The smell of blood lingered heavily in the air.

Not the fresh metallic scent of a battlefield.

No.

This was the smell that came after.

The smell of untreated wounds, damp bandages, and exhausted men waiting for a dawn they were no longer certain would arrive to see.

The military camp was unusually quiet.

No laughter echoed between the tents.

No soldiers gathered around campfires.

There was little reason to.

The food stores had run dry three days ago.

The last of the clean water had been rationed that morning.

Even the horses had begun to show signs of exhaustion.

A cold wind swept across the camp.

The banners bearing the imperial crest fluttered weakly in the darkness.

Inside the command tent, several generals stood around a large wooden table.

Their faces were grim.

"We cannot continue like this, Your Highness."

The speaker was General Rowan, one of the few commanders who had remained by his side since the beginning of the campaign.

His usually stern face now carried traces of fatigue.

"Our soldiers are starving."

Another general spoke.

"If we remain here, we will be surrounded."

"And if we retreat?" a third snapped.

"The enemy will pursue us immediately."

Silence followed.

No one had an answer.

Because there wasn't one.

At the head of the table stood Crown Prince Cassian Lucien Valmont.

His gaze remained fixed on the war map spread before him.

Black hair fell loosely over his forehead.

The candlelight cast shadows across his sharp features.

To anyone unfamiliar with him, he appeared calm.

Composed.

Unshaken.

Only those who had served beside him for years could see the truth.

The slight tension in his shoulders.

The exhaustion hidden behind his blue eyes.

The countless sleepless nights.

Every route marked on the map had already been considered.

Every possible strategy had already been calculated.

Every possibility ended the same way.

Failure.

Not because the enemy commander was superior.

Not because his army was weak.

But because someone always knew.

Every movement.

Every order.

Every plan.

Someone was feeding information to the enemy.

And there was nothing more dangerous than an enemy hidden among your own people.

Cassian's fingers tightened slightly against the edge of the table.

The movement was small enough that no one noticed.

No one except himself.

How amusing.

The enemy beyond the battlefield was easier to understand than the enemies within his own empire.

A bitter thought.

One he immediately discarded.

There was no room for bitterness.

Not now.

Not when thousands of lives rested upon his next decision.

"Your Highness?"

Cassian looked up.

General Rowan's expression had grown increasingly concerned.

"The men are waiting."

Waiting.

For orders.

For hope.

For a miracle.

Cassian could provide only one of those things.

And it certainly wasn't a miracle.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, something caught his attention.

A flash of pale silver beyond the tent entrance.

His gaze shifted instinctively.

Toward the ancient tree standing near the edge of the camp.

For a moment, he thought it was moonlight caught between the branches.

Then it moved.

Cassian stilled.

Perched upon one of the highest branches sat a bird.

A raven.

At least, it resembled one.

Yet no raven should possess feathers that color.

Moon-white.

Each feather seemed woven from strands of silver beneath the fading evening light.

Large.

Far larger than any raven he had ever seen.

And watching him.

Not the camp.

Not the soldiers.

Him.

Green eyes touched with faint gold met his own across the distance.

Unblinking.

Intelligent.

Ancient.

For a brief moment, the noise of the tent disappeared.

The arguments.

The war.

The hunger.

The endless pressure crushing against his chest.

All of it faded.

Only the bird remained.

Watching.

As though it had discovered something mildly interesting.

"Your Highness?"

The voice broke the strange moment.

Cassian blinked.

The tent returned.

The generals were staring at him.

Waiting.

He glanced back toward the tree.

The branch was empty.

The white raven had vanished.

Without a trace.

A strange feeling settled in his chest.

Not disappointment.

Not relief.

Something else.

Something he couldn't quite name.

For the first time in many days, however, his thoughts were no longer fixed entirely on war.

Instead, they lingered on a pair of green-gold eyes.

Chapter 2: A Curious Sight

The white raven remained perched upon the highest branch long after the Crown Prince had returned his attention to the war council.

The camp below was heavy with despair.

Even from this distance, Caelum could hear the strained voices of commanders arguing over strategies that would change nothing.

Humans were fascinating creatures.

They would continue struggling even after the outcome had become obvious.

His green-gold eyes drifted toward the command tent.

The black-haired prince stood at the center of the gathering, surrounded by generals and maps.

Unlike the others, he did not waste his energy shouting.

He simply listened.

Calculated.

Endured.

Caelum tilted his head.

Interesting.

Over the centuries, he had watched countless rulers rise and fall.

Kings.

Emperors.

Conquerors.

Tyrants.

Some had possessed overwhelming strength.

Others had ruled through fear.

Most had eventually become dust beneath the passage of time.

The Crown Prince below was no different.

One day, he too would vanish.

Yet something about him held Caelum's attention.

Not his title.

Not his appearance.

Certainly not his power.

The human was tired.

Caelum could see it clearly.

Not the exhaustion of a sleepless night.

Not the fatigue of a battlefield.

This was the weariness of someone who had been fighting for far too long.

A man surrounded by enemies.

A man who trusted no one.

And yet he continued moving forward.

Strange.

Most humans broke long before reaching this point.

A cold breeze brushed through the trees.

The raven's silver-white feathers shifted beneath the wind.

Below, the Crown Prince finally dismissed the meeting.

The generals departed one by one.

The camp slowly settled into uneasy silence.

Caelum watched as Cassian remained alone inside the tent.

The prince lowered himself into a chair.

For several moments, he simply sat there.

Motionless.

As though the weight of the entire battlefield rested upon his shoulders.

Perhaps it did.

The raven's gaze lingered.

Longer than it should have.

Longer than it ever had on any human.

At last, Caelum spread his wings.

Moonlight gleamed across his feathers.

He rose from the branch without a sound.

As he disappeared into the darkness, a single thought crossed his mind.

Interesting.

Perhaps I shall watch a little longer.

Caelum the white raven or so he looked ….

Generally raven's the omen of death are pitched black, but he had silver feathers like created from moonlight eyes which glistened like jewel jade green surrounded and a tint of gold ..

Nobody could say that it's a raven

He was breathtakingly beautiful as if the most beloved of Goddess Aurelia the Goddess of Beauty, Wisdom, prosperity...

Many thought that when they 1st laid eyes on Caelum but then they shrugged off this thought afterall no matter how breathtaking a raven is still a raven

But there was someone who shared a very different view the Crown Prince Cassian Lucien Valmont for him .. Caelum was the very meaning of Beauty ..he never thought something was beautiful in life it was the first and last time ..

Chapter 3: An Uninvited Advisor

Morning arrived with tension hanging heavily over the military camp.

Scouts had yet to return.

Food supplies continued to dwindle.

Every passing hour brought them closer to disaster.

Inside the command tent, several commanders stood gathered around a large battlefield map.

The atmosphere was grim.

"If the enemy advances from the western pass, we will be trapped."

"And if they attack from the south?"

"We will lose our remaining supply route."

Neither option was acceptable.

Neither option offered victory.

At the head of the table, Crown Prince Cassian listened in silence.

The arguments blurred together.

Every strategy eventually reached the same conclusion.

Failure.

Then a shout came from outside.

"Something's approaching!"

Instantly, swords left their sheaths.

Several knights rushed toward the entrance.

The Night Captain stepped forward.

"What is it?"

"A beast!"

The tent erupted into movement.

Hands moved toward weapons.

Commanders instinctively stepped closer to the Crown Prince.

A moment later, a flash of white swept through the entrance.

A large bird landed directly upon the war table.

Silence.

The creature was even larger up close.

Its feathers shimmered like woven silver.

Its eyes, green touched with gold, swept calmly across the room.

Not a trace of fear could be found within them.

One knight immediately drew his bow.

"I've never seen such a beast before."

Another nodded.

"It could be dangerous."

"Should we kill it?"

The Night Captain's hand settled on his sword.

The raven ignored them all.

Completely.

As though armed humans were no more significant than blades of grass.

Cassian watched carefully.

For some reason, he recognized it immediately.

The bird from yesterday.

The same white raven.

The same impossible eyes.

The same unsettling intelligence.

The raven stepped forward.

One claw touched the battlefield map.

Then another.

The commanders stared.

"What is it doing?"

No one answered.

Even the raven seemed uninterested in explaining itself.

It lowered its head toward the map.

Studied it.

Then suddenly nudged one of the wooden markers with its claw.

The piece slid across the table.

Several generals frowned.

The bird adjusted another marker.

Then another.

A route.

A position.

A path through the mountains.

Silence filled the tent.

The raven stared at the arrangement for a moment.

Then it looked directly at Cassian.

As if asking whether he understood.

Cassian felt something strange tighten in his chest.

The bird held his gaze for several seconds.

Then, apparently satisfied, it spread its wings.

Before anyone could react, it launched itself into the air and vanished through the entrance.

The silence remained.

One commander finally spoke.

"...Did a bird just criticize our strategy?"

No one had an answer.

Not even Crown Prince Cassian Lucien Valmont.

Yet his eyes remained fixed upon the altered map.

For reasons he could not explain, he found himself considering the route the white raven had chosen.

Why he didn't know he just felt it deep down and herd his every sense scream that this is the one yes...