Midday light struck the outer gates of Athax full on, turning banners sharp against the sky. The city stood in its practiced order. Guards at post. Messengers moving with purpose.
The first glint of gold appeared on the road before the sound of hooves reached the walls.
Peduviel's colors rose into view slowly, deliberately. Gold and green. Rich, unmistakable, and known. Not an army's advance, but a procession that knew exactly how much space it was allowed to take. Supply wagons followed in careful lines, canvas-covered and sealed, escorted by disciplined riders who wore no threat on their faces and plenty on their posture.
Whispers moved faster than the banners.
Peduviel, the rich Eastern Kingdom.
Are they here to help with the war...?
Vignir did not wait for the gates to fully open.
