A shiver from the night air scantly distracted Talon's thoughts. He gazed up at the ceiling, reliving events of the past few days—stand-off with Serak and that little trick that broke him. A smile started spreading across Talon's lips. It must have been blind to believe in brute strength as the only thing to guarantee victory. But Talon knew a long time ago that real power comes in different forms: in strength of body, quick mind, and above all, ability to control others.
He sat up slowly, the shading cast by moonlight etching sharp lines on his face. It wasn't just Serak; it was others, much worse players, who were moving their pawns over a chessboard. But there was still one step ahead, still alert, always.
A gentle knock intruded upon his thoughts. It was Irena, that most trusted servant of his. She slipped in noiselessly, almost invisible, though a gleam in her eyes conveyed all he needed to know.
Master," she said, her voice like ice, "the university is changing. Your competitors are moving.".
Talon's left eyebrow shot up as a cruel smile spread across his lips. "Tell me."
And then Irena leaned in, her voice dropping. "Noryn Vyrnos. again, stirring up trouble with his game. He got people playing along with him, believing they controlled the game when, in reality, they were just playing by his rules. Too good at concealing his hand for most students to realize they're merely being played.
Talon's smile broadened. "Noryn believes he is a god. This is the mistake of men like him: they never feel the knife until it's in their back.".
"But that is not all," continued Irena. "Iren Karros is plotting something. He trains harder than ever before and boasts of such an honor, facing you squarely in the face. He has gathered support—people start to believe his idiocy that he is the university's strongest. He has mastered seven martial arts, and he is even worse than his brother."
Talon's face twisted at the mention of Iren. "Iren is a beast, nothing more," he sneered with a derogatory snort. "Seven martial arts? That means nothing if you don't know how to use it. He's just like Serak—eager to fight, yet foolish enough to get himself killed."
"And then there's Lira Esthalis." Irena paused as her thoughts temporarily suspended. "She's been active too, using her. talents. She's built a network, all of whom are entirely devoted to her. The men worship her, while the women either want to be her or want to see her brought low. She's dangerous, master. Far more so than you might have imagined." Talon's smile relaxed a little. Lira was different. Not just another manipulator like Noryn or another warrior like Iren. No, she knew to play the game from a different angle. She didn't make people bow down by intimidating them with their submission; she made people want to obey her desires.
"I'll deal with her in time," he said, his voice icy. "For now, let them play their games. I'll strike when they least expect it." Talon thinks back to middle school, where people taught him how to crush other people—not with brawn but with words, manipulation, and fear—as he watches Irena walk away.
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Flashback: Middle School Days: The Fall of Vektor
He was never the sturdiest boy in school back in middle school, but he was definitely the most dangerous. His strength lay not in his fists but in his mind. He learned very early that the brain is the sharpest weapon, and his manipulative streak had already begun to show.
Vektor was the biggest man at school—totally an asshole who thought he was bigger than he was. He bullied everyone—from the students to a few of the teachers. Talon watched him for months with huge interest. Vektor's attitude about his own strength was a ticking time bomb. But Talon had no fear; he could see the insecurities that lay under the surface that Vektor himself couldn't see.
The day Talon decided to destroy Vektor was no personal vendetta, but rather, he was curious to know how far he could push a person without lifting a finger.
-
The plans began vaguely through whispers down the corridors initially.
You hear of Vektor? He'd ask the random student or two, a casual smirk dancing across his face. Apparently, his friends thought he was an idiot or something. They just leave them alone out of fear.
People love scandal, especially if it is about someone they fear. It traveled like wildfire. By week's end, just about everyone was viewing Vektor through other eyes—those of a dumb animal on a short leash.
That was just the start.
Talon waited for that perfect moment; that moment came one fateful lunch when Vektor and his gang went to their customary table, which was circled by their ever-loyal sycophants. Vektor laughed happily, blissfully unaware of the subtle change that rippled through the room. All eyes now lay upon him, but this time it wasn't the same reverent light as before. Instead, they regarded him with a newfound wariness, wondering if the rumors had any truth in them.
Talon stood up, keeping his eyes on Vektor from across the cafeteria. He walked slowly, deliberately, towards him. All the room was silent in expectation of what was to come. Vektor looked his way, smirking as if he already knew whom he could target as an example.
"Revas," Vektor sneered, slumping back into his chair. "Got lost or looking for a kick in the ass?"
Talon barely batted an eyelid. He stepped a few feet away from Vektor's table, his smile chilly and unfriendly.
"You know, Vektor," Talon whispered softly. His voice was soothing and soothing. "It is rather fascinating. For someone so totally consumed by the desire to be on top, you seem blissfully unaware of just how many people are laughing at you when you're not looking."
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
The cafeteria was silent. There was a flicker of Vektor's expression—jjust a moment. He was good at hiding it, but Talon saw the crack.
"What are you talking of, Revas? Vektor snarled, coming forward, his fists clenched.
He did not flinch. He looked at Vektor's friends, now growing irritable even further. "Ask them," he continued with the sneer-like grin. "I mean, they've been running their mouths about how you are their little attack dog, doing all the dirty work because you're too fucking dumb to understand what is actually going on."
Vektor caught the eyes of his mates—Brayden, Milo, and Caz—each of whom was looking as if he would like to burrow under a table. Weeks had passed since Talon began seeding doubt in each of them, pushing them gently away from Vektor and inciting them to question their loyalty to a man who would dump them in an instant when his power started crumbling.
“They don’t respect you,” Talon went on, his voice sinking to a perilous whisper. “They never did. You’re merely a damned tool to them. Yet you’re too blind to realize it.”
His face turned red with rage, but Talon could see it—the confusion, the perplexity. Vektor's thoughts were coming apart at the seams.
"You filthy lying shit," Vektor spat, standing up to his towering over Talon. "They wouldn't do that. They wouldn't.".
He looked at his friends but could see not even one pair of eyes. He pulled his fist together and knew the truth.
"Brayden, tell him he's full of it," Vektor insisted, growing toward panic.
Brayden's mouth opened, but no words came out. Milo was staring down at the floor as Caz started to backpedal, moving away from the pending explosion.
Talon leaned closer, his voice low yet laced with malice. "Do you see, Vektor? This is the consequence of constructing your entire existence on fear. The instant they detect any sign of weakness, they will betray you, just like the vermin they truly are."
Vektor's eyes flamed up in fury, but he had nowhere to put it. His world was falling apart, and Talon said less than a dozen words. The silent cafeteria stared in shock as Vektor's hold on his reality snapped before their eyes.
"YOU. YOU FILTHY PRICK! Vektor bellowed, his hand striking out toward Talon.
But Talon stepped back. He did not need to. Just as Vektor's fist connected, Milo gripped his arm.
"Vektor, stop!" Milo shouted, a shudder of fear streaking his voice. "Don't do it, man. He's trying to set you up!"
That was the final nail in the coffin.
Vektor’s head snapped toward Milo, his eyes wild with rage and betrayal. "You. You’re with him?!" Milo stepped back, his face pale. "No, no, I just—" Before Vektor was in a position to continue his sentence, he spun around, launching an extremely hard punch that slammed Milo to the floor. Brayden and Caz stood and backed away rapidly, fearing they would be caught in the fray. The cafeteria erupted into a tumultuous chaos. Teachers hurried over, attempting to separate Vektor as he screamed at Milo, his voice breaking under the weight of anger and desperation. "You fucking traitor! You’re all fucking traitors!" He stepped back and watched as the drama played out behind his lips, twisted into a smirking grin. Not once laying so much as one hand on Vektor, he totally destroyed him before the entire school. The reign of terror of Vektor had finally come to an end—not through bruises or shaken bodies, but because Talon had torn him from the inside out. As teachers yanked Vektor away, screaming and kicking, Talon spun and strode out of the cafeteria, whispers of awe and fear going with him. He didn't have to fight. He didn't have to be the strongest. He had only to be more cunning than the others.
Present day
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Talon stood in the windowed library of the university, peering out across the sea buildings and rooms and open areas below. The room was silent except for the soft rustle of papers and muffled whispers between students. But Talon's thoughts were elsewhere, processing and calculating. He was always so far ahead of those around him.
That was until Noryn Vyrnos entered the scene.
The air grew thick with tension the minute he walked in. Noryn stood as tall as Talon, but he was leaner, his sharp features giving him almost a reptilian look. His cold, grey eyes always appeared to be calculating who was next to be manipulated. Today, they were riveted on Talon.
"Well, if it isn't the almighty Talon Revas," Noryn sneered with a grin as he walked up on him. "Still playing the game of being better than the rest of us?"
No word left Talon's lips. He'd let Noryn move one step closer, and for those few moments, he had gained the advantage. It was their game, an unspoken dance of dominance and strategy. Finally, Talon turned to him, his face unreadable.
"Noryn," Talon said, his voice even and slow. "I see you still play chess with the lives of others."
Noryn smiled softly, his teeth growing wider. "You talk of it as if you should shudder to hear its name. You well know that this world is like a vast chessboard. And everyone—everyone—is only a piece to be moved, manipulated, and sacrificed when the occasion demands.".
Talon's eyes narrowed just that fraction, but he controlled himself. "Everyone, is it?" His voice dropped into a low, menacing murmur. "Really, is that what you think you are doing to me? Shuffling me around like one of your pieces."
Noryn stepped closer, his smirk broadening as confidence radiated from him. “Oh, Talon. You’re not a pawn. You’re a goddamn king. But even kings can be outmaneuvered when they fail to grasp the bigger picture."
Talon's lips curled up with a slight upward curve—almost a smirk. "And just what," he asked, "is the 'bigger picture' as you see it? A magnificent scheme in which you emerge victorious, pulling all the strings?
Noryn sat back a quarter inch, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Something like that," he said. "You see, Talon, while you've been out there shattering bones and making people quake in terror with your martial arts bravado, I've been working hard in the shadows. Cultivating alliances. Manipulating loyalties. This isn't just a competition of brawn. It's a game of wits, of strategy, of finesse. So I will win. Not because I'm stronger. Because I am unmistakably smarter.".
Talon held his gaze, unblinking. "Smarter, huh? Is that what you tell yourself when you’re jerking off to your own reflection? That you're so fucking clever because you convinced a few weak-minded idiots to do your bidding?"
Anger shot through Noryn's eyes, but his smirk would not leave. "You boast a great deal, Talon," he said. "But the fact of the matter is—this is where it ends—your power. Yes, you can hammer someone into oblivion, but can you really control anyone's mind? Can you make them think they're in control when all along you are pulling the strings? Talon took a deep breath, his voice low, but the edge of danger was really easy to hear there. "You are so into this whole control thing, Noryn. But controlling isn't dancing for people. It's possessing them. When I break a person, they stay broken. You? You just move the pieces around, hoping they'll never find out your game before it's all over." Noryn's smile flickered for just a moment, but he regained himself and smoothed his hair, leaning against the bookshelf with casual ease that seemed entirely incongruous with the tension hanging in the air. "I don't think you intimidate me, Talon." He shrugged with careless freedom. "Do you really think your little 'dark manipulation' tricks are going to scare me? I've met your type before. All brawn, no brains. You're completely predictable. And predictability? That's a death sentence in our game."
Talon raised one eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Predictable, is it? That's why you have lost your cool every time I enter a room? Because I'm so delightfully predictable?
Noryn laughed low, dark. "Oh, please. You don't intimidate me, Talon. You're just. a challenge. An obstacle to be hurdled. And I will hurdle you. Bit by bit. Not with force, but in consideration. Make your friends turn on you. Turn their loyalties. Plant it in them. So that when you can see that it's happening, it'll be far too fucking late."
Talon's eyes glittered with darkness and danger.
He advanced by a step, throwing his own shadow over Noryn.
"You talk too much, Noryn. That's the sad problem with you. You think because you are great at games, you're going to be able to talk your way out of anything. Well, here's the thing: I've been watching you. Every move you make, every word you say, every little manipulation you went through in order to play inside this university. I know your damn patterns. And when the time comes? I'm going to take you down, not with some kind of sledgehammer but with the very same mind games you consider yourself so good at." And the sneer falters again into a plainer reply: "You think you can outwit me?"
Talon had stepped closer, his voice not more than a whisper over malice. "I don't think, Noryn. I freaking know. You see, you've already lost. You just don't know it yet."
Noryn blinks, and with the seed of doubt, his confidence begins to take hold. "What in the world do you have to say?"
Talon sat up. A grin haunted his lips. "You're not the only puppeteer here, Noryn. You've been so drunk on your chess games; I was playing at a whole different end. Rules are written in my favor, after all. And now? Checkmate, motherfucker."
Across Noryn's face flashed the first panic, and his eyes snapped wide. "What did you—
"I need to explain nothing to you," Talon cut in sharply. "But let's just say. Your allies are fewer than you believe. And the ones you do possess? Well, they're not as loyal as you'd hoped." Noryn's breath caught in his throat, and his face went white. For the first time in his life, he was out of control. He no longer ruled the strings. He had been manipulated—the very man he had thought was beneath him. "You son of a damn bitch," Noryn whispered, his voice shaking with barely controlled rage. Talon smirked, stepping back and turning towards the door. "You’re right about one thing, Noryn. This is a fucking chess game. But you’re the one who’s been played." Without one more word, Talon departed the room to stand there himself, thinking furiously and having his world crumble around him.