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Father, why do the ravens gather in the trees before a battle?" Young Lord Edric asked, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity as he watched the black figures congregate in the distance.

Lord Aldric looked down at his son, the lines of his weathered face deepening as he considered his answer. "They are drawn to the promise of the feast, my boy," he replied, his eyes never leaving the horizon. "But it is not the dead they seek. It is the fate of the living that brings them here."

The two stood on the ramparts of their castle, the stones cold and unforgiving under their boots. The air was heavy with the scent of rain, and the distant rumble of thunder echoed the tension that lay thick within the fortress walls. Below them, the men-at-arms scurried about, preparing for the inevitable clash that was to come. The castle was a bastion of hope in a world where the line between life and death was as thin as parchment.

"What does it mean for us, Father?" Edric inquired, his eyes wide with the weight of understanding that his future rested upon the battles to come.

"It means we must be vigilant, my son," Lord Aldric said, placing a firm hand on Edric's shoulder. "We must be ready to face whatever fate the gods have in store for us. And should the worst come to pass, it is your duty to ensure our line continues."

Edric nodded solemnly, his gaze dropping to the sword at his side. It was a weapon that had been passed down through generations, each one bearing the weight of their ancestors' triumphs and defeats. He had seen his father wield it with grace and power on the battlefield, and he knew that one day it would be his turn to carry that legacy.

As the day progressed, the rumble of thunder grew louder, closer. The clouds above the castle grew darker, and the rain began to fall in a steady rhythm, mirroring the pounding of the soldiers' hearts as they waited for the enemy's approach. The ravens grew restless, their caws piercing the tension-filled silence.

"To arms!" The call echoed through the castle, and Edric felt his own heart quicken. His father looked at him, a fierce pride in his eyes. "Remember, Edric, your valor and wisdom are the shields of our house."

Edric nodded, donned his helm, and followed Lord Aldric down the stone staircase. The sound of clanking metal and rushing footsteps grew louder as they approached the main gate. The castle's defenders had formed a tight line, their faces a mix of determination and fear. The enemy was upon them, and the fate of their lands hung in the balance.

As the rain grew heavier, so did the pounding of the enemy's siege engines. The earth trembled with each impact, and the castle walls groaned under the relentless assault. Edric could see the banners of their foes through the curtain of rain, a stark reminder of the warring factions that had torn the kingdom apart for generations.