Letter to the Emperor

At the foot of the charred palace, a military encampment had taken root. Towering barracks loomed over the soldiers, who had rallied under the command of the General. Despite the biting cold and falling snow, the campfires blazed, offering meagre warmth to the huddled troops. The harsh wind swept through, stirring up ashes that lingered beneath the pristine snow, like old scars reopened with each step.

Commander Bishop prowled the campgrounds, his brow furrowed in a perpetual scowl. Ignoring the fresh wound on his neck, he pressed on with urgency, his gaze fixed on a soldier of similar stature and stern countenance. The air around these soldiers was thick with a primal energy.

"Commander Bishop!" the soldier called out in recognition, prompting a curt nod from Bishop. "Where is the General?" he inquired.

"The General went for a stroll outside the palace," the soldier responded. "But Commander, your injury—"

"It's of no concern. I'll tend to it after meeting with the General," Bishop dismissed, striding purposefully towards the palace gates. The scorched remnants of the once-grand edifice now lay in the hands of soldiers from the Nuria Empire, as the kingdom's servants had fled in fear.

Bishop trudged through the deep snow, scanning the landscape for Noori, but she was nowhere to be seen. He pressed on, navigating the treacherous terrain of the mountain palace. Eventually, he spotted a flash of red amidst the bleak landscape—a cape caught in the biting wind. Despite his fiery resolve, Bishop felt a chill seep into his bones in the frigid climate of Solyria. Though accustomed to the snowy peaks of Nuria, the icy grip of Solyria's winter was unforgiving.

Approaching Noori cautiously, Bishop found her standing at the edge of a precipice, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. Not wishing to startle her, he stopped at a respectful distance, waiting for her to acknowledge his presence. She was keenly attuned to the sounds around her, and the silence was punctuated only by the howling wind and the numbing cold that gnawed at Bishop's limbs. Finally, she spoke.

"What brings you here, Commander Bishop?" Noori's voice cut through the stillness, her gaze meeting him as she turned towards him.

Bishop lowered his head, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. "I came to check on you, General. After the palace was engulfed in flames, I was concerned," he admitted, his tone laced with genuine worry.

Noori nodded in acknowledgment before her expression shifted, her brow furrowing at the sight of the mark on Bishop's neck. "How can you concern yourself with me when you bear such a wound?" she chided, her concern evident. Bishop, caught off guard, looked up to find Noori standing mere steps away.

"A sword wound?" Noori observed, her hand hovering over the injury as if invoking a spell.

"It was inflicted by the Solyrian troop commander," Bishop replied, his fists clenching as the cold began to gnaw at him.

Sensing Bishop's discomfort, Noori wasted no time. "Wrap it up and pray for swift healing. Untreated wounds only fester," she advised firmly.

"I will, but General, what transpired? How did we find ourselves in this predicament?" Bishop queried, casting a bewildered glance around their surroundings.

Noori closed her eyes briefly, her expression darkening with contemplation. Opening her eyes, she fixed her gaze on her hand. "Dispatch a missive to my father and demand answers," she commanded.

"Yes, General," Bishop assented, though he hesitated to leave Noori's side. She stood with him for a moment before relaxing her clenched fist.

"Return, it's bitterly cold," she urged in a hushed tone.

"Please, General, accompany me," Bishop insisted.

"No, return," Noori insisted, her voice firm. "Snowfall is imminent. Inform the troops to brace themselves."

With a wave of her hand, Noori pressed it against Bishop's leather vest, imparting a sudden surge of warmth that coursed through his veins, thawing his chilled body. "General!" he exclaimed, taken aback by the unexpected sensation and the reddish glint in Noori's eyes—a telltale sign of her channelling her powers to shield him from the cold.

Noori remained silent, gesturing for Bishop to depart. Reluctantly, he complied, leaving Noori alone to contemplate their precarious situation.

Bishop found himself compelled to obey Noori's directive and depart. Her enchantment had a profound effect, shielding him from the bitter cold with a warmth that seemed to emanate from within. Despite his attempts to draw upon his own mana to combat the chill, he couldn't rival Noori's mastery of her element. She was renowned throughout the Nuria Empire as a prodigy, having honed her abilities to perfection at the tender age of six.

Respect for the General coursed through Bishop's veins. He had never encountered a leader as exceptional as her. Despite the rumors and misconceptions that circulated, his admiration for her only grew with each passing day. And he wasn't alone—the entire military of the Nuria Empire yearned to serve under her command.

Upon his return to the charred palace, Bishop encountered the same soldier once more. "Commander! Did you locate the General?" the soldier inquired, a note of concern evident in his voice.

"Yes, I did," Bishop replied.

"Where is she? What did she say?" the soldier pressed impatiently.

Bishop took a deep breath, his gaze drifting downward with a troubled expression as silence hung heavy between him and Jafar. Sensing the weight of the moment, Jafar watched Bishop closely, concern etched into his features.

"The General instructed me to dispatch a letter to the Emperor," Bishop revealed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"The Emperor?!" Jafar exclaimed, his eyes widening in astonishment at the gravity of the situation.

"Yes. It appears even the General is uncertain of the circumstances. We must act swiftly and send the message before matters escalate," Bishop urged, his tone tinged with apprehension, a sentiment mirrored by Jafar's nod of agreement.

"Go, check on the soldiers. Ensure they are adequately prepared for the harsh night ahead," Bishop directed, his concern for the troops evident. With a firm nod, Jafar turned to fulfil his orders while Bishop hastened to his camp to dispatch the crucial missive to the Emperor.