Castle Alvric, Farryn. Secret chamber of the Alvric Council.

“Did we get it, Eskan?”

“Aye, Patriarch, the merchant we ambushed had quite a lot on him.”

“How many?”

“Fifteen.”

“That's a lot,” Filip Alvric, the 1st Elder said, surprised.

“Let me see,” said the Patriarch as he gestured with his hands.

Elder Eskan nodded fanatically, smiling with glee. He provided a small pouch from his spatial ring, reaching across from his seat on the other side of the redwood table, and handed it over to the Patriarch.

Nolan Alvric, seated on a raised dais, received the pouch and unsealed it producing a blue gem.

“Huh!” he gasped, and the rest of the Elders present leaned in to get a good look at the gem, dragging long plaited red-brown beards across the table.

“Heavens above, it is larger than the last one we got!” The 2nd Elder, Fredrik Alvric, spoke excitedly, his full beard joining in the excitement.

“Blue heart gem, or as we call it—Soul fire gem,” the Patriarch of the Alvric clan, Nolan Alvric, spoke in awe. “Vorthe wastes its potential, using it for manufacturing firecrackers and matchsticks.”

He held up the Soul fire gem and it caught the light of the sun, reflecting it around the chamber. The red drapes of the chamber were bathed in a moment’s glitter of dark blue light giving the chamber a dreamy appearance.

“But the true potential of this beauty is unimaginable,” Nolan Alvric said.

“Ahem,” Filip Alvric, the 1st Elder drew the attention of the Patriarch. “Forgiveness Patriarch, but the Ancient One requires the Soul fire gem more than we do.”

“Hmm,” the Patriarch frowned, placing the gem carefully in its pouch. He handed over the pouch to Elder Eskan, who handed it to Filip Alvric.

You are nothing more than a glorified babysitter. One of these days Filip, he grumbled inwardly. “Anders?”

“Yes, Patriarch,” Anders Alvric stood up ceremoniously to speak, his flamboyant robes flowing around him. He was the youngest Elder among the Alvric Council. And so was still riding on the high of taking the lofty position of Elder — hence the glamorous layers of flamboyant robes.

“Our spies are yet to discover anything new happening in the Royal Estate, though there were signs of an estate-wide renovation, none of them could glimpse the reason behind it,” Anders said.

“The Ancient One advises against spying on the Royals, Patriarch — with good reason,” the 1st Elder said with great concern.

“If we are to break loose of their hold, Filip, we need information. If you have got a better way to bring it, I’m all ears!” the Patriarch shot back.

The 1st Elder, Filip Alvric, shook his head. “With a Transcendent as the Sovereign of Vorthe, spying on them is next to impossible.”

“Why do you speak like an outsider, Filip!” the Patriarch roared angrily, standing up from his seat. “We Alvrics have existed in this land seventeen generations before the 1st Vorthe ever was born! Yet they shackle us to this city like sheaves of corn stacked upon each other, suppressing our growth! We are Alvrics, damn it!”

“Calm your wrath, Nolan,” the 1st Elder warned. He was a much older Sage compared to Nolan Alvric. The graying hairs at his temples were sign enough. His switching to first name basis meant he was riled up. “The Argonaut curled up in fright at the sight of the 1st Vorthe eons ago. Our legacy. Our inheritance. The very reason Alvric stands to this day!

“It curled up in fright before one man. The same Argonaut who imprisoned Shar’tu in the sky, swallowed whole, N’tdaea and his sea dragon. Until he ascends, Nolan, I suggest we wait!”

“Aye,” the Patriarch accepted unwillingly. “At least we can make plans, no?”

The tension in the room abated a little.

“Aye, I second the 1st Elder’s decision to wait,” the 2nd Elder, Fredrik Alvric said.

Nolan Alvric looked around the table and everyone seemed to be nodding their accent.

“Here me out then. We’ve left this matter unattended for too long, partly because there was nothing to use against Vorthe. But I’ve discovered a deep-seated secret in the land of Vorthe,” he said, piquing their interest. “How many of you know how Tormar was destroyed?”

“The city of Tormar? The mining city?” Anders Alvric asked, confused. As the youngest sage in the Alvric Council, he lacked the knowledge and experience the others thrived on.

“It once was destroyed, aye,” Eskan Alvric, the 3rd Elder said, caressing his beard as he brought him up to speed, “400 years ago, was it?”

“The Royals say it was a mining accident of sorts,” Nolan picked up where Eskan stopped. “To this day, there has been no apparent reason for how it happened. But I found clues. Hidden in The Annals of House Tarmin.” Nolan Alvric looked around the table once more to make sure he had their attention.

“Someone wrote of a creature that looks like a man—a demon. Only by chance, was it seen flying westward from the mountain range,” he continued.

“How did someone from the House of Steel see something so far from the south?” Eskan asked doubtfully.

The others began grumbling their unbelief, but Nolan was unfazed. He came prepared and began laying out evidence in the form of written scrolls on the table.

“Where did you get all this?” Fredrik asked.

“Ahem,” the Patriarch looked away.

“Nolan?” the 1st Elder called out, his sharp gaze focusing on the Patriarch like the edge of a blade. “I demand you tell us where you found all these,” he said as the other Elders picked up scrolls with writing dating back tens of thousands of years.

Although these writings were old and looked to be genuine testimonies of sightings of a beast or demon, they were at best, myths from tales of times past.

“I had my spies gather them for me,” Nolan said.

“Gather?” the 1st Elder asked.

“Hmm,” the Patriarch grumbled. “My point is, the demon always comes from one place and goes back thus—the mountain range. “And clearly the Royal family knows about this. Perhaps it’s a weapon they use to silence people.”

“Listen to yourself Nolan, you sound absurd!” Filip spat.

“Do you have something better? Have you seen or heard of the demon?” the Patriarch rebutted.

“No, Nolan. And that’s because it doesn’t exist!”

“Oh, it does exist Filip, and you never heard of it because the Royal family doesn’t want you to!”

The very tension inside the chamber began to rise again as the two Sages spat at each other.

“I know you long for battle, Nolan. For the glorious wars of ages past. But do not forget you swore an oath—to provide,” he ripped a scroll into pieces, “and help the family thrive.”

Filip picked up another and was about to rip it apart, but the Patriarch held his hand. “I also swore another,” he said, looking the 1st Elder in the eyes. “To free us all from Vorthe's leash! We stay here in this land, while our people, our armies down south grow weaker without purpose.”

“Without a conquest, you mean,” the 1st Elder said.

“Do you not see how soft our people have become?”

The rest of the Elders in the room grumbled at that as they browsed through the scrolls. They had become used to seeing this scene every time they held Council. They just sat back and enjoyed the show.

“Yes, we were allowed to keep our lands. I know,” Nolan raised a hand to stop the 1st Elder from interrupting him.

“But our children and elites must now be raised in Farryn, instead of back in their homeland where they can grow up in tradition, in the wild where they belong.”

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“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Nolan, that’s why the Vorthes organize events like Pilgrims’ Keep.”

“Aye, where my son was beaten to a pulp by a twelve-year-old.”

“Who’s dead, remember? Which is a shame. Probably would have flourished in Alvric hands.”

“He speaks and acts like a muggle now! Tell me, Filip, how is this of benefit to our creed?!” the Patriarch gestured at the air with his hands.

“You forget you were raised here as well, Nolan, and you turned out quite well I must say, with a hard-steel head on your neck, and a never-rusting brazen tongue!”

The Patriarch raised his hand in defeat. “I’ve had enough, you all can go through the scrolls. It is evidence enough the beast exists. I plan to capture it—”

“Nolan, have you gone mad?!” the 1st Elder snapped, “You plan to spend family resources chasing a three-headed horse?!”

Nolan Alvric shoved a memory crystal into his hand. “View the memory in it. It didn’t come cheap, so restrain yourself.”

Without the assent of the 1st Elder, Nolan Vorthe could do nothing. He had to convince Filip that the beast wasn’t a fairytale.

“Heavens above!” the 1st Elder exclaimed after a few breaths. He looked up at the Patriarch in surprise. The other Elders saw this and became curious to see what the 1st Elder had seen.

“If I may, Elder Filip,” the 2nd Elder, Fredrik Alvric, requested the memory stone. The moment he poured his perception into it, the world transformed around him.

We embarked on a mission toward the mountain range to find rare ores for the smithy. Caed had heard rumors of a bootleg market in Giza.

From Giza, we followed crumbs of rumors that led us to the northern mountains. Aye, t’was a thrilling moment when we found signs of the black ore.

The cold earth beneath our boots did not deter us from digging up our find. I was the digger for our little mission, for I was better at wielding earth essence. After digging 20 feet deep, the ore came into view.

A very large piece of black ore — a motherload!

We cried out in joy and excitement, but the next thing we knew someone screamed! Our jubilation was cut short as we noticed one of ours was missing—Dowen, it was.

My brothers above ground drew their weapons ready to do battle. But another was taken all of a sudden, his scream could be heard far in the distance.

“Why does the night seem darker than usual?” Cowen had asked, but he disappeared right after.

My heart nearly failed me for I knew death had come knocking. Whatever creature was out there, it was hunting us for sport. After the twins, Dowen and Cowen, it took Fitz, and Twice, now I alone remain.

The creature placed its blood-covered hand on the edge of the hole, black claws dripping with blood curled slowly for a firm grip. The hands were human but skeletal and horrifying!

Its face peeked into the hole and I wet me pants from what I saw. A demon. With gaunt features and fangs growing out its mouth. Its irises glowed the color of blood as it salivated at the sight of me.

I tried digging into the ground but I was paralyzed with fear and just sat there waiting for death—to be eaten.

The creature suddenly turned east and I could sense hesitation from it. Then fear. It flew away as the first rays of the sun peeked through the canopy of clouds.

“Incredible!” Fredrik Alvric exclaimed as he withdrew his perception from the memory stone. “There was something of this magnitude in Vorthe and no one knew of it?”

“There is something of this magnitude Fredrik,” the Patriarch corrected. “Filip?”

The 1st Elder looked to be in a dilemma. “Well, this does lend credence to your tale,” he muttered. He stood up to pace behind his chair as the remaining Elders scanned the memory stone. “500 high-grade crystal coins is all I can issue for this,” he said.

“That’s plenty much, Filip,” the Patriarch turned to Eskan. “We wait until time draws near for the opening of Vorthes Void World to bring in more men from the south, but put our people on standby.”

“Anders. Store the scrolls safely away. The memory crystal remains in my keeping,” the Patriarch said and rose, signaling the end of the meeting.

They all bundled out of the meeting chamber, talking about the upcoming new year’s celebration. After they were gone, the air by the side of the Patriarch’s raised dais rippled to reveal a woman clad in black leather from head to boot. She picked up a piece of the ripped scroll on the floor and evanesced.

~~~

Milena moved unhurriedly, yet unseen through crowds of Alvric. Their conduct in their homes was one of chaos and turbulence. Every word from a mother had to be screamed over the top of burning lungs to be heard. Children played everywhere with no supervision from their mothers or betters. Young adults crashed into burning pots of food as they fenced — or learned to fence.

Isn’t that why we have kitchens? Milena chuckled to herself.

The Alvrics were too focused on the old, they miss the new. Time had left them behind in more ways than she cared to think of. She trudged along unhurriedly, looking from shadowy corner to corner, checking to see if there were any other spies around beside her.

After spending a little more time, she walked toward the high-walled fence of the Alvric castle and vaulted over.

~~~

“How was it,” Damien Vorthe asked as he leaned forward to pour them both some tea.

“It was fun to watch,” Milena said.

Damien paused. The way he paused made Milena feel like the tea pouring into the teacup, paused too—mid-air.

She breathed out a sigh of relief seeing it was not so. Damien was so unpredictable, one never knew what he’d pick up in a short moment of absence.

“Fun?” he asked as he sat back in his high-backed chair, his movements slow and relaxed.

They were in one of the chambers in his Palace. Milena was here to report her findings on her spying on the Alvrics to him.

“Hmm. They did find damning evidence about the Dark One,” she said.

“What did they find?”

“...is this an interrogation, Damien?”

Damien Vorthe calmly picked up his teacup and drank slowly.

“No,” he said.

“You don’t have to act so high and mighty around me, you know.”

“Milena, could you give your report… please?”

Milena smiled. “Most of it was old scrolls, but there was a memory stone. And all the Elders present viewed its content.”

Damien Vorthe nodded in thought. “It might be damning as you say—if they know how to use it to their advantage. The Alvrics have long since wanted to uproot Vorthe from this continent, but subtlety isn't their strong suit.”

“Or they just want to go back south,” Milena added.

“That would have dire political ramifications,” Damien stated.

“Like what.”

“...”

“I get that you see the big picture Damien and that I’m not a Vorthe, but we grew up together. Trained under the same master. Letting me in on a thing or two is how friends should act, isn’t it?” she said as she cupped her tea, blowing on the liquid in it.

Damien had no qualms telling her. Truly, Milena wasn’t a Vorthe. But her people, the Diviners, have been with Vorthe for as long as he could remember, playing the power game and keeping the other Great clans on their toes.

“You need to think outside the box, Milena. Vorthe isn’t the only superpower on the continent. If we show weakness or split up into factions of what we are now, other parties would swoop in and use them against us.”

Milena thought about it carefully. She was a straightforward woman, and even though she had been alive for almost as long as Damien, she neither liked nor understood politics. As long as she got to do what she loved best and take good care of her family, she was okay. Speaking of family…

“Your fated Dark One is a pervert.”

Damien sighed and put down his cup.

“He was checking out my daughter. Can you imagine that?”

Damien was a bit frustrated. This woman wasn’t as subtle with conversation as with assassinations. If there was one thing Damien envied about her, it was her simple nature. And her ability to pick up on trending slang among youths.

“If I catch him staring at her…” she didn’t want to say the word, “...next time, I’m gonna pluck out his eyes, you hear me?”

“If you have nothing else to say about the mission, good day, Milena.”

“They’re smuggling southerners here during the opening of Terra Praeta,” she picked up her teacup and took a sip. “Perhaps to search for your demon.”

“Do they know it’s Terra Praeta?”

“No, but Nolan also said to put their people on standby.”

“Are they preparing for a war?” The Master of Shadows asked.

“Perhaps,” Milena said, taking another sip and rested in her high-backed chair. “But whatever move they would make against Vorthe would be after the Patriarch ascends.”

No Vorthe had ever truly ascended. But there was no need to give out that information.

“And the Blue Heart Gem?”

“What they stole is but a drop in the ocean, but I must ask,” she said, sitting up and picking up her cup. “Why do you allow them to steal it?”

Damien smiled a knowing smile. “Suffice it to say that it is an experiment.”

“You do know what’ll happen to their Saint eventually if he inhales it for too long, right?” she said, looking questioningly at him.

“Don’t look at me that way, Milena, I’m not a black-hearted Sage,” Damien retorted. “We didn’t choose this recourse, he did. We just let him have it.”

Milena shrugged. It wasn’t her concern if a Great family lost their Saint.

“Thank you for your service, Milena.”

“Ahem, where’s Erika?” she asked, hesitantly.

“Busy.”

Milena eyed Damien with a long stare. “She wouldn’t be up in the solar, would she?”

Damien Vorthe waved his hand above his teacup to heat it up a little, ignoring her question.

“Of course she is,” Milena snorted.

“I designed the place mainly for her work, Milena,” Damien said. “She doesn’t want to be disturbed when busy with her research.”

Milena stood up smiling, “I should say hi.”

“Good day, Milena.”

~~~

“85…86…87…”

Jerome tried to push himself further but his hands gave out.

“You’re doing great,” Rihal said as Jerome stood up to wipe the sweat off his brows.

“No, I’m not. I thought this would be easier, but it seems I was too optimistic,” he drank from a waterskin beside him.

“Optimism is a good thing,” Rihal said as he stood up.

Jerome hated these slow days. He wished he could be on the road searching for his family, but his injuries wouldn’t allow him.

They exited Kilian’s training hall to go for a walk. Jerome’s muscles were atrophied and he needed as much exercise as he could get to get in shape.

One of these days Hedon. He thought.

“What were you doing in there?” Layla asked as she walked toward them.

“Training.”

Layla turned and bowed to Rihal, “Senior Rihal, he’s not supposed to be training.”

“You underestimate the human body and its capabilities, Layla.”

Layla observed Jerome as he took out a long stick from a storage bag in his robe and rested on it, his long hair cascading down his back. He looked aged, coupled with his gaunt looks. She couldn’t bear to see him undo all her hard work.

“It’s only been one cycle, at least wait four moons, maybe five,” she insisted.

“He doesn’t have that much time,” Rihal said mysteriously.

“Time for what?” The two Sprouts asked simultaneously.

“You’ll be going on an adventure soon, Jerome.”