Conspiracy

The cave was cold and damp, its rough walls glistening with moisture in the flickering torchlight. I pulled my cloak tighter around me, fighting off a shiver that had nothing to do with the temperature. Far beneath the bustling corridors of Winterspire, hidden from prying eyes and sensitive ears, we gathered. The air was thick with tension and the acrid scent of ambition.

I watched as they filtered in, one by one. Each wore a cloak of secrecy, their faces partially obscured by deep hoods. But I knew them all. Had watched them for years, waiting for this moment when discontent would finally bubble over into action.

Fenris arrived first, his eyes darting nervously as he took his place in our makeshift circle. The usually brash wolf seemed diminished here, away from the pack that bolstered his confidence. Good. He would be easier to manipulate.

Next came Lyra, her graceful movements at odds with the hard glint in her eyes. She had once been considered for the position of Luna, before Garr