While the world of Evernia prepared for this magnanimous change in history, others were a bit more guarded.
Dionocles, the Chief Diviner, returned to his humble abode that evening, slumping to his leather chair and staring at the furnace that blade on his fireplace.
"A grave mistake this is," he spat. "But the King won’t listen. I’ve tried to talk him out of it, but his ears are deafer than a corpse’s."
He stroked his beard in frustration, his eyes reflecting the fire as his thoughts trailed away. "Perhaps, I should have been softer with the outworlder. We were too arrogant for people whose fate rests on his shoulders."
A grave, hopeless sigh left him as he poured himself so wine, slouched in his chair, and let the night take him.
"Tomorrow, the Priests and Priestesses must begin prayers so we can speak with the gods."
Not far away from Dionocles’s ho, in the high district of trodorian, the weight of this plan settled on the House of Nightfall.
The Night Mansion as their estate was called, was a seizing beauty at this ti, or at any ti.
The gothic building rose from an elevated hill with soaring spires of black basalt and lancet windows that glowed a bright orange that made it impossible for anyone outside to see in.
Obsidian gargoyles with orange golden eyes stood at sides of the house, and a long passage of marble bedecked the floor, leading all the way to a tall iron gate and a fence made of cobblestone.
Inside, Grigor, head of the Nightfalls, stood in his study, scanning through tos on his desk.
Unlike his normal self, Grigor looked troubled. The to before him was about the most ancient Classes. The ones that no longer existed because the Gods deed them too powerful for humans.
Of all these Classes, he couldn’t find anything on Necromancer. He also couldn’t find anything on the history of Evernia that pertained to what to do if a Hero refuses to aid the world.
Frustrated, Grigor collapsed to his chair and sighed, squeezing the length of his nose as the lamplight cast long shadows on his face. Footsteps broke the silence and then a soft knock.
The door creaked open.
"Father? You asked for ?"
Grigor turned. Standing there was his daughter, Nessa.
Because of her training, she was slightly different than she had been just a few weeks ago.
She had cut her hair, a requirent for every Assassin, and rather than the colorful dresses he was used to her wearing, now she mostly always wore her dark training leathers.
If it wasn’t for her voice, he would barely have located her as she had blended effortlessly into the dim corners of the room.
Nessa Nightfall was now a Lvl. 17 Assassin with the Legendary Talent of Shadow Manipulation, a prodigy even among the elite.
Grigor was proud. Assassins weren’t necessarily a desired Class, they usually had Rare and at few tis, Special Talents. But Nessa awakening with a Legendary Talent put a completely different spin on the unloved Class.
"Co in, Nessa," Grigor said, his voice heavy.
She stepped inside, her silver eyes sharp and attentive. "Is this about the King’s decree? The Heroes Party?"
"Yes. The selection has begun," Grigor nodded. "The Guilds are fighting over contracts, the Academies are pushing their students to the breaking point. But none of that matters right now."
He looked her in the eye.
"Are you worried they won’t pick , Father?"
He smiled. "Quite the opposite, my lovely child. I fear that they will. Certainly, with a Legendary Talent, your na is at the top of the list, Nessa."
Nessa straightened, an acknowledgnt of responsibility crossing her face. "I am ready. My shadow manipulation has improved. I can serve the realm well, Father."
"Yes, yes. I know this, Nessa," Grigor cut her off, standing from the chair and stepping closer. "I have pushed you to beco stronger, and you’ve grown so much that it is undeniable that you will be sent on this mission. aAnd perhaps this is hypocritical of . It was this mission I was preparing you for in the first place."
Nessa gazed into her father’s worried eyes.
"But this major turn has changed everything for ," Grigor looked sideways and sighed. "You see, with the Hero, I was half certain of victory. But now, I feel like I’m a father rely sending his daughter to her demise."
Nessa’s eyes lted. "Father."
He placed a hand on her shoulder, his grip tight with a father’s fear. "The King builds this party out of hope, but hope is fragile. Without Percival... without the Hero... this road is a death sentence."
Nessa frowned. "You speak as if we have already lost. The Legacy Awakeners will be with us."
"They can only take you to the door," Grigor whispered with urgency. "Listen to , Nessa. There is a reason why the Hero and only the Hero can kill the Demon Lord. It is not rely because he can level up past the limit. The tos I read here, they all point to one truth."
Nessa narrowed her eyes, expecting more. But Grigor stopped speaking, his eyes turning to the large redbound to on his table.
"What truth, Father?" Nessa pressed. "Father."
"Forget it, my daughter," Grigor tapped her gently. "Don’t bother yourself with the ramblings of a mad man like your father."
Nessa stared at him.
He leaned in, his eyes intense. "I need you to know this for now. I have not given up on the Hero. I know he is out there, grinding, getting stronger on his own terms. Until I can find him, until I can convince him to take his place... your primary objective is to survive."
"You are my child and this is my Kingdom so I say this acknowledging my hypocrisy but unable to defeat my love for you. Do not be a hero, Nessa. Be a survivor. Wait until I get Percival Nightstar to side with us."
Nessa looked at her father, seeing the rare vulnerability in his eyes. She nodded slowly. "I understand, Father."
"Good girl." He squeezed her shoulder lightly. "Go now. I’m sure you have so training at this ti."
She obeyed.
Grigor watched her go, knowing that his advice could only get her so far. As long as she was in that Heroes Party, her fate was suicide.
He had to find Percival. It was the only way to ensure she ca back.
The only way the Nightfalls would rule strong.
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