Sevas watched the sun crest over the horizon, the first rays of light casting long shadows across the grand hall. He sat in his throne, a silhouette of authority and contemplation. Thane stood behind him, waiting for orders with the quiet patience of a seasoned warrior. The high king sighed, a sound heavy with the weight of unseen burdens.
“What’s the report on the slums?” Sevas asked, his voice breaking the silence.
“New sinkholes have formed, and our construction crews have sent supports, but their efforts are being blocked by the resistance,” Thane replied, his tone professional yet tinged with frustration.
“So I still don’t know them all then? That’s…” Sevas paused, lost in thought. “Unfortunate. I was hoping to know them all by now.” He absently swathed his fingers along the arm of his throne, the intricate carvings cool under his touch.
“Perhaps the Crown seeks their aid more than yours,” Thane suggested, his voice carefully measured.
“Even after the help I’ve given them?” Sevas asked without emotion, his eyes fixed on the horizon. “No, I’m loved down there more than any high king before me. I gave them sustenance and a wage. I even make my presence known twice a week.”
The rising sun illuminated Sevas’ middle-aged features, casting a golden glow that softened his stern expression. “I fear this resistance will mark a turning point in Arvendon.”
“In the positive or negative, Ser?” Thane inquired, squinting against the brightening sky.
“Do you know what I fear most, Thane?” The high king’s voice sounded distant, as if he were speaking from another time, another place.
Thane, puzzled by the sudden shift in the conversation, kept his composure. “The resistance?”
“No, they are but foolhardy youths trying to make a name for themselves,” Sevas waved his hand dismissively, his benevolence towards them always shocking and surprising Thane. “And they will be dealt with according to our laws when the time comes. No, it’s something the founder of this very nation feared, and every high king before me feared.”
“What would that be, Ser?” Thane asked, genuinely curious.
“Something is stirring, my dear general, a great being that should be forgotten but a certain kingdom worships like a god. It’s too early; my plans are not quite complete. My abilities cannot control others, only monitor. I need more soul stones, and then I should awaken an ability that can. Then, I can control him.”
“Who exactly are we talking about, Ser?” Thane was truly confused, his entire life dedicated to Arvendon, with only brief forays beyond its borders on missions.
“A being all should fear, even spirits. The Eternal King of Rothurd,” Sevas revealed, his voice dropping to a whisper as if the very name carried a curse.
The high king’s gaze shifted from the horizon to Thane, his eyes burning with a mix of determination and dread. “I don’t know his location, but he is bound within an ethereal chain, matching the one that I have here.” Sevas caressed the blue chain casually draped across the back. “When He wakes, the chain stirs, and the chains have been stirring quite often in the past few months.”
Sevas’ words hung in the air, a heavy shroud of foreboding that settled over them both. Thane felt a chill run down his spine. The Eternal King of Rothurd was a name spoken only in hushed tones, a figure of legend and fear.
“So, we must prepare,” Sevas continued, his voice regaining its authoritative edge. “We must gather more soul stones and strengthen our forces. The resistance is but a distraction from the greater threat that looms.”
Thane nodded, his mind racing with the implications of Sevas’ revelation. “I will see to it, Ser. The preparations will begin immediately.”
Sevas leaned back in his throne, his fingers drumming a thoughtful rhythm on the armrest. “Good. We have much work to do, Thane. The future of Arvendon depends on it.”
As the sun climbed higher, casting its full light into the room, the two men stood in silence, the gravity of their mission settling upon them like a cloak of shadows.
“In two days' time, there will be another meeting in the slums. I want you there to set an ambush,” Sevas commanded, his voice firm and resolute. “Try not to harm anyone, Thane. However, if your life is in danger, you may do as you see fit.” Sevas rose from his throne, the movement adding weight to his orders.
Stolen story; please report.
Thane nodded, his expression unwavering. “Understood, Ser.”
Sevas took a moment to consider his next directive, his gaze thoughtful. “And one more thing,” he began, his tone shifting slightly. “I want you to visit Erik’s old home. It is being used, and I’m assuming his adoptive sister is the one occupying it. It seems she inherited his ability to block my perception.”
He paused, then handed Thane a tiny device, an observation machine so small it could fit on a screw head. “Give her a gift or something that would give you a reason to enter,” Sevas instructed, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I need at least one set of eyes on her somewhere.”
Thane took the device, examining it briefly before slipping it into his pocket. “I’ll handle it, Ser. Do you have a specific gift in mind?”
Sevas considered this for a moment. “Something that would seem thoughtful, perhaps a book or an artifact of Auctian culture. Something to show respect for her heritage and curiosity about her abilities. Then be sure to send condolences from the kingdom to the parting of Erik. It will make your presence more believable to seek her attention.”
Thane nodded again, already formulating a plan. “I will prepare accordingly. Erik’s old home will not go unchecked.”
“Good,” Sevas said, his voice carrying a note of finality. “We must stay vigilant. This rebellion is just the beginning, and we cannot afford any blind spots.”
With that, Thane bowed slightly and exited the chamber, leaving Sevas alone with his thoughts. The high king watched the sun climb higher in the sky, the light casting intricate patterns on the floor. The weight of his responsibilities pressed heavily upon him, but he knew he could not falter. The future of Arvendon, and his own survival, depended on his every move.
Then, a sudden chill ran down his spine as he realized something was amiss. The color drained from his face as his ability failed to connect with the leaders of the rebellion. Panic gripped him as he tried to re-establish the connection, but each attempt was met with failure. The Shadow Eyes, which had been his constant source of surveillance and control, were now blind to the movements of his enemies.
Sevas clenched the arms of his throne, his mind racing. This unexpected blackout left him vulnerable, undermining his meticulous plans. He needed to act swiftly to regain control and ensure the rebellion did not gain the upper hand.
In the quiet of the throne room, the high king's resolve hardened. He would uncover the reason behind this failure, and he would not rest until every member of the rebellion was brought to him as guinea pigs to a dreamed awakened ability to control. The stakes had never been higher, and the shadows he commanded would be relentless in their pursuit.
As Thane made his way through the corridors of the high king’s residence, his mind was already at work. He needed to carefully plan the ambush, ensuring that it would quell the resistance without unnecessary bloodshed. And he needed to devise a way to approach Abby without raising suspicion.
Reaching his quarters, Thane began to gather the items he would need. A finely crafted book of Auctian lore caught his eye—a book about a sect of ten thousand Auctians that stayed on the mainland when the species fled to the oceans—a perfect gift, he decided. Respectful, intriguing, and likely to grant him entry into Abby’s home. With the tiny observation machine tucked securely in his pocket, he felt a sense of readiness. Two days. He had two days to execute Sevas’ orders flawlessly. Failure was not an option.
On the morning before the sun rose shining upon the city, Thane approached Abby's residence, his stride purposeful yet measured. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before knocking on the door. As he waited, his unseen narrator, a woman with an ethereal presence, stood silently behind him. The door creaked open, revealing Abby's cautious gaze. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she recognized Thane, the man she believed was responsible for Erik's death.
"Good morning, Miss Abby," Thane began, offering a polite smile. "I hope I'm not intruding. I bring gratitude for Erik’s service and wanted to offer you a gift—something I thought you might find interesting."
Abby hesitated for a moment, her mistrust evident, before stepping aside to let him in. "What is it?" she asked, her voice guarded.
Thane handed her the book, its cover adorned with intricate designs. "A book of Auctian lore," he explained. "It details a fascinating part of your people's history—about a sect that remained on the mainland. I thought it might interest you."
Abby's eyes widened as she took the book, her tentacles curling slightly in intrigue despite her wariness. "This is...unexpected. Thank you, Thane."
He glanced around the modest home, noting the simplicity and warmth of the space. Nat was sitting on the couch, eyeing the new visitor. When his eyes locked onto Thane’s narrator, she bowed and made her way toward her leader. Abby watched this happen. Thane did not react, confirming Nat’s emphasis that Thane knew nothing of narrators. "It's my pleasure," Thane replied. "I hoped we might discuss it over tea. I have always been fascinated by Auctian culture, and I thought you might share some insights."
Abby nodded, leading him to the small kitchen area with a reluctance that she tried to mask. As she prepared the tea, Thane's eyes subtly scanned the room, searching for the perfect spot to place the observation machine.
Thane moved casually, pretending to admire the flowers in the vase—the very flowers he had placed in her home months ago. "These are beautiful," he commented, placing the tiny device on one of the leaves. "They add a lovely touch to your home."
Abby turned, a tentative smile on her lips, but her eyes were sharp, scrutinizing his every move. "Thank you. They were a gift from a friend."
“Truly?” he mused.
As they sat down with their tea, Abby kept her guard up, the memory of Erik's fate lingering at the forefront of her mind. Thane engaged her in conversation about the book, steering the discussion towards her views on the current state of Arvendon. He listened intently, all the while ensuring the observation device was securely in place.
Their talk was pleasant on the surface, but Abby's wariness colored every word she spoke. As the morning wore on, Thane felt a sense of accomplishment despite the tension. He had completed his mission without raising overt suspicion. As he prepared to leave, he expressed his gratitude once more.
"Thank you for the tea and the conversation, Abby. I hope we can do this again sometime."
Abby nodded, her expression thoughtful but guarded. "You're welcome, General Thane. And thank you for the book. It means a lot."
Thane exited the home, feeling a sense of readiness for the next steps. "Now we watch and wait," he murmured to himself, feeling accomplished in his mission.
He nodded, his mind already on the next steps. The tiny device would relay invaluable information, bringing them one step closer to quelling the rebellion and ensuring the stability of Arvendon.
Abby watched him leave, her tentacles tracing the edge of the book. The unease in her heart remained, and she knew she had to be cautious. Thane's visit had left her with more questions than answers, and she resolved to uncover the truth behind his intentions. Nat went to the flowers and crushed the device with his hand, washing his hands in the sink, allowing the remnants to run down the drain.
“This should piss them off a little more,” Nat stated with a smirk.
“Now, Miss Narrator, we need to talk,” Abby had returned to the bar in the kitchen. She looked directly into the female Narrator’s eyes. “Tell me, what happened to Erik in the Wylde Wood Sanctuary.”