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"Congregation."

The tension in the tavern grew palpable as the two men stared each other down.

Arteus felt the weight of a hundred eyes on him as he made his way through the crowded room, the whispers of the townsfolk following him like a dark shadow. He knew they still saw him as the hero of the Barley, the young man who put his life on the line time and again for their safety.

The tavern was a maelstrom of emotions, fear and hope swirling together like the smoke from the dying embers in the hearth. The priests stood at the end of the room, their robes a stark contrast to the rough-hewn walls and the earthy scent of ale. They were an island of calm in the storm of humanity, their eyes unreadable as they scrutinized him.

Arteus approached the table with the same determination that had carried him through his battles thus far. The priests looked at him, their expressions unreadable behind their holy vestments. They knew of his journey, the trials he had faced, and the truths he had uncovered. They had heard about it all the moment the second procession from Barley made land in Sovereign.

Their eyes, filled with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, scrutinized him as he stepped closer to the man they had chosen to follow. The room grew quieter, the whispers of the townsfolk fading into the background. The air was thick with anticipation, as if everyone present knew that this meeting would be pivotal to their futures.

The priests, robed in garments that shimmered in the candlelight, exchanged a knowing glance before standing in unison. They stepped aside with an air of solemnity, revealing the figure of Tobias Kingg, who sat at the far end of the table. He was a man of average height, with a presence that seemed to fill the room, his eyes piercing and sharp like a hawk's gaze. The shadows played across his features, giving him an otherworldly quality that sent a shiver down Arteus's spine.

Tobias looked up from his goblet of wine, his gaze lingering on Arteus before he offered a curt nod. "Please, take a seat," he said, his voice a rich baritone that resonated in the silent room. The words hung in the air, a silent challenge that seemed to echo through the tavern. Arteus felt the weight of the moment as he approached the table, the creak of the chair seeming to echo through the room like a thunderclap as he sat down opposite the man who had captured the hearts and minds of the refugees.

The air between them was charged with unspoken words and unanswered questions. "Indeed, we have much to discuss," Tobias began, his eyes never leaving Arteus's. "Your journey, your battles, and the whispers that follow you." His words were as precise as a scalpel, cutting through the tension that had settled like a thick fog.

Tobias took a sip of his wine, the corners of his mouth twitching into a cheeky grin. It was the kind of smile that suggested he knew something that others did not, something that made the hairs on the back of Arteus's neck stand on end.

"Welcome to Sovereign, Arteus," he said, setting the goblet down with a deliberate clink against the wood. "Your reputation precedes you." His eyes were a stormy grey, a mirror to the tumultuous skies outside. They searched Arteus's own, looking for something, perhaps a spark of the divine, or a hint of the destiny that seemed to follow the boy like a shadow.

"Thank you," Arteus replied, his voice tight with tension. "I've come with many questions, hoping to find answers here." He clasped his hands before him, knuckles white with the effort to keep them still.

Tobias leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. "Ah, the inquisitive hero," he said, his tone filled with amusement. "I've seen you before, you know. Many times, in fact." His words hung in the air, a puzzle that Arteus hadn't anticipated.

"Seen me?" Arteus's brow furrowed. "Where?"

"In the shadows," Tobias said, his smile taking on a cryptic quality. "You see, my friend, I am a creature of the periphery. I've watched you grow from afar, watched you face your trials with valor. It's been quite the journey, hasn't it?"

Arteus felt a chill run down his spine, his mind racing to piece together the implications of Tobias's words. Memories of distant whispers and fleeting figures danced before his eyes. "Why?" he managed to ask, his voice tight with confusion.

"You killed Mathias," Arteus felt a knot tighten in his stomach as the implication sank in. "Why?" he accused, his voice barely above a whisper.

Tobias leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "Why?" He echoed, his tone amused. "Because destiny enjoys a good dance, my young friend. I've been watching over you, orchestrating events from the shadows." He paused, his eyes gleaming with an unspoken secret. "Our paths were meant to cross, but not until the time was ripe for the harvest."

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Arteus's hand tightened on the axe at his side. "What do you mean?" he demanded. "Is the time ripe now?"

Tobias's grin grew, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Perhaps," he said, drawing out the word like a bowstring. "Time is a fickle beast, and its whispers can be interpreted in many ways." He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "But one thing is clear: you are the child of god."

The room stilled, the air thick with anticipation. The whispers of the townsfolk faded into nothingness, the crackling fire the only sound to break the silence. Even the shadows on the walls seemed to hold their breath as they waited for Arteus's response.

Tobias leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. "I've heard tales of your journey, of the battles you've fought and the destiny you carry. Yet, I wonder, have you encountered others like Ava along the way?" His question was a knife in the dark, designed to cut to the heart of the matter.

Arteus's grip on his axe tightened, his eyes flashing with anger. "I know of no one else," he said firmly. "And I am no child of a god."

Tobias chuckled, a sound as warm and welcoming as a lion's purr. "Ah, modesty," he said, raising his glass. "A charming trait in a hero, but one that is often mistaken for ignorance." He took a sip, the liquid within shimmering with an otherworldly light. "But fear not, for I am not one to force truths upon those who are not ready to receive them."

He leaned closer, his eyes holding a glint of something that could have been amusement or challenge. "But let us speak of more immediate matters," he said. "I am forming an alliance, a coalition of the willing, to face all-sky with an honest heart. I have seen the power within you, and I know that you are a piece of the puzzle that is yet to be placed."

Arteus felt the weight of the world settle on his shoulders, the implication of what was being offered to him as heavy as a mountain. "What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Find them," Tobias said, his eyes burning with a fervor that was both mesmerizing and unsettling. "Find the others born with the Pledge of Birthright. They are out there, scattered across Avaricia. They hold the key to our salvation."

Arteus felt a tremor run through him. The implications of what was being asked were vast and overwhelming. To search for others like Ava, others burdened with the same divine spark, was a quest that could span lifetimes.

"I'm not sure that's a path I wish to walk," he said finally, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. He stood up, pushing the chair back with a scrape that seemed to echo through the tense silence. The candlelight played across the axe at his side, casting long shadows that danced across the floorboards.

Tobias's smile never wavered, his eyes still holding that knowing glint. "You may not wish to," he said, his voice a soft purr, "but destiny does not care for our desires. It merely unfurls its tapestry before us, and we are the threads that must weave our own fate."

The room felt like it was closing in on Arteus, the air thick with the weight of the words spoken. He could feel the eyes of the priests and townsfolk on him, their anticipation palpable. The candles flickered, casting jittery shadows that seemed to dance in time with the racing of his heart.

Tobias's gaze never left him, the challenge in his eyes unmistakable. "Are you leaving?"

Arteus took a deep breath, his hand still clenched around the axe. "I need answers," he said, his voice firm. "And I don't think you're the one to give them."

Tobias's smile remained, unwavering. He raised his hand, a gesture that seemed to encompass the tavern and all within it. "Then seek them," he said, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. "For the truth is not found by those who sit idly by, but by those who dare to venture into the unknown." His hand swept towards the tavern door, the candle flames seeming to bow in its wake.

Arteus turned and walked away from the table, his boots echoing in the silence that had descended upon the room. The whispers picked up again, a murmur of voices that grew louder as he approached the exit. He knew the townsfolk were watching, their eyes filled with a mix of hope and fear. He had given them no promise, no assurance, only the truth of his doubt.

As he reached the tavern door, it swung open, and in stepped Lady Kathleen and Sam Bower. The room fell silent once more, the tension palpable as the two figures strode in, bringing with them a gust of cold wind that sent the flames of the candles flickering. Kathleen's eyes searched the room, finally landing on Arteus. Her expression was a storm of emotions: relief, anger, and perhaps a touch of fear.

Arteus felt a jolt of surprise as she met his gaze, her eyes flicking over him, assessing his condition. Then, with a slight shake of her head, she turned away, as if he was nothing more than a forgotten piece of furniture. It was a deliberate snub, a clear message that she had more important matters to attend to.

Sam Bower's eyes narrowed as he took in the scene, his gaze lingering on Castrol outside before settling on Arteus. The man's posture was rigid, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. Arteus could feel the animosity rolling off him in waves, a stark contrast to the calm demeanor of the priests who had stepped aside.

As Arteus approached the tavern door, Lady Kathleen and Sam Bower made their way through the crowd to where Tobias sat. The air grew taut with anticipation as the two newcomers approached the table.

"Arteus," Castrol's voice stopped him before he could take another step, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. "What say you of this 'Tobias Kingg'?"

Arteus paused, and looked back at Castrol, his eyes cold. "I don't like him," he replied, his voice laced with distrust.

-To Be Continued-