“So, any ideas on who was behind your present predicament?” Jaeden asked.
Liandra sighed, glancing away as if the shadows held the answer. “Betrayal is part of the Council’s nature, but this... this was different. Someone wanted me gone - maybe one, maybe all of them. My dissent on certain decisions didn’t go unnoticed.” She paused, her voice dropping lower. “But I don’t know who. They took me in my sleep.”
Jaeden leaned back, rubbing his chin as he considered her words. “So, you’re saying you have no idea who sold you out. Not even a hunch?”
Liandra gave a slight shake of her head, frustration flaring in her eyes. “It could be anyone. Word of my objections might’ve spread… I don’t know. All I remember is falling asleep in my chambers, only to wake up here.” She grimaced, as if the memory alone tasted bitter.
Jaeden watched her carefully, eyes narrowing. “And they just waltzed in while you were asleep? Seems like a tall order for any regular folks. You’re no ordinary advisor.”
She bit her lip, hesitating, then sighed. “I was drugged, most likely through some alchemical mixture. The kind that can put even someone like me under without so much as a sound.” Her voice held a tinge of regret, mingling with the slight tremor of vulnerability that she tried to hide.
Jaeden’s brow furrowed as he processed this, his gaze drifting to the walls, cloaked in shadows that seemed to shift with their own secrets. "And this Lord of yours,” he said, voice softening slightly, “good person? Worth all this trouble?”
For the first time, her face softened completely, a faint, almost wistful smile pulling at her lips. “Yes,” she replied, nodding. "He’s… devoted to our people, to the realm. There’s no one I’d trust more.”
Jaeden raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Sounds like more than just trust there. You got a bit of a thing for him, huh?”
The question hit her like a slap; her cheeks flushed, and she stumbled over her words. “What? No! It’s nothing like that,” she blurted, eyes darting to the floor as if it might swallow her up. “I’m… merely his confidant. An advisor, as I told you.”
“Right,” Jaeden replied, chuckling, hands raised in mock surrender. “Just sayin’ - sounded like there was a touch of ‘devotion’ there, is all.” He winked, his teasing light but pointed.
Liandra huffed, trying to hide her embarrassment, but after a moment, she relented, gaze flickering away. “Fine,” she murmured. “I may have admired him… once. But it’s complicated.” Her voice grew soft, introspective. “We are what we are. And what I am is a counselor, nothing more.”
Jaeden regarded her with a faint smile, sympathy shading his expression. “I get it. Life doesn’t exactly give us the luxury of simplicity.” He tilted his head, eyeing her closely. “But I gotta say, for someone who was on the brink of a ritual sacrifice, you’re holding up pretty well. Still, you’re not exactly… well.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Liandra opened her mouth to protest, but as if Jaeden’s words had shattered her thin veneer of strength, her face grew pale, her knees buckling. She swayed, and Jaeden moved before he could think, arms outstretched to catch her as she sank toward the ground.
“Whoa there,” he murmured, easing her down gently, her weight settling lightly against him. Her face was closer now, delicate features softened by weariness. She looked fierce even in fragility - round cheeks, lips pressed together in quiet strength. He found himself studying her, intrigued.
“Well, Liandra,” he muttered to himself, barely a whisper, “nice to meet you.”
She was unconscious now, her breathing shallow but steady, the tension in her brow easing as she slipped into rest. With a quick scan of the chamber, Jaeden refocused on their surroundings, assessing the situation with sharper intent. The room was dim, a murky stillness clinging to the air, broken only by the remnants of the fallen cultists, ashes of whatever dark ritual they’d attempted.
His eyes landed on the dagger that had been aimed at Liandra’s heart. Picking it up, he noted the blade’s strange, shadowy gleam - as if it absorbed the light around it. It was cold to the touch, the edge disturbingly sharp, and Jaeden felt an odd pull as he looked at it, as though it were trying to trap his gaze. Shaking himself free from its thrall, he muttered, “Definitely not a trinket you’d find at the local market.”
Taking a length of cloth, he wrapped it around the hilt and slipped it into his bag, careful not to let it touch his skin directly. The dark energy radiating from it was unsettling, but he sensed it might prove useful later. He turned back to Liandra, still resting where he’d gently laid her, and felt a pang of protectiveness.
He wandered to the amphitheater’s wall, examining the structure for any sign of a way out. At first, it seemed like a solid surface, unyielding stone from floor to ceiling, but something about the shadows cast along the wall caught his attention. Shifting his angle, he discovered the faint outline of an overlapping curve, a hidden passage almost perfectly camouflaged within the stone’s texture.
Jaeden ran his fingers along the groove, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Well, well, looks like we’ve got an exit.” He peered down the narrow opening, the dark path stretching into the unknown. For now, he’d stay nearby - no point venturing into the depths while leaving her unprotected.
Returning to Liandra’s side, he crouched, watching her, feeling a strange pull toward this woman who seemed so poised yet bound by forces she barely understood. He could sense the energy lingering around her, faint ripples of power, like echoes of a symphony he couldn’t quite hear. It was fascinating, mysterious, and decidedly above his pay grade.
In an attempt to make sense of it all, he decided to review the logs from the battle. He drew the two dice from his pocket - the Chaos Dice, as he’d started calling them - and marveled again at the strange results they’d delivered. He skimmed through the interface, replaying the rolls and calculating their trajectory.
What he saw was… astounding. The dice had initially been standard d4s, but with each successive roll, they’d changed - evolving into d6s, then d8s, d10s, d12s - until they’d finally tallied a mind-bending result of 76. He frowned, trying to piece together how exactly he’d managed such an unprecedented roll. Finally, he noticed the trigger: a duplicate roll had ended the sequence.
“Interesting,” he murmured, turning the dice over in his palm. There was a quiet power humming through them, a hint of potential beyond mere chance. He had no idea how they worked, only that they felt strangely alive, as if the dice themselves had a hidden purpose waiting to be revealed.
With a soft sigh, Jaeden pocketed the dice, leaning back against the cold stone wall. Liandra’s steady breathing was the only sound in the chamber, a small comfort amid the eerie silence that had settled over them.
Thoughts of Vee chased through his mind as he held watch.