Chancellor Damius Marks watched the approaching wedding of the wealthy duchess, Koralise Mahovey.

It took much longer for him to experience each moment than others because he viewed through the orange glow of the Remel orb, Sykihr.

Marks had a small room he called his viewing room. It contained a strange apparatus that allowed the orb to be suspended on a platform that could swivel from its mount in the center of the room, allowing the orb to rest upon its perch while Marks sat comfortably in his chair. The chancellor was never to be bothered while in his viewing room.

He watched Koralise undress to prepare for the garments of her wedding dress.

He watched with a voyeuristic crooked smile as she and her assistants lowered her towel from her naked body so that she could be coated in oils. It was to be a private ritual for the wealthy Aallandron upper class.

Men were never allowed to view the bride, but Marks was not technically there. With thousands of years of practice and use, Marks could manipulate the view of the orb’s sight. He floated around seeing the lovely young woman as her maids brushed oil around the curvature of her breasts.

Koralise had been in a state of bliss—until Marks noticed her eyes open before fixing on his position before her.

Her mouth fell, and she seemed for an instant to know she was being watched. The girl’s eyes darted back and forth at the space in front of her, a hand going to cover her chest as she looked around the empty dressing room.

The maids surveyed the area, exchanging a concerned look. One of them asked if everything was okay. Koralise continued looking around.

Marks refused to move.

It had happened on occasion in the past when he viewed people. They could sense a presence. They did not know any more than that, and they almost always adjusted and ignored him once they realized there was no one to see. Marks knew they never fully became comfortable, but he didn’t care.

He had been obsessed with the Mahovey girl for years. He loved watching her grow and blossom into a stunning young woman. Now, she was to be married, which meant she would lose her virginity soon. She would finally feel a man inside of her, and Marks would be there to experience that moment as well.

For now, he waited with anticipation, watching the women paint the oil down the girl’s lower back. He could feel the light sweat that lifted from the girl’s skin from the warmth of the oil.

“Sir,” a guard spoke, interrupting the orb’s visage.

Koralise’s slick naked body disappeared in a cloud of orange smoke.

Marks pushed the orb’s platform away, dismissing his initial burst of rage from having been interrupted. He had to go to the restroom anyway.

“What is it?” Marks asked his guard, getting up from his seat. Unless it was vitally important, he shouldn’t have been bothered.

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“The Tornetum is about to begin,” spoke the guard. “You told me to interrupt you when it could be delayed no longer, and well…”

“Of course, of course, of course,” Marks massaged the guard’s neck above his armor as he walked by. His bladder had suddenly become fuller than it had been before. “I’ll get ready and be in the stadium shortly.”

Marks did his business and made himself as presentable as he could.

The ego is a growing organism within the mind that travels through many phases. As Marks had been exposed to the Remel orbs for so long, his personal view of himself was untamed, wild, and disconnected from his body. His ego was in control, and whatever action it chose, the body followed like an unthinking servant.

This made interacting with the general public a challenge because people assume one has lost their way when they neglect their appearance. They couldn’t understand the genius that existed within Damius Marks, or that he held this fragile order of a kingdom together behind the scenes while barely being involved.

Did the chancellor care that the wealthy elite of Narcuss thought he was losing it because his hair had grown long around the bald dome of his skull, or that his breath usually reeked of putrid odors from weeks past?

He was held together unnaturally by the power of the Remel orb. His physical health did not matter to him.

Marks had watched generations of wealthy, judging Aallandrons grow to be vigorous and powerful politically, only to wither to old age, become obsolete, and die before the kingdom’s eyes. None of these useless mortal Aallandrons mattered to Damius Marks.

He finished dressing himself in his chancellor’s toga and sash before passing back through the viewing room.

He would have continued down the steps of his tower to the lower levels of the castle, except and orange light from within the viewing apparatus made Marks pause.

The orb was alight without anyone to activate it.

Marks squinted as he approached the apparatus and separated it out. The orb glowed from its position in the center like a small orange sun. He had never seen it look so bright in his thousands of years of using the artifact.

There wasn’t very much time, but a Tornetum is a Tornetum. So what if he missed the initial reading from the Auctor? He had not witnessed the orb behave this way in what felt like eons.

Chancellor Marks put his fingers to the orb. There was a heat pulsing from it.

The moment his fingers made contact, an electricity that was painful coursed through his body.

The vision he saw was the figure of a young girl with long black hair crouched upon the raised platform where the throne of Narcuss lay.

She propped herself up with a stick of some kind, but her form was in pure shadow—except her eyes. Those eyes were such a brilliant blue green that they glowed like turquoise ornaments from their sockets.

The determined look in the girl’s eyes was murderous. For once in many, many centuries, Chancellor Damius Marks felt fear.

The pain to the touch was like a searing hot iron. Marks released the orb, which extinguished instantly.

It was as though all the life had gone from the artifact. Marks realized that his neck was kissed with sweat. He wiped it and looked to see the slick moisture on his fingers.

Marks had been carefree all morning, but this behavior from the orb was concerning. It was as though the object was warning him with this vision.

The artifact made no effort to appease and pacify him this time. It was giving the chancellor an objective.

This individual was a threat. If he encountered this person, he would see to it that she was eliminated as quickly as possible.

He only hoped it wouldn’t require the orbs’ brethren to get the job done. That much was unlikely. No mortal was powerful enough to contend with even a single Remel orb. Collecting the orbs’ brothers wouldn’t be necessary.

The chancellor left his viewing sanctum and descended to the ground floor of the castle where a carriage was waiting to take him to the vorago arena.

He climbed inside and allowed himself to be taken to the Tornetum.