uncertainty of the situation. "That's why we need to act swiftly. This unchanneled mage could be a symptom of something larger. We can't afford to lose control of Thornfield, not with everything else unraveling."

Linus nodded. "Understood. Let's address this mage situation first. If we can solve this quickly, it might give us the breathing room we need to deal with the other fronts."

Mara nodded, relief mingling with her tension. "Good. I'll arrange for a carriage. We must move now.".

They exited the manor and went through the town, the streets unusually still in the early morning light. There was a palpable tension in the air that comes when everyone knows something is wrong, but no one dares to speak of it. As Linus and Mara approached the main square, they saw that the city guards had set up a makeshift command post, bustling with activity, as they coordinated the search.

The captain of the guard, a burly man with a stern, no-nonsense demeanor, spotted them and quickly approached. "Princess Mara, Master Linus," he said, nodding respectfully. "We have men combing through the town and scouring the surrounding areas, but so far, there’s been no trace of the light mage."

"Any leads on where he might have gone?" Mara inquired, her curiosity piqued.

"None yet," the captain admitted, his jaw tightening in frustration. "We’re following every possible lead. The guards are questioning witnesses, and we've ordered searches of every hidden corner and alleyway. But it's as if he vanished into thin air."

The captain’s eyes swept over the gathered guards as he pressed on, his authority palpable in the tense air. "We need to find him before he can cause more trouble. Everyone, stay alert. We can't afford to let him slip through our fingers."

Linus decided to retrace his steps from the night before. The absence of clear answers gnawed at him, and the memory of the third spy's interference, who now might be the unchanneled light mage, haunted his thoughts. How had he been able to precisely track him, even when he was cloaked in shadows at the height of his power? It didn't make sense, and the lack of understanding irritated him.

Breaking away from the command post, Linus slipped into the alleyways that had served as his battleground the previous night. The sun began rising, casting long, angled shadows over the cobblestones, but the area still bore the lingering chill of darkness. He moved silently, retracing his moves step by step, trying to recall the event.

As he approached the spot where the first light orb had been thrown, he crouched down, meticulously scanning the area. He glanced at the walls, the roads, and even the narrow cracks between the bricks. His mind replayed the scene, trying to reconstruct it: the flash, the whistle, the sudden light that had forced him to break cover. Something about that whistle bothered him. It hadn't been loud, but it had been clear, intentional, and timed perfectly.

Standing up, Linus let his eyes wander, searching for a vantage point. He glanced at the nearby rooftops, imagining where a third spy might have been positioned. There, across the alley, was a narrow ledge of a building that overlooked the entire scene. A strategic spot, perfect for a lookout. His gaze narrowed, and he decided to get a closer look.

With a quick leap, he hoisted himself onto the wall, his hands finding purchase on the cracks and ledges. He quickly climbed, his actions fluid, until he reached the narrow ledge. It was wide enough for someone to stand or crouch, hidden from the casual observer below.

From up here, the entire alley came into view—a perfect vantage point for someone keeping watch. His eyes scanned the ledge acutely, and that’s when he noticed it: a faint shimmer, almost invisible to the naked eye, dancing along the edge of the stone.

He reached out, and his fingers brushed against a small, smooth object embedded within the wall. It was cold to the touch and pulsed faintly as if alive with its rhythm. Linus leaned closer, scrutinizing it. The object was a tiny crystal, glowing with a barely perceptible light—an enchantment. He recognized it immediately: a magical sensor designed to detect movement and disturbances in the environment, even those hidden by shadow magic.

A surge of understanding hit him. The third spy hadn’t just been watching—he’d been listening, feeling for subtle shifts in the air, sensing any movement within his range. The crystal must have been enchanted to react to the slightest disruption, triggering a silent alert. The whistle he had heard last night wasn’t just a random signal—it was a response, a calculated warning to the spies below that something had disturbed the field.

Linus pried the crystal from the wall, studying it with keen interest. The magic was intricate, and the runes etched into its surface were almost invisible but there. It was a simple yet effective enchantment—low-powered, unobtrusive, and easy to hide. Whoever had set this up knew exactly what they were doing.

A small smile played on Linus’s lips. Clever, he thought, admiring the craftsmanship. It had been a good trick, and it explained how they had managed to sense him despite his shadow cloak.

He slipped the crystal into his pocket, considering his next move. This discovery changed things. The spies weren’t just ordinary agents—they had resources, knowledge, and, most importantly, someone who understood how to outmaneuver someone like him. That meant they were dangerous.

Linus climbed down from the ledge, the magical sensor safely stowed away. As his feet touched the ground, he glanced back at the alley, replaying the events of last night’s chase. It was clear now—the spies had planted the crystal, anticipating that someone, likely guards or other tailing forces, would try to follow them after their rendezvous at the inn.