Greibron's Politics

Concordia, Seven Hundred Years Before

Thaelen leaned his hip on the thick stone of the window, looking out through the warped glass of the window. The tents that had not been burnt or destroyed in the initial invasion had been repurposed by the Greibron army into barracks and the land which had been dedicated to being developed into a symbol of peace was instead, yet again, a battle ground.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said to Harithen pushing away from the window and crossing to the door. “Try to get some rest.”

“I should come with you,” Harithen protested pushing back the blankets. “My supporters need to see that I am alive.”

“Harithen,” Thaelen caught at the doorframe and turned back slowly. He closed the door behind him and crossed to sit on the edge of the mattress. “A well-aimed arrow, or one of those handheld guns… And you are dead. They are already trying to kill you. I will take Alandra’s body to the meeting point and hope to reason with Jermyne. But you need to stay here, where i