Return of the General's Daughter

"Gray? Snow?" Lara dropped into a crouch, her lips curving into a rare smile as the two wolves pressed against her, tails flicking. She stroked their fur, comforted by their presence. "Where have you been hiding since yesterday?"

They whimpered softly, as though scolding her for doubting them. Gray nudged Snow, and the she-wolf lifted her proud head. Around her neck, camouflaged and nearly lost in her white fur, was tied a roll of parchment.

Lara's eyes widened. "A message? So that's why the two of you vanished. You made me worry." She untied the scroll swiftly, her heart already tightening in anticipation. "Who could have sent this…?"

Unrolling the parchment, she read the short, urgent warning:

Three days from now, the Zuran Fleet will arrive. Be careful. —Jethru

Lara's breath caught. Folding the message quickly, she brushed her hand over the wolves' heads. "You've done well. This is no ordinary letter—it may change everything."

The two wolves stood tall, eyes gleaming with pride, their muzzles lifted toward the heavens as though they too understood the gravity of their task.

Without hesitation, Lara went to find Alaric. She entered his tent, rousing him from sleep. He sat up groggily, his expression sour with fatigue, but the moment he realized it was her, his demeanor shifted. He snatched up his robe and stepped outside with her, eyes narrowing in the dim firelight.

"What is it?" His tone was deep and alluring, but underneath lay a note of concern.

Lara handed him the scroll. Her voice was low, steady, though her pulse was racing."My master has sent word. The Zuran Fleet will arrive in three days. He warned us to be cautious."

Alaric's brows furrowed as he read the short scroll. Though the words were few, they carried the weight of a storm. His eyes sharpened, the drowsiness of sleep falling away instantly.

"The Zuran Fleet…" he murmured, rolling the parchment tightly in his fist. His voice was calm, but Lara saw how his jaw tensed, how the lines around his mouth deepened.

"Three days," Lara repeated quietly, her gaze steady. "My master does not send warnings lightly."

For a moment, Alaric said nothing, pacing just outside the tent flap. The night air was crisp, filled only with the occasional crackle of dying embers from the campfires. Finally, he turned to her, his tone low but edged with urgency.

"If the Zurans are truly coming, we cannot stay idle. They would not move their fleet unless they had a purpose—either conquest or capture. And with Azul on our route…" He exhaled sharply. "We will be walking straight into their jaws."

Lara's hand absently brushed the fur of Snow, who lingered at her side, watching Alaric with intelligent eyes. "Then what do you suggest? Should we avoid Azul?"

"No." His answer was immediate, though his tone was heavy. "Azul has resources, allies we cannot afford to lose. If we turn away now, we lose their support—and the Zurans will take them without a fight. The people there… they do not even know what is coming."

The weight of his words pressed between them. Lara studied him carefully. Alaric had always been stern, disciplined, but in this moment, she caught a flicker of something more—responsibility, yes, but also dread. He was a man who carried others' lives on his shoulders.

"Then we must warn the Aragon," Lara said finally. "And prepare."

Alaric nodded once. His voice, when he called, was sharp and commanding. "Guards, wake the captains. Assemble the council at the fire pit. Now."

The stillness of the night was shattered. Torches were lit, voices stirred, and the quiet camp roused like a sleeping beast forced awake. Men and women, some groggy and rubbing their eyes, gathered with tense expressions. Whispers spread quickly—words like Zuran and fleet hissed through the air like sparks threatening to ignite panic.

Lara stood a little apart, Pamela still asleep inside the tent, her small figure wrapped in blankets. Lara felt an urge to shield her from the news, from the weight of what was to come. But deep inside, she knew that the girl was no stranger to fear—and no stranger to loss.

At the fire pit, the generals and commanders assembled. Alaric stood tall, the parchment in his hand, his voice carrying over the hushed murmurs."A message has arrived from a trusted source. The Zuran Fleet will reach the shores of the East Coast in three days."

A ripple of alarm surged through the crowd. Some gasped, others cursed under their breath. The captains exchanged grim looks.

Alaric raised his hand to silence them. His eyes gleamed with iron. "This is no rumor. We prepare now. We strengthen defenses, ration supplies, and send word to Azul. If the Zurans intend war, they will not find us unready."

Lara watched him as he spoke, her mind turning. He commands with certainty, but I see it in him—he is calculating, weighing lives against strategy. How far will he go to protect his cause?

One of the younger captains broke the silence, his voice tight with fear. "If the Zurans come with their fleet… we cannot withstand them, not on open waters. Should we not retreat inland, scatter into the hills?"

Alaric's eyes hardened, and for a moment, the firelight cast his face in stark shadows. "If we scatter, we are prey. The Zurans will hunt us down one by one. But if we stand together, with Azul at our side, we stand a chance."

The murmurs grew louder, some voices in agreement, others fearful. Lara stepped forward then, her presence cutting through the tension. Her voice was softer than Alaric's, yet it carried. "Fear will only serve the Zurans. Remember this: they thrive on division. If you waver now, you hand them victory before the battle begins."

Her words seemed to steady some of the men, their spines straightening. The firelight flickered in their eyes, determination replacing panic, if only faintly.

Alaric glanced at her, a faint spark of approval in his gaze. He turned back to the crowd. "You have your orders. Dawn is not far—by then, preparations must begin. Dismissed."

The council dispersed, though unease still lingered in the air like smoke. Lara lingered by the fire, her thoughts restless.

Three days. Just three. The world can change in that time.

At her side, Gray and Snow pressed closer, their eyes glinting as though they too felt the storm on the horizon.