The two warriors in navy blue plate armour say nothing as they inspect me through a variable lens. Satisfied that I am disease free, they open the doors to the meeting room and shove me in. Scrolls and tombs lay sprawled out on various tables. Small gems contained within hanging lamps bathe the room in a tungsten glow. The comforting warmth sinks to nothing as it reaches a table as if a black hole was pulling it in.

Harper stands at its head, scrutinising a map with various landmarks and cities. “I’m surprised these bandits in black can read, yet here we are.” She waves to the room's contents. “They are scheming and positioning themselves on the board.”

I follow her finger to the Tower, its name redacted and a new one freshly inked beside it - ‘Blackhold’.

“Not very creative,” I say.

“Ambitious though.” She points at more strongholds positioned deeper in the wilds.

I thought I was seeing the topography of an island, this is the entirety of Silva. The west is occupied by several large cities of man. A bare strip, ‘No-man’s land’, separates them from the Daemon wetlands with its crumbling towers on the far coastland.

Yorkton appears close to the edge of the forest. Having travelled that distance myself I knew the truth of it. Using that as a scale meant this land was vast.

A lone York sigil caught my eye, near a loch or fjord far from any settlement.

“You aren’t that different then.” I indicate the mark.

She scoffs with disgust. “Merely associating our Houses is insult enough, do not compare us. That isn’t a land grab like this ilk intends. That is where the raid will commence over the edge.”

Over the edge. My curiosity nags at me, but it’s a question for Russ. Harper would see through me in a leaf fall.

She dismisses the map and beckons for me to join her at a small table in the corner. Drinks are already poured and waiting to be enjoyed. With a wave, she chills them both, frosting the glass and sampling hers before continuing.

“Raids, as you know, are incredible opportunities for discovery and wealth. They also take years of planning. It is a war and thus requires logistics and supply and all that boring detail.”

“Are you trying to recruit me?”

“No, I already have enough dogs to feed. What the Yorks need are Satyrs.”

“Then go make a bid, I’m sure you have the money.” I push the drink away and go to stand.

A heavy clunk stops me as she places a brass sextant on the table.

“Of course, we have more than simple coin and gems. Though we offered those first of all. Then we pulled our most delightful little toys out of our deep vaults. And can you believe it, they still said no.”

“The little weeds wanted a seat at the table. Can you imagine, their flag flying side by side with our own? It would be a crime not to refuse them. Scum will eat and consume like voracious beasts, scared the food will soon run out like it always has. They will want our seats next, our cities. Order must be maintained above all else. It’s why we have laws, and why I have you. To skirt them.” She smiles with wicked confidence.

I want to leave. To cut the strings and flee, but too many depended on my success tonight. And curiosity is a fickle bitch.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“What is it?” I nod to the sailors' tool.

She picks it up and adjusts the lever arm. Instead of angles, a series of runes are displayed along the bottom arc.

“A device looted on our last raid into the Harrowing Mists. Unbelievably valuable, capable of offering this uppity house more land to rule and ruin than they deserve. And you will use it to bid for the slaves at the auction.” She says while handing it to me.

“Me? Why would I do that? Last time you gave me a job, you lied about the details. I know you wanted the brothel owner dead.”

She holds my gaze, unflinching. “Not just her, but you also. Took a little nudge to coax those Blackroots boys there. Considering the vendetta they have against you, I had hoped they would sever the lead for me. Useless as ever.”

A chill runs through me. The candles blow out and the crystals ice over, leaving us in a moonlit room. My breath hangs before me as the misty witch regards her pawn.

She takes my hand in hers as the ring she gave me reappears. “Reputation can turn an army from your gates or stir the plebs into a force. We can’t create laws and not follow them in public. It’s how society works. A dog bites his master's enemies and is put down for being rabid. But what a stir you have made in this dark tree’s dirt. That outburst in Undercity thawed my heart and filled my lungs with joyous laughter. I must thank you for that Seth. But now you must play a crucial part today.”

Whatever she needed from me, I couldn’t refuse. With a flick of her hand, I’d be naked and powerless. I had to wait for an opportunity.

“The Blackroots will kill me on sight, but I think you already know that seeing as the building is empty.”

“Yes, we cracked the whip on those that destroyed the street. Even if it was a gutter. But since I saw you skulking in the basement, I assumed you were looking for an invite to the auction. Now since negotiations have fallen through we need a little law-breaking.” She hands me the tool and nods to a set of blue uniforms hanging over a chair.

The curve of her legs was so… stimulating. Hanging there, restrained and exposed before the room. If only I’d thought to use shackles back in my sanctuary. The things I got away with amongst these beasts are astonishing. A word here, a saying there. Bless that pathetic Mother and they were on their knees, begging for guidance.

Of course, the years of research and interrogation with various slaves helped to back up my facade. But these creatures are so dim-witted they were practically born to be ruled.

A black uniform smoothly appears beside me.

“Haven’t you spent enough time with these fiends already? Or do you miss being their Voice?” Tarak-Son questions with a far too much accusation.

How dare he question me? After his failures maintaining our position amongst the Houses. I see them laughing now, all because he can’t catch one man.

“I am merely relishing in my accomplishments. Shame you can’t say the same.”

The gavels' bang erupts to quell the crowd. The auctioneer just sold the final item before the slave sales began. The Aspirant Daemonlord’s whistle went to a member of House Marten from Falsgrave. A sinking dread fills me. Tarak-Son’s glare turns to surprise with the same realisation.

“Weren’t the Clifftons supposed to take the whistle home?” He asks.

“Bollocks, we are getting distracted with petty squabbles while these pompous twats whisper and surround us.” I huff with frustration at my rising anger. The very same rage that got me exiled into the wilds from my family's legacy. The Blackroots will be mine to inherit once our Lady passes. Father will be choking in his shallow grave the day that happens. But I must ensure I don’t gain a ruined estate.

Tarak-Son nods towards our Lady as she glides around the room, circling slowly towards us. He turns back to me with the air of worthy professionalism that has carried him to such heights in his career.

“Kai-Son, I must forget the past and apologise to you as a brother. With the respect you have earned. I’m sorry.” He says whilst offering his hand.

I take it and accept as the Lady finally reaches us.

In an obsidian garment of high class, she stands almost shoulder height with the dangling Satyr. Splendid and strong, I feel pride wash over me as she treats us with her presence. Her large hands caress my cheeks like she did in my childhood. Then jealousy sweeps through as they move to Taraks’.

“My Sons, the forest stands strongest in a gale when the trees thrive together and our roots reach deep. The soil plentiful, wouldn’t you say?” She regards the auction dome and its collective wealth of bodies and artefacts.

“Ay my Lady.” We say together.

“But the whistle-” I begin.

She hushes me with a little squeeze. “Merely loose pebbles in the downfall, where they bounce means nothing as the world slides away. The next part is key to it all. Take the stand Kai-Son. Split the slaves between the Houses and Guilds as we’ve planned. We’ll move mountains in the strife that follows and settle in the new world, in a new age.”