Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women

When they reached the entrance to the hall, the guards let them pass without question. The council chamber was dimly lit, the glow of lanterns casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. Several figures were already gathered inside, their faces drawn with exhaustion. Some of them had barely slept since the battle, and it showed.

Lyara stepped forward first, pulling the scroll from Jude's grasp and setting it down on the central table. "We received this at the east gate."

The council members leaned in, scanning the words. Silence stretched between them, heavy and unbroken.

Jude folded his arms. "We need to find out who sent this."

One of the older councilmen, a man named Veylen, exhaled through his nose. "We already know." His gaze lifted to meet Jude's. "This isn't the first message."

Jude felt a flicker of irritation. "And when exactly were you planning to tell us that?"

Veylen didn't flinch. "When we had something useful to tell you in return."

Lyara narrowed her eyes. "And do you?"

A pause.

Another council member, a woman named Elara, tapped a finger against the table. "We don't know who's sending them. We only know they've been appearing in different parts of the kingdom. Always the same message. Always delivered by someone we've never seen before."

Jude frowned. "And always disappearing without a trace."

Elara nodded. "Exactly."

Veylen sighed, rubbing his temples. "We thought they were trying to sow fear. Spread uncertainty. But if they've come to you directly…" His gaze sharpened. "It means they know something we don't."

Jude clenched his jaw. They had fought to protect this city, to hold back the chaos that threatened to tear it apart. But wars didn't end just because the fighting stopped. They ended when the balance was restored. And if these messages were to be believed, that balance was still teetering.

Lyara rested a hand on the table. "We need to track them."

Veylen let out a low chuckle, devoid of humor. "You think we haven't tried?"

She didn't blink. "Then we try harder."

A murmur rippled through the council. Some nodded, others exchanged wary glances.

Jude's fingers twitched at his side. He wanted to move, to do something. Every moment they wasted standing here was another moment their enemies gained the upper hand.

Elara studied them for a long moment, then finally nodded. "Go."

That was all the permission they needed.

Jude and Lyara turned and strode out of the chamber, their pace quickening as they moved back into the night.

They started at the east gate, retracing their steps, searching for anything they might have missed. The air was still thick with energy, though faint. Jude knelt, running his fingers over the ground where the figure had stood. The cobblestones were smooth beneath his touch, undisturbed.

No footprints. No lingering presence. Nothing.

Lyara crouched beside him, her gaze sharp. "They didn't walk away."

Jude nodded. "They vanished."

She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly over the air. A faint shimmer pulsed in response. "Magic."

Jude frowned. It wasn't unusual, many could wield magic, in one form or another. But this wasn't ordinary magic. It was deliberate. Controlled.

He stood, scanning the area. "They wanted us to see them. But they didn't want us to follow."

Lyara rose as well, her expression unreadable. "Then we make them come to us."

Jude arched a brow. "And how do you propose we do that?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "We do exactly what they don't want. We tip the balance."

He didn't ask her to explain. He knew her well enough to trust that whatever plan was forming in her mind, it would be bold. And dangerous.

They spent the next two days stirring the city, making their presence known. They spoke to merchants, to travelers, to anyone who might have seen something unusual. They made sure word spread, that they were looking for answers, that they weren't afraid to challenge whoever was behind these messages.

And then they waited.

The response came on the third night.

Jude had barely closed his eyes when he felt it, a shift in the air, subtle but distinct. He sat up, already reaching for his weapon.

Lyara was awake too. She had felt it as well.

A shadow flickered at the edge of the room.

Jude didn't hesitate. He moved, fast and precise, grabbing his dagger and throwing it. The blade struck the wall, embedding itself in solid wood.

The shadow didn't flinch. Instead, a voice, low and smooth, filled the space. "Impressive."

Jude's eyes narrowed. "You shouldn't have come here."

A quiet chuckle. "And yet, here I am."

Lyara's fingers tightened around her weapon. "Who are you?"

The figure didn't answer immediately. They stepped forward, the faint glow of the lantern catching the edge of their cloak. The same dark fabric. The same silver eyes.

The same messenger.

Jude clenched his jaw. "You have another message?"

The figure smiled. "No. This time, I have a question."

Silence stretched.

Lyara's voice was steady. "Then ask it."

The messenger tilted their head slightly. "What will you do when the storm finally reaches you?"

Jude's grip tightened. "We'll face it."

The messenger's smile didn't fade. "And if it cannot be faced?"

Lyara took a slow step forward. "Then we'll change the rules."

For the first time, the messenger hesitated. It was brief, almost imperceptible, but it was there.

Jude saw it. Lyara saw it.

And that was all they needed.

The balance had already begun to shift.

The scent of damp earth lingered in the air as Jude and Lyara followed the messenger's fading presence into the night. The figure had left without another word, disappearing into the shadows as effortlessly as they had arrived. But the question they had posed remained, lingering like a whisper neither of them could ignore.

What will you do when the storm finally reaches you?

Jude clenched his jaw. He hated riddles, and he hated being left with more questions than answers.