Serika rose from the pyre in an instant with her hair igniting into ribbons of flame as her temper flared, but the messenger who burst in fell to his knees, panting, covered in soot and smelling of ozone.
"Sovereign!" he cried, holding up a scroll bound in Windcaller silk. "Urgent report from the high courts of Aerynthia!"
Her brow furrowed as she took the scroll, ripping the seal open with a flick of her finger. Her eyes scanned the contents in silence.
Lines of text. Scattered, frantic reports. Descriptions of a storm that shattered the Sky Temple. A figure wreathed in wind and fire. The Sovereign of Wind was gone. Their shard, taken. Cities have fallen under sudden siege.
Her hands gripped the parchment tightly.
"The invader is here…" she murmured. "And they ruined Aerynthia so quickly we couldn't even react before it was over… How?"
