Location: Calensport, sovereigns chambers.
Time: Night
Servants moved around the sovereigns chambers, sweeping, dusting, and carrying wrapped parcels intto and from gear-wagons that drove in and out through the sovereigns mansion gates.
Drakovar Calvasset and veymont soldiers patrolled every entrance, each held their swords and rifles respectively.
Lord Marric of Solherene emerged from the Sovereigns mansion's grand door as he cradled a purring cat in one arm, its fur shining against the golden glowing lights.
He and the high nobles just concluded their indoor meetings.
Marric paused at the top of the mansions steps, watching servants and soldiers carrying out their duties.
Lady Marien now emerged from the mansions door, descending the stairs without sparing Marric a glance. Her expression was sharp as usual, her veymont guards forming a silent shield around her, as she stepped into her golden gear-wagon, its doors closing with a mechanical hiss, and within moments the vehicle pulled away, vanishing through the gates. Marric's gaze shifted breifly looking at marien stormed out, as his expression remained unreadable, and almost bored.
The sound of boots striking the steps came next as Lord Erry O'Kael strode out, with his broad frame. His aethersteel sword hanging sheathed at his side. His tip cigar glowed faint red in as breezed past lord Marric, grinning widely.
"Old nights and good rest, your grace!" Kael greeted cheerfully, puffing a stream of smoke as he marched down the steps. His guards fell in behind him as he climbed into his wagon, and took his leave from the sovereigns mansion.
Marric pets his cat gently, watching Marien and kael storm out of the sovereigns mansion, then a voice erupts from behind him.
"I used to attend royal classes with both of them, you know," veynar spoke with a calm voice.
Marric turned slightly to see Sylven Veynar approaching. As he moved with grandeur, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.
"Let me guess," Marric spoke with boredom "you all argued even back then?"
"Not exactly," Veynar replied with a faint smirk. He stepped forward to stand beside Marric. "They fought constantly. But… it was because of the Wardens."
"The Wardens?" Marric's eyes narrowed with interest now.
Veynar nodded. "The high noble houses never saw eye to eye, not for generations. The Wardens wanted to end the feuds between our families, so they tried something new, they thought that educating the heirs together would remove that long term hatred. The idea was simple actually very simple: raise the next generation to respect each other's beliefs, and maybe the wars would end with the old men who started them."
Then he paused. "I was schooled with Kael and Marien under the direct supervision of High Warden Socroft Magama. A brilliant man, too brilliant. He tried to teach us unity, to teach us to govern together rather than rule apart."
"And?" Marric asked, stroking the cat's head, as it purred.
"And then he died," Veynar said simply, with a flat tone. Lord marrics eyes cuts a quick glance to veynar and back to his cat.
"Some said it was natural, but my house has always believed Veymont and Drakovar joined together to have him removed. They called him a danger to their doctrines."
Marric chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Wardens do not die so easily — and any hand that strikes one down usually meets the same fate. If your story were true, Veymont and Drakovar wouldn't still be standing."
"Perhaps," Veynar agreed. "But it is what we were taught to believe." His expression softened as he turned to face the moonlit yard. "After Socroft's death, the custom was abolished. The houses went back to their rivalries, and here we are."
"And your house?" Marric asked, curiously. "Calvasset never took part in wars?"
"We only fight the wars that come to us," Veynar replied with a smile. "But yes — Kael and Marien turned their hatred on me often enough, accusing me of always plotting something. Especially Marien. When asked what she hated most about me when we were kids, she'd say… 'everything.'"
Marric gave a faint smile. "I can see that. You've been quiet all these days, but tonight you you seem to chat a-lot."
"Tonight I remember why I bear my house's sigils," Veynar said, confidently. "I have carried the weight of House Calvasset through years. And i will continue carrying it for many more."
He stepped back. "Perhaps I have kept you long enough, Lord Marric. Enjoy your night."
As he descended the sovereigns steps, a group of young women clad in sheer white linens ran laughing up the stairs past lord marric.
Each one paused to touch Marric seductively before vanishing into the mansion. Marric's head turns slowly towards the young women, slightly distracted as a slow grin curved his lips.
"Veynar!" Marric called suddenly.
Then Veynar turned, pausing near his wagon.
"You would make a fine sovereign," Marric said. "I only hope the other mid and low nobles who will be casting their votes would see it."
Veynar's smiled briefly as he climbed into his wagon. The vehicle starts, carrying him and his guards into the night. Marric watched until the last light of the wagon disappeared, then turned back toward the mansion, the cat still in one arm, his free hand already seeking one of the girls as he walks into the sovereigns mansion, shutting off the door.
Location: Nareth
Time: Night
Town Nareth still lay in ruins like a silent grave yard. Do not enter tapes fluttered weakly in the wind, around the town. Days had passed since the attack, yet the air still smelled of burnt timber and scorched earth. Buildings stood half-collapsed, and charred black.
Jori and Tomas stood beside Captain serric of House Calvasset, the glow of patrol torches casting long the sorched town. Calvasset Soldiers paced around professionally, their rifles held firmly within their hands, ready to use at a moments notice, their boots crunching over soots as they searched the area for any trace of what of lioras evidence.
"Captain," one of the soldiers called, saluting crisply. "We've scoured the entire sector. No trace of Valesse."
Captain Serric gave a slow exhale his hand letting go of an empty beer bottle. "You hear that, boys?" he said with a weary smile, glancing at Jori. "Sounds like 12,000 crowns about to slip through your fingers."
Jori swallowed hard and then spoke. "This place has changed so much. After the morticians removed the bodies, they probably swept away anything that could've proved what I saw that night…"
Serric nodded, scratching his stubbled jaw. Then he whistled sharply. A guard came jogging up with another bottle, as he snatched it, bit open its cap, and gulped down before speaking again.
"Look," he said, lowering his voice as he stepped closer to Jori and Tomas. His tone was calmer now, almost reassuring. "I know this isn't easy for you. Being back here — it's like walking through your own nightmares. But I need you boys to think hard, really hard. This search isnt just for me. If we walk away empty-handed, it'll be harder to keep that towns council from tossing you and your people out of the camp. You want them to see you as an asset, and not a burden."
Serric handed them both a fresh bottle of beer, his expression softening. "Take these if it helps keep you sharp. Any lead, no matter how small, could turn this whole thing around for you, and for me." He gave them a half-smile. "You find me something solid, I'll make sure you and your people are fed, sheltered, and treated well. You have my word on that."
Jori nodded firmly. "Yes, Captain."
"Good lads" serric said, as he turned leaving jori and tomas to think and search.
Later
Minutes turned into hours as they searched. Finally, Tomas came running back, breathing hard.
"Captain serric!" he called.
Serric was dozing off in a chair, beer bottle cradled against his belly, his snores rising over the ruined town. Two guards spun around, their rifles half-raised at tomas as he approached, but serric stirred at the sound of Tomas's voice. He blinked, wiped his mouth, and sat up, scrubbing his tired eyes.
"What is it, lad?" he asked, setting the bottle aside and hauling himself to his feet.
"Jori found something, and he calls for you."
Serric's expression cleared at once. "Lead the way." He clapped Tomas on the shoulder, following him toward the far edge of the ruins with two soldiers follow behind.
They found Jori crouched low, staring at the ground with a furrowed brow. His rght arm was tugging his knee, his free hand absently stroking his jaw as if he was piecing a puzzle together.
"Any leads?" Serric asked, tossing aside the last of his beer as he joined jori.
Jori pointed at a faint trail of gear-wagon tracks cutting through the soot. "Here captain, take a look at this tread, it means only one wagon passed through this route, and its not the kind of wagons that morticians use. I know this road. It leads toward city Solmere, but no passes around here with wagons unless they're trying to avoid being seen."
Serric crouched to inspect the tracks himself, his soldier's instincts kicking in.
"There are return tracks, too," Jori continued. "Whoever it was that came into Nareth… left that same night. And if what you said about Lady Liora being our person of interest, in tandem with what i saw, this could be her route out of nareth"
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then captain serric stood and brushed the soot from his hands, his face now serious.
"All right, lads. You might be onto something. I'll have this confirmed tomorrow. If your hunch is right, this will put you and your people in good standing, and I'll make sure you're rewarded fairly."
Hope flickered in Jori's eyes as captain serric turned away, already snapping his fingers for another bottle.
"Let's get back," serric said, his voice lighter again. "You've done good work tonight. Get some rest, tomorrow, we see what these tracks really mean."
Jori and Tomas exchanged glances, both standing taller as they followed behind. For the first time since the attack, it felt like they were finally taking a step toward justice and maybe a future worth holding onto.