The temple elders convened in a room filled with flickering candles.
Their faces were grim, shadows dancing across lined features as they whispered hurriedly.
"He survived," one said, voice tight. "And the people… they are beginning to speak."
"The city is restless," another added. "Rumors are spreading. If this continues, we will have no control over Eldros."
A third elder slammed his hand on the table. "We cannot allow this to continue. He is a heretic! A blasphemer! The pyre should have ended him!"
Outside, the city moved as if guided by invisible hands. Every whispered tale of the "Watcher" grew in subtle power, shaping the behavior of the masses. Merchants became wary, children stared in awe, and even the guards hesitated when speaking of him.
Arin watched from the edge of the city, still unseen, still calm. He did not need to act openly. Influence did not require visibility. Authority grew quietly, like roots beneath the earth.
Riven had begun his work in earnest. Rumors became stories, stories became lessons, and lessons shaped perception. Every whisper increased Arin's unseen presence, each one reinforcing the idea that he was more than mortal.
By midday, a group of temple acolytes arrived in the market. They moved with purpose, scanning for signs of the heretic. The people stepped aside, uncertain, their eyes flicking toward shadows that might not exist.
Arin stepped forward slightly, enough for one shadow to notice him. No words. No threats. Just presence. The acolytes faltered. A chill ran through them, unexplainable and deep.
Authority +12
That evening, the temple elders convened again. This time, fear lingered in their words.
"He manipulates without moving," one whispered. "He controls through silence, rumors… even the storm."
Arin observed quietly from a distant rooftop. Every word, every thought of the temple, fed his growing authority.
He smiled faintly. The city, the temple, even the gods themselves—they were all beginning to notice. And that was exactly what he wanted.
The first public display of subtle influence had succeeded. The seeds of the Veiled Doctrine were taking root.
And in silence, Arin whispered to the night:
"Let them wonder. Let them fear. The world will follow, not by force… but by belief."