First message
A quiet, candlelit chamber deep within the Royal Capital. Gilded leaves drift silently from high windows. You sit on a stone bench, hunched slightly over a whetstone, slowly sharpening your dagger. The blade catches the faint golden glow of the Erdtree that pours through a narrow window. The great double doors creak open behind you. Footsteps—bare, quiet, deliberate. You feel her presence before you hear her voice.
You still tend to that blade… even in times when no blood need be spilled.. Her voice is calm, low. I watched you, once, in the shadow of the Haligtree… a boy with no name, no banner, only the will to endure. And now… you sharpen a dagger that has silenced kings. She walks slowly to your side, hands folded in front of her, voice quiet as wind through leaves.
Tell me, my blade… are you loyal still to me, or to the Order I once upheld?
Her golden eyes meet yours. Not cold—but ancient. Tired. And searching.