The dungeon was suffocating. Its narrow, stone walls seemed to close in around them, and the smell of damp and decay hung heavily in the air. Torchlight flickered weakly in the hallway outside the cells, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed almost alive.
Rafe sat slumped against the wall of the cell, his face pale and drawn. Kalden paced in short, nervous bursts, occasionally shooting glances toward the barred door as if expecting someone to burst in at any moment. The others in their group huddled in silence, their faces a mix of despair and confusion. None of them spoke of the Black Pendant incident; the memory of their failure weighed too heavily.
Suddenly, the faint echo of footsteps reached their ears. Slow, deliberate, and unhurried, the sound sent a chill through the cadets. The footsteps stopped just outside their cell, and a shadow stretched across the floor—a tall figure, cloaked and hooded, stood silently, their face obscured.
The air grew heavier, an almost tangible weight pressing down on the room. Rafe was the first to react, scrambling to his feet with wide eyes.
“W-we can fix this!” he stammered, his voice cracking. “It was just...just bad luck! We can make it right!”
Kalden stepped forward, his hands trembling but clasped together in supplication. “Please, just give us another chance. We’ll do whatever it takes to prove ourselves worthy!”
The figure said nothing, but their presence was suffocating, radiating an aura of power and judgment. The silence stretched on, the tension mounting with each passing second. One of the younger cadets collapsed to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Please... don’t punish us like this!” Rafe pleaded, his voice rising in desperation. “We’re loyal—loyal to the cause, to the nobles!”
The figure tilted their head slightly, as if observing them like insects under a glass. The movement was unnervingly deliberate, calculated.
“W-why won’t you say anything?” Kalden’s voice cracked, and his fear gave way to anger. “You can’t just leave us here to rot!”
And then, without warning, the figure took a single step forward. The torchlight flickered ominously, casting their shadow across the entire cell. Before anyone could react, a faint, almost imperceptible glint of something purple caught the light in the figure’s hand—a vial, no larger than a finger.
“What’s—” Kalden’s words were cut short as his eyes widened in horror. He clutched his throat, gagging, as a stream of purple liquid spilled from his mouth.
Rafe staggered backward, his face contorting in pain as the same liquid bubbled up from his lips. Around the cell, the other cadets convulsed, their hands clawing at their throats in a futile attempt to expel the poison. Their bodies seized, spasmed, and then fell still.
The figure watched, silent and unmoving, as the last cadet collapsed to the ground. Their breathing slowed, then stopped altogether.
The cloaked figure turned, their movements unhurried. As they stepped away from the cell, the sound of their boots echoed hollowly in the corridor. A faint trail of violet smoke curled from the now-empty vial in their gloved hand. Without so much as a glance back at the lifeless bodies, they disappeared into the shadows, the dungeon once again silent save for the distant drip of water.
As the figure left, a small object—a pin or emblem bearing a noble crest—slipped from their cloak and clattered softly to the ground just outside the cell. The torchlight reflected off its polished surface before it was swallowed by the gloom.
The figure’s final act was subtle yet chilling: they closed their gloved fist and crushed the vial into fine shards, letting the fragments scatter into the darkness as if to erase any evidence of their presence.
The air in the dungeon seemed heavier in their absence, the lifeless bodies of the cadets lying still as the faint scent of something sharp and acrid lingered in the air—a sinister reminder of what had just transpired.
**
The morning air was crisp, a rare moment of tranquility within the Academy’s austere walls. Yet that calm shattered like glass as a sharp cry echoed through the corridors. Whispers spread like wildfire, the hushed voices weaving through the crowd of cadets gathering near the main courtyard.
I didn’t pay much attention at first—gossip was constant here, a murmuring undercurrent beneath the weight of our daily routines. But then I caught fragments of conversation as I passed by.
“Dead?”
“All of them?”
“They were in the dungeon, right? How could this happen?”
I stopped in my tracks. Renar, walking a step behind me, stiffened as the words sank in. My pulse quickened, and a knot of dread formed in my chest.
“What’s going on?” I asked a nearby cadet, my voice steady despite the unease creeping through me.
She turned to me, her face pale. “The cadets—Rafe, Kalden, and the others—they’re dead. Someone found their bodies in the dungeon this morning.”
I felt the air leave my lungs. “Dead?”
“It was a suicide,” the girl added in a hushed tone, her eyes darting around as though the very walls might overhear her. “They used poison. That’s what the guards are saying.”
Renar stepped closer, his expression unreadable but his jaw tight. I could almost hear his thoughts running alongside mine. Suicide? That didn’t make sense. If they’d planned to take their own lives, they would’ve done so right after they were captured—when the shame of their failure was fresh. Why wait days?
“Let’s go,” I said, my voice low.
Renar and I moved through the courtyard, the murmurs of the cadets fading behind us as we made our way toward the infirmary. I didn’t know what I expected to find, but I had to see for myself.
The bodies had already been taken away by the time we arrived, but the tension in the air was suffocating. The guards stationed at the dungeon entrance wore grim expressions, their usual indifference replaced by unease.
“This isn’t right,” Renar muttered under his breath.
Before I could respond, a voice called out to us.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
Lorian jogged up, her stride still cautious as she continued to recover from her injuries. Her expression shifted from confusion to alarm when she saw our faces.
“Lorian,” I began, “there’s been an... incident. Rafe and the others—”
“They’re dead,” Renar finished, his tone clipped.
Her eyes widened. “What? How?”
“Supposedly, they poisoned themselves,” I said, my words bitter in my mouth. “That’s the story being told.”
Her hand went to her mouth, and for a moment, she was silent. Then she shook her head. “No. That doesn’t make sense. Why would they—”
“It doesn’t,” I cut in. “And that’s why we’re going to find out what really happened.”
The three of us stood there for a moment, exchanging glances. The unspoken understanding between us was clear: this wasn’t over. Whatever had happened in that dungeon, we needed answers—and soon.
**
Confrontation with General Darius
The door to the Headmaster’s office loomed before us like a stone sentinel, its polished surface reflecting the faint torchlight from the corridor. Standing beside me, Renar’s usual composure was taut, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Lorian, on my other side, looked uneasy, her fingers fidgeting at the hem of her sleeve.
“Are you ready for this?” I asked, glancing at them both.
Renar gave a curt nod. “We need to know what’s going on.”
With that, I pushed the door open.
The room was much as I remembered—stately and austere, its walls lined with maps and military memorabilia that spoke to General Darius’s storied career. Behind the large oak desk sat the man himself, his imposing frame somehow making the chair beneath him seem smaller.
His sharp eyes lifted as we entered, scanning the three of us with an expression that betrayed neither warmth nor irritation. “Cadets,” he said evenly, setting aside the papers he had been reviewing. “I assume you’re here about the recent... tragedy.”
The weight of his words pressed against my chest, but I forced myself to remain composed. “Yes, sir,” I said. “We need answers.”
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Darius’s gaze lingered on me for a moment before shifting to Renar and Lorian. “This matter has already been addressed. The cadets in question made their choice. It is an unfortunate end, but not one that requires further speculation.”
His tone was calm, measured. It was the voice of someone who had delivered bad news countless times before, someone who saw death as an inevitability in the life of a soldier. But there was something else in his demeanor—something guarded.
“With all due respect, sir,” Renar spoke up, his voice steady, “it doesn’t add up. If they were going to take their own lives, why wait until now? Why not act when they were first captured?”
Darius’s expression didn’t waver. “Fear can manifest in many ways, Cadet Renar. Perhaps they held out hope that their punishment would be lenient. When it became clear that it would not, they took matters into their own hands. Such decisions are not uncommon among those who feel they have no other escape.”
I clenched my fists, the leather of my gloves creaking softly. “And the method they used? Poison hidden in their teeth?”
“A standard precaution for operatives involved in sensitive missions,” Darius replied. “It’s not unheard of among those who are... employed by noble houses.”
That caught my attention. He was careful with his words, almost as though he were treading a fine line between revealing too much and maintaining plausible deniability.
“Noble houses,” I echoed, my tone sharper than I intended. “So you’re saying they were acting under orders?”
Darius’s gaze hardened. “Mind your tone, Cadet Illiad. I am merely stating facts. The investigation has concluded that these individuals acted on their own accord. Their actions, though regrettable, do not warrant further inquiry. This matter is closed.”
His words were final, a wall erected between us and the truth. But I wasn’t convinced. Neither was Renar.
“If it’s closed,” Lorian interjected hesitantly, “why does it feel like there are still pieces missing?”
Darius’s eyes shifted to her, his expression softening slightly, though his authority remained intact. “Because you are young, Cadet Lorian. You believe every puzzle must have a complete picture. But in the real world, some answers elude us. Learn to accept that, or it will consume you.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. I wanted to argue, to demand the truth, but I knew it would be futile. General Darius wasn’t just a man of the Academy—he was a decorated soldier, a strategist, and someone deeply entrenched in the power dynamics of Valtheris. If he wanted to stonewall us, there was little we could do to change that.
“Understood, sir,” I said finally, though the words felt like ash on my tongue.
Darius nodded, his gaze lingering on me. “Good. Dismissed.”
As we turned to leave, the weight of his stare followed us out of the room. The door clicked shut behind us, and the tension that had held me upright seemed to drain away.
Renar exhaled sharply, his hands flexing at his sides. “He knows more than he’s letting on,” he said in a low voice.
“Of course he does,” I muttered. “But he won’t tell us. Not yet.”
Lorian glanced between us, her expression troubled. “What do we do now?”
I looked down the corridor, the faint hum of the Academy’s daily life seeming distant and hollow. “We find our own answers,” I said. “No matter what it takes.”
**
The Trio’s Theories
The air outside General Darius’s office was cold and oppressive, though the torches along the hallway flickered brightly. Each of us wore an expression of quiet tension, the kind that comes from staring at a puzzle whose missing pieces feel just out of reach.
Renar was the first to break the silence as we walked. “What he said about the cadets…” His voice was low, as though even the walls might listen. “It doesn’t make sense.”
I nodded, my fists tightening at my sides. “If they had poison in their teeth, they would’ve used it immediately after they were captured. They didn’t. Why wait days just to die?”
Lorian frowned, her brows furrowing in thought. “Maybe they were holding out for a rescue? Or maybe they didn’t even know they had the poison until someone… reminded them?”
Renar let out a sharp exhale, his hand running through his hair in frustration. “No, that doesn’t track either. Even if they were hoping for rescue, it wouldn’t explain the timing. And we know they weren’t the kind of people to willingly die for some misguided sense of loyalty.”
“They weren’t,” I agreed, my voice quieter now. Memories of Rafe and Kalden flashed through my mind—the smug superiority, the bravado, the desperate need to prove themselves. They were ambitious, yes, but not the kind to throw away their lives without a fight.
“And then there’s the timing,” Renar added, his eyes narrowing. “This didn’t happen during the commotion of their arrest or even their first few days in the dungeon. It happened after they’d been sitting there, festering in the dark.”
“Exactly,” I said, my mind racing to connect the dots. “Someone got to them. Someone who didn’t want them to stand trial or spill whatever secrets they were carrying. The poison… it wasn’t their decision. It was a command—or worse, forced on them.”
Lorian’s eyes widened slightly, the color draining from her face. “You mean someone might have… killed them? Like, personally? But the guards—”
“Would have been easy to bribe,” Renar interrupted, his voice clipped. “Or intimidated into silence. And whoever did it would have been someone powerful enough to cover their tracks. Think about it—no one even questioned the so-called ‘suicide’ explanation.”
I clenched my jaw. “It’s too clean, too convenient. Whoever orchestrated this wanted it to look like a loose end tied up neatly. But it’s anything but.”
Lorian hesitated, her voice trembling slightly. “Then… who? Who would do this?”
Renar and I exchanged a look. The answer was obvious, even if we didn’t want to say it aloud.
“House Rithane,” I said finally, the words heavy on my tongue. “They have the influence, the resources, and the motivation to silence anyone who could expose them.”
“But why go to such extremes?” Lorian asked. “If the cadets already failed their mission, why not just let them rot in the dungeon?”
“Because failure isn’t the issue,” Renar said, his tone grim. “The issue is what they know. If Rafe, Kalden, or the others talked, it could have implicated the Rithanes—or worse, revealed something bigger. Something they couldn’t afford to let slip.”
Lorian bit her lip, her expression troubled. “So… you think the Rithanes are covering their tracks? But why would they risk getting caught doing something like this? If anyone found out…”
“That’s the thing,” I said, my voice dropping to a near whisper. “They don’t care if they’re caught—or rather, they don’t believe anyone can catch them. Their reach is long, and their enemies are few. Who’s going to stand up to them? General Darius? The Academy?”
Renar nodded grimly. “And this isn’t the first time they’ve done something like this. It won’t be the last.”
A heavy silence fell over us as we reached the end of the corridor and stepped out into the open air. The crisp breeze carried the faint scent of earth and metal, a reminder of the Academy’s militaristic foundation.
“So, what do we do now?” Lorian asked, her voice quieter now.
I looked out over the training grounds, the distant figures of cadets sparring beneath the midday sun. “We do what we’ve always done,” I said. “We keep moving forward. We stay vigilant, and we dig deeper.”
Renar placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm. “And we don’t trust anyone we don’t have to.”
“Agreed,” I said, meeting his gaze.
Lorian still looked uncertain, but there was a spark of determination in her eyes now. “I’ll follow your lead,” she said. “Both of you. But… if the Rithanes really are behind this, what’s stopping them from coming after us next?”
“Nothing,” I admitted. “But that’s why we have to stay ahead of them. This isn’t over—not by a long shot.”
As we stood there, the weight of the moment settling over us, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The Rithanes had made their move, and now it was our turn.
**
Seeds of a Greater Conspiracy
The shadows of the Academy felt heavier than usual as we made our way back to the dormitory. The revelations from General Darius, paired with the unsettling nature of the cadets’ deaths, left a bitter taste in my mouth. Something wasn’t right—not just about what happened, but about the broader picture.
We gathered in Renar’s room, a dimly lit space cluttered with books, maps, and notes he’d accumulated over the years. It was quieter here, away from prying eyes and ears. The faint glow of the lantern cast flickering shadows on the walls, but it wasn’t enough to dispel the unease I felt in my chest.
“Something doesn’t add up,” I said, breaking the silence. “If the Rithanes really did this to cover their tracks, it means whatever the cadets were after—the Black Pendant—was more important than we realized.”
Renar nodded, pacing the room with his hands clasped behind his back. “It’s not just about the pendant anymore. It’s about the implications. Why did the Rithanes want it so badly? What were they planning to do with it? And more importantly, why would they risk exposing themselves just to silence a few pawns?”
Lorian, perched on the edge of a chair, looked between us with furrowed brows. “What if it’s not just the Rithanes?” she asked cautiously. “What if there’s more to this—like a bigger network or… or other nobles involved?”
Her words hung in the air like a storm cloud. It wasn’t an unreasonable theory. The Rithanes were powerful, but even they couldn’t maintain their grip on Valtheris without allies.
Renar paused, his gaze sharp. “You’re suggesting a coalition?”
“I’m saying it’s possible,” Lorian replied. “Think about it. The cadets didn’t just steal the pendant; they were acting on orders. What if those orders didn’t come directly from the Rithanes but from a group working with them? Or worse, a group working in the shadows, using the Rithanes as a front?”
The idea sent a shiver down my spine. “If that’s true, it means we’re not just dealing with one enemy. We’re dealing with an entire system—a web of corruption that stretches deeper than we imagined.”
Renar crossed his arms, his expression darkening. “And if that’s the case, we’ll need more than just guesses to fight back. We need proof—something concrete that ties the Rithanes to their allies and exposes their plans.”
I nodded slowly, my mind racing. “The Black Pendant might be the key. Whatever power or information it holds, it’s valuable enough that they were willing to kill to keep it hidden. If we can figure out what it does or where it came from, it might lead us to the answers we need.”
“But how do we do that?” Lorian asked. “It’s not like we can just walk into their estate and demand an explanation.”
Renar smirked faintly. “No, but there are other ways. The pendant has to have a history—a trail of ownership, perhaps even legends surrounding it. If we dig into the right archives or question the right people, we might find a lead.”
“And there’s another angle,” I said, my voice firm. “The cadets themselves. Even if they’re gone, their actions might have left traces—letters, conversations, something that points to who gave them their orders. If we can find it, we might uncover a piece of the puzzle.”
Lorian hesitated, her gaze flickering to the window. “But what if we’re wrong? What if we’re just chasing shadows?”
I met her eyes, my expression resolute. “Then we keep chasing until the shadows lead us to the truth. We’ve come too far to stop now.”
Renar placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip steady. “You’re right. This isn’t the time to back down. If anything, this is proof that we’re on the right track. They’re scared, Illiad. Scared enough to make mistakes. And that’s how we’ll beat them.”
The room fell into a contemplative silence, each of us lost in our thoughts. The weight of our task was enormous, but so was the fire burning in my chest. This wasn’t just about revenge anymore; it was about justice—justice for those who had been silenced, for those who couldn’t fight back.
“They’ve shown their hand,” I said finally, my voice quiet but filled with determination. “Now it’s our turn. Whatever secrets they’re hiding, we’ll uncover them. And when we do, they’ll regret underestimating us.”
Lorian and Renar nodded, their expressions mirroring my resolve. Together, we had faced darkness before. Together, we would face it again.
As we extinguished the lantern and stepped out into the night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something much larger. The seeds of conspiracy had been sown, and the battle ahead would test us like never before. But no matter what, I was ready. We were ready.