The air in the Royal Library of Eldoria was usually thick with the scent of aged parchment and hushed reverence. Tonight, however, it hummed with a different kind of energy a crackle of apprehension that seemed to distort the very dust motes dancing in the moonlight filtering through the high arched windows. King Theron, his brow furrowed deeper than usual, stood before the ancient oak table, a single, ominous object resting upon its polished surface.
It was a letter.
But not just any letter. Its parchment was not the usual cream or vellum, but a startling, velvety black, so dark it seemed to absorb the light around it. It felt cold to the touch, a subtle chill that permeated the very air of the room. The seal, traditionally a blob of wax impressed with a noble crest, was even more unsettling. It was a shard of obsidian, perfectly faceted, and within its depths, a single, baleful red eye seemed to glitter, unblinking.
"Are you certain, Elara?" The King's voice, usually a booming resonance, was a low rumble of unease. 
"There has been no communication from the Shadowfell in centuries. Not since the Great Sundering."
Elara a woman whose wisdom was as deep as the library's countless volumes, adjusted her spectacles.
"My King, the messenger was unmistakable. A creature of shadow, cloaked in living night, that vanished as swiftly as it appeared, leaving this behind." Her gaze, usually serene, held a flicker of apprehension.
"The wards, the enchantments around the castle... none were triggered. It was as if it simply... manifested."
Prince Kael, ever the pragmatic warrior, reached for his sword hilt, his hand flexing.
"It's a trap, Father. A trick of the Darkness Queen. We should burn it."
"And risk her wrath? Or miss a crucial warning?" Queen Lyra, her hands clasped tightly before her, stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. 
"We must know what it says. But with the utmost caution."
King Theron nodded slowly. 
"Indeed. Queen Elara.
your insights into ancient languages are unmatched. Can you... decipher it?"
Elara approached the table, her movements deliberate. She circled the letter, her eyes scanning its obsidian seal, then the faint, shimmering script that seemed to writhe across the black parchment, visible only when the moonlight caught it at a certain angle. It wasn't written in any known Aethelrian  dialect, nor even the ancient tongue of the First Men. It was a language that felt older, colder, a whisper from the void.
"It is... a form of abyssal script," Elara finally murmured, her voice laced with a mixture of dread and scholarly fascination. 
"A language of the deepest shadows, thought to be lost." She paused, her eyes narrowing as she focused.
"The seal... it is not merely a mark. It is a conduit. A fragment of the Darkness Queen's own essence, woven into the obsidian."
Kael bristled. 
"Then touching it could be dangerous!"
"It is already here, my Prince," Elara replied, her gaze fixed on the letter.
"The danger is in what it brings, not its physical presence." She took a deep, steadying breath. 
"I believe I can read it. But we must be prepared for what it might reveal."
A tense silence descended upon the library, broken only by the faint rustle of Elara's robes as she began to decipher the chilling script. The moonlight seemed to dim, casting long, distorted shadows that danced with the flickering anxiety in the hearts of Eldoria's royal family. Each word Elara painstakingly translated seemed to drop like a frozen stone into the quiet room, echoing with ill tidings.
"It begins," Elara's voice was barely a whisper, "with an address... 
'To the Fading Light of Aethel, and its Dimming Throne.'" A c gasp filled the air. This was no diplomatic overture. 
This was a declaration.
"It speaks of... the 'coming night,' and the 'inevitable embrace of eternal shadow.'" Elara's hands trembled slightly as she continued to translate, her voice growing strained. "It speaks of 'debts to be paid,' and 'a reckoning for the arrogance of light.'"
King Theron's face hardened a grim resolve replacing his initial apprehension. Queen Lyra paled her hand unconsciously reaching for Kael's arm. Kael's grip on his sword hilt tightened until his knuckles were white.
"And then," Elara concluded, her voice barely audible, 
"a single, chilling demand, sealed by the malevolent eye within the obsidian: 'Prepare your surrender, for my legions march. The Age of Darkness has begun.'"
The silence that followed was absolute, heavier than any ancient tome in the library. The words hung in the air, a  shattering the peace of Aethel The Darkness Queen, a mythical terror a nightmare from forgotten lore, had not only sent a letter – she had declared war. And the obsidian seal, with its baleful, unblinking eye, seemed to watch them all, a silent, chilling promise of the coming night.
--- Queen Elara of West Pillar Kingdom 
: Kael is Queen Elara's Oldest Brother.
A dilapidated tower chamber, moonlight filtering through shattered windows. Dust motes dance in the faint glow, illuminating ancient tapestries that depict forgotten battles.
Kael narrowly dodging a searing bolt of arcane energy from Elara. He rolls, coming up with daggers drawn, his eyes narrowed.
Still got that temper, old woman. 
You'll scorch us both out of this tower if you're not careful." Kael spoke.
"Kael, are still as insufferably obtuse as ever! Do you truly believe this… this missive is anything but a trap?"
Queen Elara's voice tight with strained patience
"A trap that offers an alliance, Elara! An end to this endless war! Think of the lives we could save!" Keal uttered and he gestures vaguely with a dagger towards a crumpled, ominous-looking scroll clutched in Elara's other hand.
"Save? You honestly believe the Darkness Queen offers salvation? Her words drip with poison you side with an enemy Kael!" Queen Elara replied.
"An end to hostilities," "a new era of cooperation"... it's all a gilded cage!
"She's cornered! We've pushed her forces back to the Mirelands! This is a desperate plea, a sign of weakness!" Kael forcing Elara to parry with a shimmering shield of magic. The clash of steel and arcane energy sparks in the dim light.
"Weakness? You call this letter weakness? It's a calculated gamble! She's testing our resolve, seeing if we're foolish enough to drop our guard! She wants us divided." Queen Lyra spoke.
Kael to turn us against each other
exactly as he's doing now!
He ducks under another spell, spinning to come up behind her, but Elara anticipates it, shifting her weight.
" And your grand plan? To keep throwing bodies at her legions until we're all dust? We're losing, Elara! Slowly, agonizingly, but we are losing. This letter... it's a chance. A slim one, maybe, but a chance!" Kael said.
" A chance to walk willingly into her maw! I've seen her work before, Kael! I've witnessed the promises she weaves, the hope she offers only to crush under her heel! Do you forget the villages she promised peace to, only to leave them desolate, their people turned to shade?" Queen Elara apoke.
He parries a swift magical thrust, his brow furrowed with frustration.
"That was different! We were weak then! Now we have the scattered kingdoms united, we have a fighting chance! If we go to this "negotiation" with our eyes open, with a full contingent of our strongest, we can turn it into our trap!" Keal said like a crazy person.
Her voice rises, tinged with a desperate edge.
"No! You romanticize her treachery! This Letter from the Darkness Queen isn't an invitation, Kael, it's a declaration of ownership! She wants to break our spirit, not forge an alliance! We destroy that letter, and we continue the fight on our terms!" Queen Lyra spoke with authority in her voice.
Elara raises her hand 
a destructive spell gathering, aimed not at Kael, but at the crumpled letter. 
Kael sees her intent and his eyes widen.
"No! Elara, wait!" Kael said.
He dives forward, tackling her just as the spell is about to unleash, sending them both tumbling to the dusty floor, the ominous letter fluttering from Elara's grasp to land near the shattered window. They lie there, momentarily winded, glaring at each other.
" You fool!" Queen Elara's declared panting.
Kael catching his breath, a faint smile playing on his lips despite the struggle But sometimes, a fool's gamble is all we have left.
What do you think happens next with the letter? Does one of them retrieve it, or does something else interrupt?