"For you to have gotten here so fast, you'd have needed to fly," he said to the messenger. "This must have been written before the battle even started this morning." The messenger smirked. "I was handed two letters. One was for victory, the other defeat." Bold--this messenger was bold, and arrogant, for someone at Darrow's beck and call. "What's your name?" "Nox Owen." The messenger bowed at the waist. "From Perranth."