In the quiet and dimly lit room, the flickering candlelight casted long, dancing shadows across the worn and weathered map of Jugdral laid out across the wooden table. Scathach's purple eyes, normally bright and full of determination, now held a somber note as he traced the routes and territories with a trembling hand.

He had just received the grievous news: a trusted ally had fallen in battle. The pain of loss was a familiar companion by now, but it never got easier. Each name that was added to the list of the fallen was another piece of his heart that shattered.

He thought of his sister, Larcei, and his cousin, Shannan, sleeping in the adjacent rooms. He thought of how he would have to break the news to them come morning. The weight of his responsibility, his duty, felt unbearably heavy.