When he spoke, his voice was like honey poured over broken glass:
"Foolish humans, you have done well. But you are not worthy to stand in the presence of the great lord."
As he stepped out of the sigil, the blood that had been used to draw it suddenly evaporated, leaving behind scorch marks that would never fade.
The air grew even heavier, and in the distance, hounds began to howl as they sensed a wrongness in the world that their simple minds could not comprehend.
"I am but a servant of the great Lord, here to prepare for his return."
Those n in grey robes looked confused as the naked being smiled, watching them.
***
Enjoy new adventures from empire
While darkness gathered in Bormur, the Imperial Palace of the Empire stood as a beacon of apparent tranquility amidst a world in chaos.
Beyond its towering walls, the empire's citizens were gripped by a feverish anxiety over the impending teor shower - an event that ancient prophecies claid would herald the arrival of both heroes and daemons.
Astrologers and seers had been in a frenzy for weeks, their divinations speaking of a convergence that would shake the very foundations of the world.
Yet within the palace grounds, an artificial calm prevailed.
The imnse structure, with its sweeping spires and gilded towers that pierced the clouds, maintained its daily routines with deliberate precision.
Servants scurried through marble halls, courtiers engaged in their usual political machinations, and guards stood at their posts with unwavering vigilance.
This carefully orchestrated normalcy, however, was about to be disrupted by the arrival of a most unconventional prince.
As dusk painted the sky in hues of amber and violet, Jaegar approached the palace's main entrance - a set of colossal doors that lood thirty ters high, crafted from enchanted tal that was said to be impervious to both mortal weapons and magical assault.
The young wizard-prince, nephew to the Emperor himself, presented a stark contrast to the grandeur around him. There was a seven-ter-wide opening in the left door, where guards and officials typically passed through,
He casually strode towards the door, munching on a burger with evident satisfaction.
Jaegar's appearance was always a source of quiet scandal among the court.
Unlike his cousins, who dressed in the finest silks and traditional robes of state, he preferred simpler attire that allowed for ease of movent and practicality in spell-casting.
Today was no exception - he wore a weather-beaten traveler's coat over comfortable, if sowhat worn, clothing. His unruly dark hair, which settled on his shoulders, gave him the look of a common wanderer rather than a scion of the imperial bloodline.
The guards at the entrance, resplendent in their ceremonial armour that glead even in the fading light, imdiately recognized him.
They bowed deeply, their movents precise and practiced, creating a path for his entry while giving him a mindful glances. They didn't stop him or question him. They were clearly afraid of Jaegar, as the look of nervousness evident on their faces.
Jaegar barely seed to notice, focussing instead on savouring the last few bites of his al. Yet beneath his seemingly oblivious exterior, his keen magical senses were already mapping out the flows of power and politics within the palace walls.
News of his arrival spread through the palace like wildfire, carried by hurrying knights and whispered between servants.
In a grand chamber deep within the west wing of the palace, the first ripples of reaction began to spread.
Prince Vlaran, Jaegar's eldest cousin and the Emperor's firstborn son, was holding court with his half-brother Castor, the Emperor's acknowledged bastard. Castor had sworn his loyalty to Vlaran even before the Crown system had begun. He gave up the right to throne and remained at the side of Vlaran.
Their discussion of state matters ca to an abrupt halt as a knight burst in, his golden armour clanking with his haste.
"Your Highness," the knight announced, slightly out of breath, "Prince Jaegar has entered the palace grounds."
Vlaran's reaction was subtle but significant. His fingers, adorned with rings of office and magical sigils, tightened almost imperceptibly on the arms of his ornate chair.
Vlaran stared at the knight for a few minutes, thinking of the reason behind his abrupt visit. Vlaran was a man of careful calculation; every movent and decision was weighed for its political impact.
After a mont's consideration, he turned to Castor.
"Castor, perhaps you should go and welco our dear brother?" His tone was pleasant, but the order beneath the request was clear.
Castor, who had inherited his father's broad shoulders and martial bearing but not his legitimacy, gave a tight nod. Both n understood that this was no simple greeting - it was a move in the complex ga of power they played daily.
-
anwhile, in the East Wing of the palace, the place for the private chambers, a knight hurriedly strode towards a chamber door and burst forth.
A couple of won were laid on the plush mattress around a single man, and he was moving frevently on top of won , his face contorted in pleasure. The knight's eyes widened in shock as he realized he had disturbed the prince.
Lorcan sprawled amid a collection of scantily clad courtesans as he stopped his action and turned to the knight. The won were all naked, intoxicated as they were, and seed undisturbed by the sudden intrusion.
The guard knight kept his eyes firmly fixed on the ceiling as he delivered his report.
"My Prince, Prince Jaegar, has just entered the palace."
Lorcan, despite his reputation for hedonism, reacted with surprising alertness. He felt like cold water splashed on his face.
He extricated himself from the tangle of limbs and silk, asking sharply, "Is my elder brother inside the palace?"
Upon receiving confirmation, Lorcan began to dress with uncharacteristic haste.
Unlike Vlaran, who viewed Jaegar as a political piece to be manoeuvred, Lorcan harboured a complex mix of emotions toward his cousin - part rivalry and part fear. Most of all, he was terrified of Jaegar's return.
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