June 2025 Prologue

The first sign of their arrival was not the rumble of wagon wheels on the cobbled roads, nor the flutter of banners or the shimmer of silk canopies, but voices. Loud, theatrical, and brimming with charm, barkers in plum-colored vests and gold-trimmed boots wove through the morning crowds like actors through a stage curtain.

“Hear ye, hear ye!” cried one, his voice ringing over the marketplace like a herald announcing destiny. “In one week’s time The Vantheon Traveling Theatre Company brings wonder and weeping, laughter and longing for one night only! Or perhaps two or three, should the stars favor us!”

Another stood atop a barrel, juggling torches with a grin far too wide to be entirely sane. “Come see the enchanting tales of The Bard with a Book! Watch our puppeteer bring life to mere threads and terrify those brave enough to attend! Listen to the Lark as her melodies ease your every worry and fear! And introducing Virun Malus, whose violin will show you parts of yourself that only grief dares remember! Bring your coin, bring your hearts. Prepare to lose both!”

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Leaving the mists of the Rift behind them, a gleaming caravan rolled to a halt.  Six lacquered wagons, each painted with swirling sigils and scenes of myth, glinted in the morning light. Dancers stretched beside their bunks, stagehands argued over rope knots, and at the front, Elara Vantheon sat atop the lead carriage, cloaked in violet and calm as a queen.

A checkpoint guard approached, and Elara offered a sheaf of papers without hesitation. The guard thumbed through them, eyes flicking between the pages and her poised expression.

“Everything seems to be in order, Ms. Vantheon,” he said finally, handing the papers back. “Welcome to Travance. We hope your company’s stay is enjoyable. Please ensure adherence to local and Crown laws.”

Elara’s smile was practiced but not false. “Of course, officer. We’re headed to the Proper. There's magic of the stage to conjure, after all.”

The guard chuckled politely, though his eyes lingered on the strange instruments and puppets visible through the canvas flaps.

With a flick of the reins, the wagons began to roll once more. Bells chimed from one of the rear carriages as the company moved into Travance, bringing stories, and secrets with them.

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Behind the clamor and spectacle of the decorated caravan walls, away from prying ears, the performers gathered in small, shadowed circles beneath flickering lantern light. 

“We have little time,” one whispered urgently, “the Keys wait for proof that we’ve cracked the encryption, and once the stage is set, we must find the moment to pass the message.” 

The puppeteer nodded, fingers twitching around a carved marionette, her voice low and grave: “The threads will carry more than stories this time. We cannot fail.” 

Virun’s pale eyes flickered toward the caravan door as his fingers tightened around the neck of his violin. “Their fate is tied to ours, but the truth must reach those waiting back in silence.” Outside, the caravans rolled on towards Travance, the rest of their occupants unaware the rebellion was being furthered in whispered secrets and hidden codes inside.

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Elsewhere, beneath the stone arches of Gaaldron’s military quarter, Commander Terlun signed the final stroke of a warrant with deliberate weight. The parchment still smelled of wax, its lettering inked in the dark, heavy hand of justice. The name at the top was underlined twice.

Elara Vantheon — charged with numerous counts of manslaughter, the kind no audience could applaud away.

He handed the document to his secretary, a wiry man with eyes like shuttered windows.

As the secretary turned to go, he paused. “Sir, we’ve just received word, she’s crossed into Travance. The company arrived an hour ago.”

Terlun didn’t look up right away. He reached for his gloves, tugging them on with the calm of a man who has hunted before.

“Ready my carriage,” he said at last. “If she’s in Travance, then that’s where we go.”

He didn’t say it aloud, but the thought settled heavy in the room:

Her theatre may begin with laughter... but it ends with him.