KELLY THOMPSON'S POV
A shiver of premonition ran down my spine moments before the raven arrived. Its obsidian feathers shimmered with a sinister sheen as it landed on my windowsill, clutching the message that would turn the tides of our fragile peace. I untied the scroll, hands steady despite the dread pooling in my gut. The words scrawled across the parchment were like a death knell: "The Black Faes move against us. Prepare."
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