Lord Hadran d'Cannith was sat behind his desk, thoughtfully stroking his chin. Before him, stood in front of the door on an imported Sarlonan rug was a messenger whom he had been waiting to hear from for some time. It had been over a year since the day of Mourning, and the last he had heard of his betrothed. Since that horrible day, and the news of Cyre's destruction, he had spent a fortune of the house's resources on inquisitives and messengers. He had even hired diviners and an augur! Anything for some news of his betrothed.
He had always clung to an ember of hope, and he hoped that this time, it would pay off. The messenger was wrapped in a dark green cloak, a hood pulled lower to obscure her face. "It has been difficult to find any information about the battle that occurred at the Field of Ruins, so few survived. It seems as if Aleisa, and her squad, were being pursued by Brelish warforged when the disaster hit. There is no further information about what occurred there, but she was spotted by refugees on the Brelish side of the border. I imagine she's one of the few people who actually saw it happen with her own eyes."
"But she's alive?" Hadran asked, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. Oh how cruel could fate be, to finally deliver him news and have it be news of her death? He couldn't bear such a thing.
"I'm not a diviner. I believe she re-entered the Mournland to look for survivors." replied the messenger.
"If she's alive, why haven't I heard from her? Why hasn't she sent me a message?" fretted the Cannith heir.
"I wouldn't be surprised if she had no coin. Regardless, I know for a fact that Aleisa d'Cannith is alive and on her way here. I expect her and her companions will arrive in Sharn within the week."
"This is glorious news!" Hadran yelled, leaping to his feet and pushing his chair noisily across the floor behind him. "I know you can't rely on such things, but in the beginning, I spoke to an augur about her. They said we would never be married, that death would come between us." he was almost crying with joy as he went to embrace the messenger.
But she stepped back, away from him. "Prophecy is easily misread, Lord Hadran. Aleisa will be in Sharn within the week, but you will never see her."
"What?" asked Hadran, paralyzed by the shock of what he'd just heard.
"The oracle was correct, you had just assumed that it was her that would die, and not you," the shadows seemed to darken, and Hadran realised he hadn't seen the messengers face. She threw off her cloak and all he could do was cry out in horror.
"Things have been set in motion," the messenger said to no one in particular as she wiped Hadran's blood off of her hands.