A soft rap at the door drew Talon from that fragile threshold of sleep. The sun was breaking up, its fingers creeping through the heavy-draped windows into his bedroom and reaching out in thin shoots of light across the waxed boards at his feet. He drew himself up, calculating and impassive, not even asking who it might be; one knock said all he had to hear.
"Come in," he said, his voice smooth but devoid of warmth.
The door creaked open, and there stood Irena, his servant, clutching her ever-present notebook. Her meticulous demeanor exuded efficiency as she entered, bowing slightly before she began to speak.
"Master Revas," she started, her voice full of ceremony, "the pawns on the chessboard have been placed with meticulous care. Noryn's pawn complex is beginning to reveal the faintest cracks, evidence of the whispers strategically placed within them. Iren Karros has been stirred to answer the lesser martial guilds in a move to obtain mastery, gathering his troops for battle. Lira Esthalis is losing her grip on the council, for her key supporters have mysteriously withdrawn their backing."
Talon sat up fluidly, slipped into his black overcoat, and pronounced, "Good," with his voice perfectly matching the satisfaction etched on his features, a glint of mischief lighting up his eye. "It is time to let them reveal their strategy while we maintain control of the game."
Irena sighed, then stopped and continued again: "But some kind of smoldering still remains in the heads of the neutral factions. They can unite against your influence if the rivals decide to merge."
Talon departed for his desk. He pulled out a letter opener extravagantly carved from the drawer. He turned it pensively in his fingers, admiring the sharp edge. "Rebellion can be used. Fear can be mobilized. They will mobilize, but not against me. See to it that all the contingency plans are ready."
"I'll obey your command, Irena said, her haughty expression subtly laced with a touch of admiration.".
---
The Mentarch University campus churned by as Talon crossed the central courtyard. There was something magnetic to him, yet foreboding, so the students sidestepped him without looking up. He kept the air heavily balanced with his aura; commanding without words.
Subtle, yet calculated meticulously-a silent tenet of Talon's plan. He ordained his competitors to be against each other and planted his precious scripts within their private interests and vulnerabilities.
Noryn Vyrnos.
Talon entered the library to find Noryn ensconced in his corner, surrounded by a few fervent hangers-on. For that instant, at least, he was the benevolent mentor, speaking soothing words laced with implicit orders.
There came Talon, thundering. The room stopped its racket when he halted a few paces from Noryn's table.
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"Noryn," Talon began, his voice chillingly cold. "I see you fidgeting with the pieces again. But you've gone a bit too far. So, tell me, how does it feel to lead pawns who no longer believe in their king?"
Noryn's smile was cut off, but he controlled himself to calm down immediately. "And you, Talon, will still play the role of a shadow that calls all shots? Shadows are fragile when shown naked light."
Talon leaned forward. His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "A king on a broken throne remains vulnerable to the shadows. Always remember to protect your back, Noryn. The light may not always be with you." In total silence, Talon turned and walked away, leaving Noryn to grapple with the weight of his foreboding, prophetic warning.
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Iren Karros
In the martial arts training hall, thudding of punches landing into padded pads filled the air. Stern barked calls from instructors punctuated the noise. But in this ruckus was Iren Karros, chiseling his body totally riper as he threw particularly impressive jabs of Kyokushin punches. Talon slipped inside unsuspectingly, his eyes on Iren. And in the moment their gazes finally entwined, the noise of the hall receded for one beat of a heart.
"Iren," Talon said, his voice breaking through the silence.
Talon Revas, the self-proclaimed strongest fighter, smirked at me as he wiped sweat from his brow. "Finally come to test those fancy techniques of yours? Or are you just here to watch greatness?"
Talon’s expression remained a mystery. "Strength is fleeting without strategy. I’m not here to test my techniques; I’m here to test your patience. Let’s see how long your reign will endure when your enemies come knocking at your door."
Iren's grin was replaced by a frown. "You speak loud and clear, Revas. But words will not win a battle. Fist will."
Talon steps forward. His voice is low. "You will soon see this, that fists are but merely tools. Tools break."
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Lira Esthalis
Daylight was warm across the poised figure of Lira Esthalis as she stood confidently at center stage of the student council chamber. Her beauty and charisma enthralled everyone; her words flowed like honey from a knife.
He leaned against the doorway, observing how she could effortlessly weave her influence. He waited until she'd had her say, then went inside and applauded slowly. "Impressive," he said, voice dripping with a little mockery. "But honey draws flies, not power.
Tell me, Lira, how many of your ardent fans will stick around when the sugar dries out?".
She turned to him, her countenance calm yet wary. "And what do you really know about loyalty, Talon?" You rule by fear, not regard. That's a foundation upon the sand. Talon's head tilted a little. He had an amused look and glinting eyes. "Fear is a more reliable emotion than love. Love fails, respect wavers, but fear persists. You should try it sometime." Their tension crackled like an electrical storm just waiting to break, but neither made the first move.
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As the sun reached its zenith over campus, casting a chill light in every direction, Irena chanced on herself in the shadowy study of Talon. Candlelight flickered and danced around her and seemed to accentuate her poised demeanor as she handed him a meticulously organized report. Talon sat at his imposing desk, beginning to scrutinize the pages, methodically scanning the carefully documented statistics of his strategic maneuvers.
"The destabilization level of the inner circle of Noryn reaches up to seventy percent," Irena said. "Iren Karros's group is too stretched out and is being overrun by senseless fighting. Lira Esthalis lost two of her strongest members of the council. The neutral groups are now faltering toward defeat, but there is still a whiff of resistance. It's just a matter of time."
Talon closed the report with slow, measured care; the soft creak of the binding the only sound in the still room. His piercing eyes locked on Irena.
"Good,' he said, his voice cold but full of an unquiet depth of portent. 'He stands.' He rose to his feet, and in the flickering shadows, he was transformed into something shimmering and beautiful, dangerous.
He stepped closer to the window to look out at the rolling acres of university grounds, a world below that knew nothing of the tightening web surrounding it. The rustling of papers behind him told him Irena sat quietly there, waiting for that last word.
Then Talon spoke in low and haunted tones, words falling like a dark hymn into stillness:
"From ashes of trust, the throne shall rise;
In shadows deep, ambition lies.
The weak shall crumble, the strong shall bend,
And thus begins the path to end."
His words dripped with foreboding, heavier than lead weights in the air. Not looking back, he dismissed Irena with a subtle wave of his hand. The servant slinked away into the darkness as Talon wrestled with his thoughts alone. Candlelight danced across his face, yet not a glimmer of emotion could be seen there, only the taste of cold, steely resolve.
Thus, the first steps to victory were taken, and with each such purposeful step, he was laying the foundation for an unconditional dominance over the world, which would soon submit to his supremacy.