Elder Seraya remained silent for a few moments.
The weathered hawk Beastwoman slowly folded her hands atop the table. The leather around her wrists creaked softly as she shifted, and somewhere outside the open window, the cry of a distant hawk drifted through the warm afternoon air.
"I like your signal towers." She nodded once.
"Very much, in fact. They'll save lives."
Her scarred fingers traced a slow line across the polished tabletop.
"But they're only the beginning." She looked directly at Mirabelle. "A signal tells you that danger exists. It doesn't stop it."
She leaned back slightly.
"Let's imagine a Rogue warband crosses our northern border. They're spotted immediately. The nearest tower lights its beacon. The next tower answers. And the next."
She raised a hand, illustrating the wave as though the fire were racing from one tower to the next.
"Within minutes, the warning reaches Steinstein." Another nod. "Excellent."
Her expression hardened.
