The room was still heavy with the atmosphere that had been produced by Kiaran's demonstration of power. The walls hummed with the weight of oppression, a lingering reminder of the violence that had built just moments before. His success was undeniable, but at what cost. The guild, once a unifying symbol, now was on shaky ground due to his actions. Dark followed him everywhere, and whispers died upon lips as he entered a room. Some were afraid of him because of the magic he controlled, but most feared the way he controlled it — a power none had seen before.

The steps of Kiaran echoed down the empty hall, the only sound punctuating the stillness. He had proven himself in battle, so why was he now worse than nervous? This guild has never been more torn apart, and shadows of betrayal fell far more heavily. Mighty, yes, but it was that same power that had sowed the seeds of doubt in the minds of those who once called him an ally.

Inside his quarters, Kiaran felt that everything that had happened during the day weighed on him. He collapsed into the chair by the fire and watched the flames dance in the hearth, casting long shadows up the walls. The faces of those who had turned against him haunted him, and the whispers of betrayal echoed in his mind. A sharp knock pulled him out of his reverie. He was unmistakable standing in the doorway-silhouette and all: Eira.

"Kiaran," she spoke low and urgent, her eyes clouded with concern. "I didn't want to come to you like this, but there's something you need to know. They're planning a meeting without you."

Kiaran furrowed his brows, tensing his muscles. "A meeting?" he repeated, his voice cold and sharp.

It's a meeting of the guild leaders," she whispered, moving closer to him. "They're calling it an 'evaluation' of your powers and authority. They are scared. And when people are scared, they do dumb, dangerous things."

Kiaran's jaw set. The words repeated themselves in his mind, fueling the simmering fire of fury that brewed beneath the surface. He had known the guild to be fractured, but this? This was a deliberate attempt to undermine him, to strip away from him the place he worked so hard to earn among them.

"Where and when?" Kiaran asked calmly, though a storm raged through his chest.

Eira's eyes shift away, her hand, digging deeper into the folds of his cloak. "Kiaran… I heard something. I overheard them speaking of your relic and. a backup plan. They are considering taking it from you."

The words hit like a blow to the chest, his blood running cold at the very thought of losing the relic. The relic which had symbolized his power and been a constant reminder of the curse that bound him. But they had underestimated him, if they ever for a moment thought that he would back down without a fight.

"Let them try," Kiaran said in a low tone, his voice apparently dangerous in its quiet way. "Thank you, Eira. I must attend there, unobserved."

He said nothing, sliding past her and slipping out into his quarters, moving like a shadow in the cold, badly lit hallways. He knew the guild better than any man. He knew every secret passage and hidden alcove. He'd be there watching and listening, and they'd never know he existed.

The meeting room of the guild was well-guarded, but Kiaran had prepared for this. He made his way through the twisting corridors, coming down a secret passage to the alcove set high above the council chamber. There, he could hear every word spoken, see every movement made. Shadows hid him, and he was but a whisper in the dark, unseen and unheard.

Within minutes, the room was saturated with the main members of the guild. Lysander stood at the head of the table, his features set grimly, his eyes held a deep concern. His agitation last night was well-known, and now, more than ever, Kiaran's existence stamped its presence on the man. The others spoke in murmurs among themselves, making covert glances at the vacant chair reserved for Kiaran.

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"Let's begin," Lysander's voice cut through the quiet murmurs. "We all have seen Kiaran's increasing power. For some, it is comforting-be he may become such an asset. For others, it is worrying. We cannot underestimate the danger he would be if he loses control."

Kiaran clenched his fists in anger as he listened from the shadows. The nerve of these men to talk of him as though he were a tool to be handled. They feared him, and he reveled in it. Yet there was something darker still beneath the words.

A grizzled old warrior, infamous for brutal pragmatism, spoke up. "We are not speaking of some minor foul step. We are talking of a man wielding power we only read about in ancient, dark legends. He's bonded a relic to his very soul. If he were to turn against us, no one would ever be able to stop him."

And it was as if the words struck Kiaran straight through to the heart, for they spoke of him as a ticking bomb. They said that he was one waiting to explode. They did not understand him. They didn't realize what it felt to carry such a burden; to hold that kind of power and feel always the weight it pressed down upon you.

A murmur of assent swept through the room, and Kiaran's eyes narrowed, the shadows around him deepening with his rising anger.

"We must have other choices," another voice said. "The relic could be taken from him, returned to a safer container — one who wouldn't risk everything for a chance at revenge. He's dangerous, and frankly not to be trusted."

Kiaran's breath caught in his throat. It was bitter, but in a way, not exactly surprising. They had been practicing this deception against him for a considerable time now, and now it was crystal clear: they would do anything to get something that belonged to him. His gaze swept the faces of the councilmen. Some appeared uneasy, others determined. But there was not a streak of warmth to be seen in their eyes.

Then there was the man in black clothing, speaking in an oily, slick voice that had beneath it the undertone of danger. "There is an alternative," he said his voice echoing to the gleam from under dim torchlight. "There are people outside our guild-things with a stake in Kiaran's. instability. They may be able to help hold him, if it becomes necessary."

Outside forces. The mere mention sent shivers down Kiaran's spine. This was no longer a simple affair of guild politics. This was a conspiracy, a calculated play to bind him, use his power for their purposes. The Ebon Spire was no longer a shadow on the periphery. They were approaching, pulling the guild into their web.

A ripple of discomfort spread through the room. Lysander's face even twitched a little, a flicker of discomfort passing through his generally impassive mask.

"If we are going to speak of such things, we must tread with care," Lysander warned, his voice edged by caution. "Any misstep could be our undoing."

However, the man in black did not show any reprieve. "The time to be careful is over. Kiaran has proved to us that he does as he pleases, and he's too valuable and dangerous for us to let him get away,"

Kiaran's teeth grated together as he clenched his fists around the stone ledge upon which he stood. It was now it. Time for truth. They were going to hand him over to the Ebon Spire, let their influence spread inside the guild. Of course, they made a grave mistake. They under-estimated his resolve.

It was a long time coming, but finally the meeting broke up. Kiaran slid back through the hidden passages. His mind was dark and sharp. Betrayal would run deep and the taste was bitter on his tongue. He had no choice now but to take the helm- and not just of the guild, but of his own destiny. He couldn't let these men, these fools, choose for him what his life was to be.

He walked out toward the training yard, where he spotted one of the council members-a man who'd once called him friend. The man's face paled at Kiaran's approach.

"Kiaran?" he stammered out in a quivering voice, horror dripping from the words.

Kiaran's eyes were like iron as he met the man's gaze and looked down at him. "You are part of it, aren't you? Part of their plan to strip me of my relic."

The man tried to turn his head, but Kiaran's eyes thrust him against his will, such as a dagger plunged into the heart. "It's. it's not what you think," he stammered. "We only fear what you could become."

"Fear me?" Kiaran's laugh was bitter and hollow. "You've made sure there is something to fear."

He drew closer, his voice low and growling. "Who are they working with? Who are these shadowy allies so glad to arrest me?"

The man stumbled, terror overwhelming him. "I don't know. You'll bring down an end to us all if you go after them. They're powers you wouldn't even understand."

Kiaran's lips curled into a cold smile. "Try me."

And with that, he released the man, his face paling even more as he stumbled away. Kiaran watched him retreat, his thoughts darker than ever.

Kiaran was alone once again, and his mind churned. The guild was no longer an ally. The council,

Now his enemies, who had forced his hands to do their bidding, stood tall, but with nothing left to him but the darkness and this keepsake. And now greater than ever before, worse than any storm, he himself would unleash this tempest.

And now shadows were his to command.

The game was just starting.