As Aric's laughter faded, a soldier's voice interrupted from outside the tent.
"General," the man called with urgency, his breath visible in the cold night air. "Commander Yrsa has requested your presence."
Aric straightened, composing himself. "I'll be there shortly."
Pulling a cloak over his nightwear, he stepped out into the biting wind.
The moon hung low in the sky, casting a faint silver glow across the camp. Fires flickered in the distance, and the muffled sounds of soldiers at rest drifted through the quiet night. The cold gnawed at Aric's skin. Without his armor, it seemed to seep through him far more easily.
Upon reaching Yrsa's tent, he paused at the entrance before calling out, "Commander, may I enter?"
A smooth voice replied from within. "Come in, Aric."
He hesitated briefly. She had used his name, not his title.
Suppressing his surprise, he pushed the flap aside and stepped into the tent. Warmth struck him instantly, a welcome contrast to the harsh chill outside.
