The desert wind was savage that afternoon. The sun hung low, its light casting long, red shadows on the dry stone and canvas of the Moon Tribe caravan. Even among so many warriors, Vaen stood out being muted, blindfolded, his black robe flying behind him like a banner of dusk in motion.
He had just finished his perimeter sweep when air beside him shifted.
Disturbance in reality. Silent, but definite.
And then, a presence descended.
"Took you long enough," Vaen grumbled without glancing about.
From behind a wrinkle in space, a man stepped. He was a tall figure, dressed in dark silver armor with stripes of crimson running down the arms like dried blood marks. A caped cloak flowed behind him, and his face, though unreadable behind the obsidian mask, exuded age-old authority.
Lieutenant Colonel Ashvan Drayke, the seat of the Eastern Field Army of this region, once again walked beside the blind man who had once been a forgotten forest outpost guard.
"You've grown, Rank 2 already," Drayke said with a chuckle. "You can see fate now, can't you?"
Vaen didn't answer immediately. His head turned slightly, as if gazing at something beyond the mortal plane.
"Blurry," he replied. "Strings in a storm."
"This is where it begins. After that, the storm shall divide," Drayke stated. "And when it does, your sword won't just slice flesh. It'll slice fates."
Vaen didn't flinch. "You didn't come by to welcome me to my upgraded skills."
"No," Drayke acknowledged. "I came with a purpose. One that suits someone of your one-of-a-kind presence."
Vaen tilted his head slightly, interested.
"Your world is a Tetraverse. A Rank 4 world. Gods' bonds, bloodline rulers, pride poison," Drayke went on, his voice hardly above a whisper. "It must be broken."
Vaen didn't dispute. He had lived in ignorance of it all, submerged and betrayed beneath it. Without General Primus Tenebris, he would have died as a discarded guard in an unimportant post.
Drayke continued. "You don't need to do it by yourself. You need to build a body or take an existing one on which the old ones can feed. You won't be their public face, of course. That would be inconvenient."
"You want me to rule in the shadows," said Vaen.
"More like spin your will on the threads of your choosing," Drayke replied. "To burn a god's church to the ground, best to ignite your own flame to fill the gap."
Vaen remained impassive. "So you wish for me to form a cult?"
Drayke chuckled half-heartedly. "No, Vaen. A power. An empire whose heart is devoted to you. You needn't sit upon the throne but the throne must bend to your will."
He paused, then said, "And the sweetest part? You already have your leaders."
Vaen frowned. "Leaders?"
Drayke's voice grew playful. "Think about it. Who else would you lead to the edge of death? Who do you trust? Who will know your secret or will one day?
There was a flash in Vaen's mind: Yu Rael, standing beside him ahead of the secret land, swords flashing in time. Her confession under moonlight, reluctant but sincere. And then others, others not yet introduced, but whose fates were already beginning to weave into his.
Drayke stepped forward, his shadow merging with Vaen's.
"Your women. Your friends. They'll be your pillars," he told him. "One empire, multiple faces
but all tied to you."
Vaen remained silent.
"I know it's a lot to ask all at once," Drayke spoke. "But your world hangs in the balance. The gods slumber now, but not forevermore. When they stir, blood will engulf continents. You need power. You need loyalty. And most of all."
He pointed towards Vaen's heart.
"You need belief."
And then, in a whirl of wind, Drayke's body burst into flames.
"You'll see it soon, Vaen. You'll meet them. One by one. Let them burn this rotten system with you."
And then, he vanished.
Vaen stood alone once more, wind brushing past his cloak, the scent of dry firewood and spice hanging in the air from the camp.
A force.
A new order.
And Vaen smiled for the first time in days.