“Do you think he’s betrayed us?” High Regent Shingto asked. Her co-regents Torvas and Alsumi looked either frustrated or annoyed, depending on the moment. She frowned, knowing full well the import of the accusation.

“I don’t know,” Alsumi began. “His report is long overdue.” He prodded the veal on his plate with his fork, considering whether he could stomach one more bite.

“Elanreu isn’t known for his punctuality,” Torvas added. “We’ve sent him on three Ablations now in as many cycles. Perhaps he is simply tired.”

“The man never rests. He’s busier than his sister,” Alsumi replied. He ate the bite anyway.

Shingto drummed her fingers on her armrests. “The school needs him to return. He needs to look after his family.” Is this when they start bickering? She wondered how long it would take.

“He’s a tool. A useful tool,” Torvas said. “We’ll remind him when he checks in.”

“How do you propose to do that, Torvas? It’s been a decade since he set foot in the Atrium. I question his faith in the Light,” Alsumi said. He belched. “Too often we await his replies. He

works at our behest, not the other way around.” It begins. Shingo leaned back and crossed her arms, ready to observe. The dinner served as a means to an end. Getting the three of them in one room always succeeded in starting an argument. Better to let them air things out, then set them straight.

“That’s why we’ll bring him here and humble him. He can’t be controlled,” Torvas said. His plate had been empty since near the beginning, with his meager serving quickly finished. Shingto had planned the meal well. She expected him to chime in with whatever random tidbits he knew. He had a habit of doing that.

“You can’t humble the man. His ego grows every time we send him. He knows we need him,” Alsumi argued. “When he returns, Elanreu will be even more insufferable.”

“For a time, perhaps,” Torvas conceded. “He is not indispensable.”

“He is necessary. Tell me who can perform an Ablation more efficiently than him.”

“This surge is a rarity. He puts himself out of work the better he becomes. The time will arrive when we no longer need him,” Torvas said. He swirled his glass of wine, then drained it. “We must plan for that future.”

“He is the reason we have that future. We retired him once, only to throw him back into the field.” Alsumi carved his meat vigorously. “The balance has been upset. You know how precarious things are.” Shingto smiled.

“The Light illuminates our path, Torvas. Just this morning I received a request from his daughter. She desires to be posted to guard duty here at the Atrium.”

“She’s young.”

“She’s seen nineteen cycles. Shallin has been in the field. Her ambition rivals her father’s.” Torvas poured himself more wine. The man’s always been a lush, Shingto thought.

“Tested?”

“Mmm. She’s off to a Cull as we speak.”

Alsumi finished his meal and pushed his dinner plate aside. “She could be an asset against him if he’s turned from the path we’ve set him. I doubt he has, though.”

“You’ve always been an optimist, Alsumi,” Shingto said. “He ranges further afield by the day. Did you know there are three Cadres not accounted for?”

“He took them when he went,” Alsumi said. He belched. “I’m sure he needed backup.”

“Are you that out of touch? The man works alone.” Torvas berated him. His tone amused her. He almost sounded upset. “He has no use for a Cadre on an Ablation, let alone three.”

“I’m sure he had his reasons.” Alsumi cut a slice of pie and began eating that too. Shingto smiled at his nonchalance. “Why else would he take them?”

Why else, indeed? They had left on Her orders, not Elanreu’s. Her exquisite timing left no margin for suspicion. Months had passed with no word from them either. She feared what that could mean.

“Their absence leaves us vulnerable. He knows it would be inadvisable to disperse that many Cadres and not inform us. It puts us at a disadvantage.” Torvas turned his glare towards her. “Did you know?”

Shingto smiled, her red lips lightly parted. “Which answer would you prefer?” She dipped her finger in her wine, swirling it about. “No matter what I say, you’ll be disappointed.”

“You’re the one suggesting Elanreu has betrayed us. You tell me.”

She laughed, her crystal voice clear in the small dining hall. “I wanted your thoughts on the matter, Torvas.” Shingto sucked the tart wine from her finger. “Not your mistrust.”

Torvas stood and began pacing. “You’ve heard the rumors, same as I.”

She nodded. “They’re just rumors.”

“You know, there might be something to them,” Alsumi added. “What if the additional Ablations correlate to the reports of the incursions?”

“What makes you think they’re related?” Torvas asked.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Shingto admitted to herself that Alsumi had a point. Decades had passed without an Ablation. Now there had been three, and the incursions had begun around the same time. Taken individually, they seemed like unremarkable data points. Perhaps that was just her clinical, cynical view.

“We’ve had two Cadres rotating duty with the soldiers on the eastern borders for three cycles now. The Sentinels have sustained many losses,” Alsumi explained.

“I’ve found them to be acceptable ones,” Torvas said.

“The loss of any Sentinel weakens us,” Shingto said. “I’ve pushed Desi to increase their output. She’s a brilliant instructor, but their training has particular requirements that slow our acquisition.”

“They’re also a victim of their own success,” Torvas said. “The better they are, the fewer they can train.”

“Which makes it all the more important that we lose no more,” Alsumi slurped at his pie filling. Why the Light had made him a Regent, Shingto couldn’t fathom.

“And that brings us back to the missing Cadres.” Torvas glared at her. She returned his ire with a wider smile. “Where are they, Shingto? I know you know.”

She wanted to keep toying with him, but it was better to tell the truth. Or some form of it, at least. Give him a few words to soothe, but not enough to satisfy.

“I heard they’re on special assignment.”

“Who authorized it?

“Who do you think?” The open-ended question slipped under his skin. He hated it when she smiled so much, and she knew it. She sipped more of her wine. Exquisite. “They serve us, but at his direction.”

“This isn’t the kind of secret you can gloss over, Shingto. Where did they go?”

Shingto stretched, leaning far back in her chair. “They’ve been gone months now. Even if I knew where they were going, there’s no guarantee they’re still there. Where they are now is anyone’s guess.”

“It must be nice to be so cavalier with their whereabouts.”

“Do you fear for them, Torvas?”

“You may not be concerned by the incursions, Shingto, but they remain a threat. We need those Sentinels. If not now, then soon.”

“Aye. War is coming.” If my gambit is successful then we can triumph. Modius is key to capturing him. He’s never failed me before. And if he is there, then she…Well, that’s why I sent Eilic along.

“Some of these reports are ridiculous,” Alsumi added. “Hundreds of shamans? Rogue Priestesses? Demons and even monsters? Our reach is wide. Surely these can’t be true.”

“We dismiss these threats at our peril,” Torvas said. “That many shamans alone could ravage the world if left unchecked. We are exposed without our Sentinels. It is imperative we get those Cadres back.”

“Your capacity for imagination blinds you to reality,” she said. “Obviously, the threat has been overstated or we’d have felt the effects here. The Eluvans ensure our rule is unchallenged. Trust them.”

“It would not hurt to show a little caution, Shingto. None of us are infallible. You of all people should know this.” Torvas grinned, the twinkle in his eye just a glimmer of duplicitous knowledge. No qualms restrained his desire to remind her of how much she’d failed. If not for his clandestine support, she would not still be the High Regent.

Playing these games irked her. Alsumi posed no threat in his simpleness. He didn’t have the mind for elaborate schemes. Torvas dogged her every step of the way. She would not deny he had fair points, but his impertinence would not sway her. Perhaps an assassination wouldn’t be out of character. That he hadn’t taken the move himself served to stay her hand. For now.

“What assignment could be so special that we cannot know about it?” Alsumi asked. Nothing more shrewd had passed his lips all night. She almost regretted not poisoning him. Shingto trusted in the Light’s decision.

“She won’t tell us, but I can guess,” Torvas said. “It was revenge, wasn’t it?”

Shingto smiled sweetly, but it didn’t diminish the hatred in her eyes. “I wouldn’t send that kind of manpower for something so petty,” she lied.

“So you did send them,” Alsumi pointed out. She felt the invisible noose of her glibness constrict around her. How do I wiggle out of that mistake? She regretted her words immediately.

“Tell us then, High Regent,” taunted Torvas. “What purpose loftier than revenge served as your motivation to leave us in such a perilous state?”

She glared at them both. Shingto expected to spar with Torvas, but it had been Alsumi’s words that barbed her skin. She could not countenance mistakes like that. Like a mouse that had peeked into the wrong hole, she found herself attacked. Both her counterparts had struck like vipers, patiently waiting for her to make a mistake. Their united front surprised her.

“Not every threat comes from the far borders. Some are closer to home,” she tried to backpedal. “They were deployed accordingly.”

“You know, there have been other rumors, Shingto. I imagine they skipped past your ears, of course. Or maybe they laid the groundwork for your betrayal,” Torvas said. She returned his steely gaze, wondering what he hinted at. “I’ve been waiting for a night like tonight, for us to be together in a more intimate setting apart from the council. It seemed appropriate.”

Alsumi pushed his plate to the center and leaned back, his stomach swollen. He’d eaten twice as much as she’d planned. Shingto hated his gluttony as much as she hated how his eyes shined like they held a secret, darting back and forth between her and Torvas. Someone had gone around her.

“They’re not just rumors, Torvas. She’s so focused on shifting blame to Elanreu that she overlooks just how much her lust blinds her. We know you found her. Or was it him? Chicken or the egg, Shingto. Which was it? Chicken, or egg?” Alsumi belched again, louder this time. Both men looked at her expectantly.

Panic made its way inside, worming deep into her heart. How had they found out? Who had told? Shingto needed to know but refused to concede how close they struck to the truth.

“We’re on the same side here, gentlemen,” she began. “Assistance had been requested at a particularly large market. Lord Elanreu felt-”

“Your lies are the worst they’ve ever been, Shingto. Start with the facts. Modius was sent. Under his command are those with certain…proclivities. Elanreu doesn’t spend that Cadre lightly. You sent them a long way around, didn’t you? Avoiding the desert is costly. I know him. He’ll resent it. Whether he achieved what you sought or not, he’ll come straight back. He will tell me everything,” Torvas said.

“A trip like that is perilous. For them as well as for you,” Alsumi interjected. “Continue your charade if you like. You don’t delude us for a second.”

“There’s nothing past the Falsyn. Our forebears ensured that,” Torvas continued. “You’ve sent them on a fool’s errand. Light illuminate their path and provide for their safe return.” He smiled at her, pulling the noose tight. “Your future may depend on it.”

She hated them both more than she thought possible. Still, she kept her mask up, her outward confidence unwavering while her heart wallowed in the pit of her stomach.

“Eluvans do their jobs without stooping to hearsay, a lesson I thought you’d both learned long ago. When they return, you’ll understand the truth of the matter. Good day, gentlemen,” she said.

High Regent Shingto rose, and her companions stood as well. Protocol required their deference, but she knew she’d overstepped her bounds and underestimated their cunning. Her attempt to turn them on each other had backfired, and only the Light knew if she would recover.