The Summoning

In the heart of the sprawling Seilian palace, King Alaric sat upon his throne, his brow furrowed with worry as he listened to the grim tidings brought before him. His most trusted advisor stood at his side, a grim expression etched upon his weathered features as he delivered the news.

"Your Majesty," the advisor began, his voice trembling with urgency, "it grieves me to inform you that Commander Siel has fallen in battle. The Xeneth troops have emerged victorious, and their leader, a woman of great skill and cunning, now stands poised to lead her forces against us."

King Alaric felt a chill run down his spine at the news, a cold dread settling in the pit of his stomach. Commander Siel had been one of his most trusted generals, a man of unrivaled skill and loyalty, and to hear of his demise sent shockwaves through the kingdom.

"Send for General Luther," King Alaric commanded, his voice cold and commanding. "I will not allow this upstart Xeneth leader to threaten our borders unchecked. General Luther will go forth and negotiate a peace treaty with the Xeneth empire, lest we find ourselves embroiled in a war we cannot win."

As the advisor hastened to carry out his king's bidding, King Alaric felt a sense of unease settle over him like a shroud. General Luther was a man of great power and influence, a warrior whose mere presence struck fear into the hearts of his enemies. But he was also a man of dark and unpredictable temperament, his loyalty to the crown tempered by his own inscrutable motives.

It was not long before General Luther arrived, his presence commanding and imposing as he strode into the throne room with a cold, dominating aura. His black hair fell in sleek waves around his shoulders, his piercing green eyes alight with an inner fire that seemed to burn with unnatural intensity.

"You summoned me, Your Majesty?" General Luther asked, his voice low and gravelly.

King Alaric nodded, his expression grave. "Commander Siel has fallen in battle," he explained, wasting no time in getting to the heart of the matter. "The Xeneth troops have emerged victorious, and their leader now threatens our borders. I need you to go forth and negotiate a peace treaty with the Xeneth empire, lest we find ourselves embroiled in a war we cannot win."

General Luther's lips curled into a cold smile at the king's words, his eyes gleaming with a hunger for power and conquest. "Fear not, Your Majesty," he assured, his voice dripping with confidence. "I will deal with this Xeneth upstart swiftly and decisively. They will rue the day they dared to challenge the might of Seil."

With a flick of his wrist, General Luther turned on his heel and strode from the throne room, his cloak billowing behind him like the wings of a dark angel. King Alaric watched him go, a sense of unease gnawing at his heart.

He knew that General Luther was a man of great skill and cunning, a warrior without equal on the battlefield. But he was also a man of dark and unpredictable temperament, his loyalty to the crown tempered by his own inscrutable motives.

As he pondered the implications of his decision, King Alaric could only hope that General Luther would succeed in his mission, and that peace would be restored to the realm once more. But deep down, he feared that the price of such peace would be far greater than any of them could have ever imagined.