It was mid-afternoon in Lycanthria. The sun hung high in the sky, casting steady light over the kingdom. The marketplace below was busy as usual. Merchants shouted their prices. Children ran between the legs of adults and stalls. Carts rolled across the stone paths. The smell of roasted meat, fresh bread, mixed with the least odors of livestock and unwashed bodies. Guards stood at their posts, watching the crowd with quiet alertness.
High above the noise, a raven flew across the sky unnoticed by the crowd below. It held a small vial in its beak. It was not an ordinary raven. Its eyes scanned the marketplace with a certain intelligence that no bird possessed. The bird did not circle aimlessly. It flew with purpose. It tracked guards' movements, noted patrols' positions, and catalogued faces in the crowd. When it had gathered enough information, its wings moved with controlled precision as it continued toward the palace.
