Surprisingly, Stefen sought them out first, sending a page with a request for an Audience.
"Bard Stefen," Treven greeted him formally.
"Your Majesty," Stefen bowed.
"I was glad to hear of your safe return."
Stefen simply nodded.
"Please phrase your request in front of Crown and court," Treven continued, invoking the formal audience procedure.
Clearly, Stefen appreciated the formality, as he stood straighter and replied:
"I have a project—an important project, bequeathed to me by the late Herald-Mage Vanyel Ashkevron, upon our last meeting together."
Treven's eyes widened, the only part of him showing any reaction, and Jisa thanked the Havens for her facial control. He's never spoken to any of us about their last moments together.
"Even post-mortem, Herald Vanyel's word holds sway in this Kingdom," Treven said gravely. "We will hear your project."
Inclining his head, Stefen spoke, "He believed that Valdemar suffered from a lack of morale—that we had lost a bit of our identity, our faith in our Heralds and in our purpose. Over the years, the people have come to idolize the notion of magic and believe that we are lost without it."
Murmurs circled around the Court. Stefen thought he heard one: "And what good's one Bard?"
Firming his jaw, he continued. "I share Herald Vanyel's opinion. As such, I wish to be assigned to the Karsite border to offer whatever small help a Bard can, in music and voice. Any Bards who wish to join me—who believe in this quest, of sorts, and who believe in Herald Vanyel's words—are more than welcome."
Silence greeted his words, along with more scattered muttering. Jisa and Treven exchanged an unreadable glance, then Treven, favoring him with a slight smile, nodded.
"Bard Stefen, we grant your request. You are hereby assigned to Karsite Border Sector 7, with Healer status. Supplies shall be provided for your journey." Pausing, Treven looked around the Crown room. "Let it be known that the Crown, too, believes in Herald Vanyel's words and the power of this nation's Bards. We back Stefen and any who wish to join him fully."
"Foolishness," one aging Councilor whispered loudly to his neighbor.
Jisa shot him a sharp glance. "You may believe this quest is foolish and unworthy of the crown's time, Lord Redoran, but you are sadly mistaken. Our armies labor under a sky clouded dark with despair in Karse, unable to see even the barest hope of success. Without hope, we can never win this war." Shifting her gaze to Stefen, she let her features relax.
"May the Gods speed your travel, Bard Stefen, and Fortune smile upon you."