Message.

The winds of the north had changed.

Once-broken paths were now smooth roads lined with sturdy stone. Traders from distant kingdoms crossed through Sikone daily, their carts heavy with goods, their eyes filled with wonder.

Children laughed in the marketplace, chasing each other between merchant stalls that brimmed with exotic spices, enchanted trinkets, and forged weapons bearing the unmistakable signature of James Oliak.

The village pulsed with life. And it all flowed around one name.

Jared.

From a humble chieftain to a respected leader of the northern trade network, Jared had built Sikone into a thriving hub of commerce, strength, and influence.

Gold flowed through its coffers like wine at a noble's banquet. The armory was full, the people were fed, the guards well-trained, and the gods—silent.

For once, there was peace.

And Jared was exhausted.