Valeria stepped into the command tent, the air inside noticeably warmer than the crisp night air outside. The scent of parchment, wax-sealed letters, and faint traces of old magic clung to the space—remnants of the preparations made for this very moment.
At the center of the tent, resting atop a reinforced wooden table, was the communication sphere.
A polished gem of deep blue, large enough to fit in both hands, resting within an intricately designed metal stand. Thin veins of silver magic pulsed along its surface, barely visible in the dim lighting.
Valeria looked at it with a faint sense of wariness.
She had heard the explanations before—how the artifact connected over long distances, how it linked to its twin within the Marquis' possession through arcane resonance. One of the mages under her command had gone into detail about its functions once, explaining the precise theories behind the spellwork involved.
It had all gone straight over her head.
