Erythro: The Prophecy Unveiled

Below the elevated platform, five empty thrones stood as symbols of the authority and power held within the court. Encircling the grand chamber, the division heads sat in their designated chairs, forming a ring of leaders around the room. The arrival of Erudite Cedric Vale brought a profound silence over the crowd, a collective acknowledgment of the significance of the moment and the decisions that would soon be made.

Cedric, a man of profound intellect, surveyed the gathering with a keen eye. A hushed whisper from the high regent beside him caught his attention: "It seems the Kings have yet to arrive." Cedric nodded in acknowledgment, rising to his feet. In a voice that carried across the room, he announced, "Let us pause for another moment to await the arrival of the Empire's Leaders. Their presence is essential for this critical meeting. I implore you all to maintain your patience and silence for the meantime."

"Those so-called kings," a man beside Ryan muttered, "believe themselves superior simply because of the titles they bear. But let me tell you, we of the Ordinance stand above them. We are the very instruments that enforce the law." Ryan, however, disagreed. "We are not above anyone, kind sir. The laws of this land are designed to uphold equality, regardless of one's social standing." The man scoffed. "Nonsense. You're blinded by your idealism."

As a palpable tension filled the air, the grand double doors creaked open, revealing the imposing figures of the two monarchs. A herald, his voice echoing through the chamber, proclaimed, "Hail the King of Sunaria! Hail the King of Verdantia!" The regents, their faces a mix of anticipation and trepidation, rose to their feet as the kings entered the grand hall. King Alaric Valorhelm of Sunaria led the procession, his face etched with a grim expression. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes, a testament to the sleepless night he had endured.

Behind him, King Ragnar Ironhelm followed with a more relaxed demeanor, a faint smile playing on his lips.The two kings took their seats on their respective thrones, their presence filling the room with an aura of power and authority. With a nod of acknowledgment, they greeted the Erudite, who in turn bowed respectfully before them.

A hush fell over the chamber as the herald's voice rang out, "All hail the King of Winteris!" The grand double doors swung open, revealing the imposing figure of King Caspian. He entered the court with a regal poise and an air of cool detachment, as if he were winter itself personified. Taking his seat beside King Alaric, Caspian greeted the other monarch with a calm smile. "You seem troubled, Alaric," he observed.

Alaric's face was etched with lines of worry. "How can I not be? These black wolves are proving to be a thorn in our side. There's a multitude of pressing issues that demand our attention within the Empire." Caspian nodded understandingly. "We have all faced similar challenges. These creatures must be dealt with swiftly and decisively. I have no doubt that we will prevail." King Ragnar, with a small smile, remarked, "You seem remarkably confident, Caspian."

A tense silence hung in the air as the minutes ticked by. Then, a herald's voice announced the arrival of the King of Carthage. The grand double doors swung open, revealing a figure cloaked in an aura of intimidation. The king's expression was a chilling blend of ruthlessness and strictness. His eyes, cold and calculating, seemed to pierce through those who dared to meet his gaze. With a purposeful stride, he entered the court, ignoring the fearful glances of those around him.

Taking his place beside the other monarchs, the King of Carthage sat in stoic silence, his presence casting a pall of fear over the room. King Ragnar broke the ensuing silence. "I believe we are all assembled, Erudite," he began. "Let's begin this meeting as soon as possible," he added. King Alaric echoed his sentiment. "I agree. We are already complete in this court. Time is of the essence."

Erudite Cedric's voice echoed through the chamber as he announced, "We are still awaiting the arrival of the remaining monarch." A ripple of discontent passed through the assembled crowd. "Are you referring to the King of Skotos?" King Caspian inquired. "Don't hold your breath," he added with a note of disdain. King Ragnar's face darkened. "I concur. In fact, I have never seen this king in person since his ascension to the throne. His identity remains shrouded in mystery. This is the first time he has reached out to us. And for what? To ask for our aid? The audacity!" King Ragnar echoed his sentiment, his voice filled with indignation.

King Alexander remains silent observing their interactions, with a stoic expression. "I understand your apprehension, gentlemen," Cedric announced, his voice carrying across the chamber. "King Lucian, though absent, remains an integral part of Aurelia. He has pledged his loyalty to our cause, and he desperately requires our assistance. This crisis, I assure you, is not solely Skotos' burden, but a threat to the stability of all the empires."

A hushed silence descended upon the court as Cedric's words sank in. His voice, filled with conviction, resonated through the grand hall, compelling the assembled leaders to contemplate the gravity of the situation.

Just as Cedric finished his speech, as if on cue, the grand double doors creaked open, revealing a figure cloaked in darkness. The King of Skotos, Lucian, had arrived. A hush fell over the court at his presence. The regent guarding the entrance stood momentarily perplexed, his gaze fixed on the newcomer. The man's identity was a mystery to him. A hush fell over the chamber as all eyes turned to the intruder. His obsidian eyes held a depth of mystery that seemed to draw the onlookers in.

The regent, his confusion evident, stepped forward. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Lucian turned to face him, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I am Lucian, King of Skotos," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of menace. The regent's eyes widened in recognition. The name Lucian was known throughout the land, but few had ever seen his face. The mysterious king had finally revealed himself.

A collective gasp escaped the assembled leaders as the king stepped into the chamber. His appearance was as enigmatic as his absence. Dressed entirely in black, he was draped in a luxurious black fur cloak that seemed to blend with the shadows. His hair, as dark as night, framed a face that was pale almost to the point of translucent. His eyes, a piercing black, held a reptilian glint that sent a shiver down the spines of those who dared to meet his gaze.

Towering over the crowd, Lucian exuded an aura of both power and mystery. His presence filled the room with a palpable tension. Yet, despite his intimidating appearance, he greeted the assembled leaders with a seemingly genuine smile. Bowing respectfully to the high regents, he acknowledged the other monarchs with a nod.

King Lucian sat on the empty chair beside King Alexander who didn't pay any attention to the newcomer. The other Kings, the regents, observe him. Despite his youthful appearance, the Skotos King's true age remains a mystery. He seems to be in his mid-20s.

Cedric stands up and with a loud voice announce, "I believe we are all complete. Let's begin this meeting. Before anything else, I would like to extend my gratitude for your presence and immediate response despite the short notice and your location. Your presence is vital for you are the beacon of hope and the anchor of your empires," he started and bowed at the people present. Cedric nodded at the high regent beside him named Marcus, who stand up.

High Regent Marcus rose to address the council, his voice steady and grave. "We have gathered here today to discuss several critical matters," he began, his gaze sweeping across the room. "Foremost among these is the recent attack on Skotos, which has left the city vulnerable. Additionally, we must address the coordinated strikes at Carthage, Sunaria, and Winteris, each of which threatens the stability of the realm. These events are not isolated; they are part of a larger, more dangerous pattern."

Pausing for emphasis, Marcus continued with a deeper intensity. "We must also turn our attention to the growing menace of the black wolves, a force long foretold in the ancient prophecy. The clergy has raised urgent concerns, believing that these omens point to the fulfillment of dark times. It is imperative that we determine the actions necessary to face this crisis and protect our people. Every decision we make here will shape the future of the kingdom."

Cedric addressed the gathering, 'I now call upon the head regents of Division 5, Division 8, and Division 2. Please provide your reports, ensuring clarity and detail.' A distinguished-looking man in his fifties rose from his seat. He was Hugo, the head regent of Division 5.

He stood firmly at the center, facing the crowd with a commanding presence. His voice boomed across the chamber as he began, "Gentlemen, I am Head Regent Hugo of Division 5. Today, I stand before you to present the findings from our investigation into the horrific wolf attack that occurred in Sunaria. This attack took place at a remote village, in the early hours of dawn, precisely at five o'clock in the morning. The victims, a small family living in a modest cottage, were the Simpsons: a mother, a father, and their three children—a seventeen-year-old boy, and three girls aged eighteen, sixteen, and eleven."

Hugo's expression grew somber as he continued. "The father worked as a vendor in Sunaria, while the mother tended to the household. Though the family lived in poverty, they were brutally slaughtered in the attack. The aftermath was nothing short of a nightmare. The cottage, once their humble home, became a scene of unimaginable horror. The father's body was found with both legs severed, while the mother's head and hand were missing. Their son, barely a young man, had been gruesomely cleaved in half. The eldest daughter's abdomen was violently torn open, while the youngest, was savagely killed by deep slashes that could only have been caused by the sharp claws of wild beasts."

The crowd stirred uneasily as Hugo's voice lowered, the weight of the tragedy sinking in. "Among the chaos, one daughter's body remained relatively intact, though she too bore the marks of the wolves—visible bite wounds marring her lifeless form. The cottage itself was a wreck, with furniture shattered, wolf fur and muddy footprints strewn across the blood-soaked floors. The stench of the wolves lingered, permeating every corner of the house, leaving behind a chilling reminder of the carnage that had taken place."

"We've already forwarded the victims' bodies to our medical experts for a thorough autopsy. The report, which I'm holding here, confirms their findings: these tragic deaths were caused by a black wolf attack." As he held up the papers, a wave of shock and disbelief swept through the crowd. The revelation was met with gasps and murmurs, as the community struggled to comprehend the terrifying truth.