The Covenant of Mutual Aid had been ratified beneath the spreading branches of a majestic oak, finalized with solemn vows and aspirations that burned bright in the hearts of those present. Now, that foundational agreement faced its first significant trial, not through the drums of war or the hollow ache of famine, but through the mundane, persistent demands of daily survival. Promises reveal their true value not in the moment of their articulation, but in the unwavering consistency with which they are honored.
Three weeks had passed since the historic assembly when a messenger galloped into Bloodstone Manor just as the sun began to crest the horizon. His mount was drenched in sweat and flecked with white foam, a testament to a rider who had pushed forward without pausing for rest. The man dismounted and bowed deeply before Zephyir and Seraphyne, his posture signaling the urgency of his mission.
