Their air seemed different since Kiaran showed them his strength. Eyes that once silently looked at him started bearing fear, suspicion, and doubt. Every corner seemed shadowed, every whispered word like a dagger aimed at his back. The air grew heavy as people cast those sidelong glances in his direction.

His victory had forced them to take him seriously, yet the cost was steep. Allies grew distant, their loyalties as fragile as the promises of power that bound them together. Kiaran felt the weight of this change, sensed it in every wary glance, every hushed conversation that halted the moment he entered a room. But beneath it all simmered a storm he was determined to face alone, despite the looming shadows of betrayal.

That night, alone in his quarters, the silence closed in around him. No visit from Eira since the fight, and now he found himself wanting her judgment even her lectures. His way was now lonely, and for a moment, he gave way to the quiet torture of wondering if he'd made a mistake.

A gentle rap broke the stillness of the air. He rose, anticipating Eira's gentle knock, but when he opened the door, a different silhouette stood there: Nerys Ashen, a slight figure garbed in dark leather, her face half-concealed beneath a hood. Known for her precision and ruthlessness, a silent blade in the dark, her reputation carried whispers of the assassinations she conducted without leaving a trace behind. She did not typically appear out of the blue for no good reason.

"Kiaran," she said, her voice a smooth whisper devoid of emotion. "May I come in?"

He stepped aside, eyeing her warily. "What brings a ghost like you to my door?"

Nerys smirked as she stepped in, her gaze sharp and assessing. "I've watched the guild turn against you. It's strange to see you alone in this fight, though I imagine that's exactly what they want."

“Who are ‘they,’ exactly?” Kiaran asked, crossing his arms. “I take it you’re here to tell me something specific.”

Nerys’ smile faded. “Lysander and a few other council members. They’ve been meeting in secret, not just among themselves. There are outsiders—those with interests beyond the guild walls. They see your power as a threat to their carefully constructed hierarchy.”

Kiaran's gaze narrowed. "And what is it you expect to gain by telling me this?"

She regarded him with a calculating gleam in her eye. "An alliance, if you will. I don't like Lysander's brand of leadership. He's too cautious, too controlled. There's no room for growth under a leader who's afraid of taking risks."

"So, you want to help me… for your own gain.

"Precisely." Her eyes did not waver. "But I'm not without my terms. You have the muscle, Kiaran, but I have the length and the specifics you are missing. Work with me, and I'll give you what you need to bring Lysander down."

Kiaran balanced his words carefully. Trust was a currency he didn't throw around easily. But he couldn't ignore her value—not when she could offer him insight into the heart of the council.

"What do you know about this conspiracy?"

She leaned back, crossing her arms. "They call it the 'Silent Council'—a coalition of guild leaders, mercenaries, and some influential figures outside our borders. They're bound together by one thing: control. They've seen the power you wield and fear what it could mean if left unchecked. Lysander's been in contact with them, and they have a vested interest in keeping you … subdued."

Kiaran's jaw clenched. "And their next move?

There is a council meeting tonight—it's a gathering of their leaders. They're debating whether to try removing this relic from you, perhaps even replacing you with someone they perceive as more manageable."

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The anger was a low simmering in Kiaran's gut, an ember threatening to flame up. "So, I take it you expect me to go to this meeting.

Nerys nodded, pulling a small silver amulet from her cloak. "This will mask your presence. They won't know you're there unless you choose to reveal yourself. But be warned—the relic's magic doesn't last long. You'll have to move fast.

Kiaran took the amulet, feeling its weight in his palm. A meeting of the Silent Council—the very heart of the conspiracy against him. This was his chance to gain insight into their plans, to see his enemies laid bare.

"What's in it for you?" he asked, still wary.

Only what I deserve," she said, a glint of ambition in her eyes. "When this is over, I expect a share of the power we seize. And I expect your protection should things turn… difficult."

Kiaran nodded, the terms understood. He wasn't a stranger to alliances born of mutual self-interest, and for now, Nerys was a necessary ally.

As the night deepened, Kiaran slipped through the shadows of the guild hall, his cloak over the amulet hidden beneath it. The chamber where the council was being held was highly guarded, but he moved with practiced stealth, avoiding the guards and other guild members with ease. The magic of the amulet kept him from detection, its aura wrapping around him like a cloak, making him invisible.

When he came to the room, he had seen a hidden alcove above it where he could see without being seen. Council members had already begun to sit down, their faces lit by dim torches. At the head of the group was Lysander, his face serious yet determined, his decision weighing upon him by the intensity of his gaze.

Kiaran sat back as Lysander spoke to the council, his voice low and commanding. "Kiaran's actions in recent days have made the guild question his capabilities. He is a valuable asset, but his loyalty is uncertain at best. We must ensure that his abilities are for the guild and not for his own gain.

A battle-hardened veteran, scarred and seasoned from years of fighting, stepped into the conversation. "We are not discussing a light scolding. If he turns against us, the whole guild might come crashing down. He is bound to a relic and might just splinter us all apart if he loses control.

Others were nodding in assent, but their faces looked tormented. It was evident that the thing which kept them together in this moment of time was more fear than loyalty.

"We have two choices," Lysander said, his eyes roving across the council. "We can try to take the relic from him or… seek help from other powers. There are those who have encountered such persons before, who know how dangerous some people like him are.

A figure in dark robes, sitting on the edge of the room leaned forward. "I am aware of such forces," he said his voice smooth and chill. "Groups who specialize in containing threats of this nature. They have expressed interest in assisting us should we decide to take them up on their offer.

Kiaran breathed more slowly as he listened. It wasn't just that they were going to control him, it was that they were getting ready to hand him over to some dark, other power. Shadows seemed to shut in around him, the betrayal as sharp as a blade.

There, in this secret chamber, he clenched his fists, his mind going at whirlwind pace. This was more about him than any test of his strength or artifact; it was about mastery over him, shaping him to their whim. And Lysander, a man he once called friend, was its eye.

The murmurs continued down below him, voices turning into the roar of betrayal and fear. Kiaran's head spun as he pieced the puzzle together: something he never imagined, running so much deeper than any conspiracy he could have thought of.

But then, something caught his attention. Dark and sexy, a figure emerged from the shadows on the other side of the room, taking him forward into a lewd regard. It was Selene Faraine, the dark sorceress bound to his curse, who stood there as if to see through the shadows that still concealed him.

Her voice was a soft, seductive whisper that seemed to echo through the chamber. “You’ve come a long way, Kiaran,” she said, her gaze piercing. “But the path you’ve chosen will not end here.”

The council members glanced around, confused, her words audible only to him. Kiaran felt the weight of her gaze, her presence a reminder of the supernatural forces that bound him.

Your power is growing, Kiaran," Selene murmured, her voice a private message for him alone. "But beware. Power without control is a dangerous thing. If you continue down this path, you may find yourself consumed by the very darkness you seek to wield.

With a final, lingering look, Selene stepped back into the shadows, her presence seeping into the distance like smoke. The meeting concluded, and the council members dispersed - some heavy-hearted and anxious eyes, others going with undominated gazes.

Kiaran hid, his mind reeling. The words of the Selene echoed in his thoughts. He had always been aware that power comes at a price, but now he realized just how steep that cost was.

He emerged from the guild hall, unseen and unheard, with a resolve to face whatever came next. For now, he knew that the council had chosen their side, and soon they would learn what it means to be afraid.