Deep in the forest, far from the Void Defense Society’s searching, a slender figure in a dusty cloak crouched beside a stream. In that water, she washed black ichor and red blood from her hands. The latter... was not her own.
Sevra of the Shadow Whisker Sorority examined her reflection in the nearly still, now murky water. A small pouch at her waist held the item she’d retrieved from the caravan’s wreckage. Recovered only hours after the Voidlings descended upon it, which had been well over a day ago by now.
The orders from the Guild itself had been clear: trace the path of the smuggler caravan, intercept if possible, and retrieve any artifacts they were sneaking through without being detected. At the ti of getting these commands, she hadn’t known much more than that. She hardly even knew how her Sisters had even stumbled upon the shady movent.
And she hadn’t known she’d have to rcy kill two of the mortal smugglers whose path she had tracked to question them. They had been left screaming with their slow but fatal wounds. Black ichor seeping from their torn guts. Her hand shook slightly and disturbed the water again.
"That’s going to be a fun nightmare."
What hadn’t been part of her orders was the examination of the object itself. She could have simply taken the obvious box along with her, but so instinct made her break inside it first. Perhaps just to see what it was that led to those people’s deaths.
Unknown material with a strange form. Semi-circular, solid ’rings’ that extended from a polar axis suggested an overall sphere shape as a base. Inscribed with sigils even older than those at the gravity anomaly site. Ancient, mysterious, and absolutely out of her wheelhouse.
Just like the region the Saltfire Storm Alliance had her scouting with her Astralism.
Sevra recognized imdiately that it was the kind of artifact that no one should be ssing with. Could feel her instincts, or her cowardice, telling herself to chuck it down a dark hole that no one would find for so ti. Because her first thought had been that Elua er Goltbred may know what it is - if no one else did for sure.
She checked to make sure the pouch was still secured and rose to her feet. Now she faced a decision that she didn’t like. Deliver the artifact as originally ordered by her Guild, or seek out the one person she knew might understand its true significance... and hope that wasn’t dooming them all.
That Qatrand er Yecine had been right, that her brother had been right, and that her ingrained fear of the reincarnator prophecies she had lived with her whole life were either wrong... or not about the heiress who had shown surprising rcy at the wedding celebration.
With the silent steps of a well trained scout, Sevra disappeared into the forest. No significant trace of her passing would ever be found. Behind her, the evidence of the caravan’s fate would be pointing investigators in every direction except the right one.
Because she had picked up the only surviving paper with any references to who was responsible. A docunt that didn’t say much, but made it clear the item she picked up was transported for an individual known as ’T.’, to be delivered to an ’A.Y.’ as soon as possible.
⟠ ⟠ ⟠
A windowless chamber deep within the fort had been privately taken over for an ergency eting. Seven elders of the Yecine faction sat in a half-circle, their faces illuminated only by a single essence lantern. The air was thick with a deep tension... and the bitter scent of a dicinal tea no one was bothering to drink.
"The Void Defense Society found a destroyed caravan. Three wagons, multiple casualties. Their reports ntioned what we’d call a distinctive frog."
One elder finally announced, breaking the heavy silence that had persisted since they sealed the door. Anper sat with his fingers steepled... looking toward the other man and speaking in a flat tone. He’d already been prepared for this news.
"Teovar lost the item."
"Almost certainly. And there’s been no word from him through any of our channels."
The youngest elder present shifted uncomfortably. He was the sa one who had brought Anper news of Qatrand’s first leader-class kill and that the caravan was supposed to be moving through the first disturbance zone. And it was he who had been responsible for running the ssage to et up to all of the others.
"If the artifact is lost-"
"Then our primary approach is no longer viable. We’ve invested considerable resources into this plan. Years of preparation, positioning—all wasted because of a rchant’s incompetence."
Another elder snapped, his hard-lined face as severe as all of them put together. Again, Anper looked and replied to the man in a deceptively calm tone.
"Perhaps. Or... because of intentional interference. Let’s not forget who had involvent with the project to draw the Voidlings to that area in the first place. The Goltbred girl."
A heavier-set elder with a gold bangle on his wrist tapped his finger on the table for emphasis. He had long been of a more moderate mind during all of their planning.
"This is a sign. We should reconsider our path. The original plan had rit when our ’heir’ was rely another average cultivator. But now?"
He used the sa hand to gesture expansively. Implying that this affected them all.
"Two leader-class Voidlings. In a matter of days. The stories are spreading faster than we can track them. More scrutiny than ever will follow us and anything related to our family."
"Abandoning now would waste everything. The Goltbreds still hold their lands, their valuable silver mines, their trade agreents with the Opal Scale Guild. Assets that rightfully belong in hands with the numbers to make use of the resources they-"
"Enough. Our goals remain unchanged, even if our thods must adapt."
Anper’s firm voice cut through the brewing argunt. While he technically was not in charge, most of them were willing to let him lead a preceding since the entire matter centered around his own child. The youngest elder however, frowned because he knew what had been said in their talk.
"With such attention on Qatrand, won’t any... direct move against the Goltbred family invite more scrutiny than before?"
"The Continental Army, Void Defense Society, Ironclad Order, and so many other organizations were already going to investigate if sothing were to happen to a previous ’hero’. Our pawn’s fa changes nothing."
"Lirades has been snooping on our movents and quietly gathering support."
A tense silence fell over the group as Anper revealed this. The ntion of the eldest woman of the family hung between them like a suspended blade. She had served as a voice of principled opposition to almost anything the family ever did in the past.
"Then we must act swiftly, before her influence spreads and she finds sothing! Direct action. Clean. Final."
The hardest faced elder spoke his mind and the youngest in the room recoiled.
"Murder? Really? That was never-"
"We agreed our approach would avoid bloodshed if possible. That was a condition of many elders’ support. One who are suspiciously not here."
The heavy-set elder reminded them, being one of the few constantly oppose to any ’cruder’ plans during the formation of the idea. In fact, he had been the very one to suggest the convoluted marriage plan in the first place. Appreciation for his patronage in the years after was why Teovar had gifted him the bangle he wore.
"Circumstances change. We cannot allow sentint to-"
"I said enough."
Anper rose to his feet, his expression betraying none of the simring rage that pulsed against his control.
"We will not abandon our real purpose, nor will we resort to crude assassination. Both approaches display a remarkable lack of vision."
He reached for the cup on the table, took a asured sip, and let the silence stretch until all eyes were fixed upon him. For they could tell by this frustratingly smug behavior that he had so sort of plan in mind.
"The attention currently on Qatrand is not an obstacle. It’s an opportunity."
"An opportunity? How so?"
The hard-faced elder’s skepticism was evident, but there was plenty enough curiosity in his tone that Anper began to pace a circle around the eting space. Deliberate steps that occasionally took him out of sight of at least one of them.
"Our original plan was elegant. Because it would have removed the Goltbreds from their influence without raising clear alarm. The artifact would have transported them, without evidence, to a location from which return was impractical."
"And in their absence, their holdings would naturally fall to their daughter. There is no need to explain the plan. Just get you your point now that such a plan is ash."
The elder who had started off the eting with his voice instructed him. The father-in-law of a dramatic flair wielding illusionist stopped his pacing with a click of his boots as he faced him.
"My point is that the final goal remains achievable. Transferring their holdings to our na. Qatrand’s newfound fa actually creates a few new possibilities."
An older elder with a trembling hand spoke up for the first ti.
"The competition grounds will already be granted to Qatrand after the Descent. The regional Guilds always reward its heroes with territory. That’s a significant acquisition for our family this cycle without risking any further action."
"A pittance of land in the eastern plains, unworked and unready. Compared to what could be ours. The Goltbred estate has been accumulating wealth for a generation."
"More importantly, their exclusive contracts with the rchants alone generate more in a year now than that entire ceremonial land would in the next five."
The heavy-set elder stroked his growing beard thoughtfully after the others had their say. No matter how convinced he may be, he would always choose to play the middle.
"Still, my older brother has a point. Pursuing more, so greedily, may jeopardize what we’re already guaranteed."
"And what guarantee do we have that Qatrand will properly manage these assets for family benefit? My daughter has been living under that girl’s influence for too long. Showing signs of... an independent thinking that is beginning to reject our family as her core."
Anper countered with his strongest argunt. Every elder shifted uncomfortably at the implication, having seen, felt, or heard about Elua er Goltbred’s displays at the competition grounds. Even the most denial-ridden could not pretend that the young girl was a harmless factor.
’More of a thorn than Ondua ever has been. But unlike him, she obviously *intends* to be. Just like her mother.’
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