The banquet hall was still being scrubbed clean when Rihan was summoned. Bloodstains marred the marble floor, the scent of ash lingering in the air. Guards whispered nervously, eyes darting at every shadow as though another Abyss-spawn might appear any second.
Rihan followed the silent knight down the corridor, his boots echoing against the polished stone. His team had returned to their quarters, but he had been singled out—"The King requests your presence."
The knight stopped at a towering set of gilded doors. With a sharp bow, he pushed them open.
Inside, the King sat alone.
Gone was the grandeur of his crown and ceremonial robes. He wore only a simple dark tunic, his sword at his side. His face, etched with lines of fatigue, turned toward Rihan as the doors shut behind him.
"Come closer." His voice was softer than Rihan expected.
Rihan obeyed, stopping a few paces away and bowing respectfully.
The King studied him in silence, his sharp eyes weighing him as though trying to peer into his very soul. Finally, he spoke.
"You fought well tonight. Without you and your companions, this hall would have drowned in blood."
Rihan kept his tone steady. "It was our duty, Your Majesty."
The King's gaze darkened. "Do you know what that creature was?"
"Yes. An Abyss-spawn. But not a natural one."
"Correct," the King said grimly. "It was planted. Fed. Brought into my palace under my very nose." He rose, pacing slowly toward the tall window that overlooked the sleeping city. "And I know who orchestrated it."
Rihan's pulse quickened. "Duke Varengar."
The King turned sharply, eyes narrowing. "So you saw it too."
Rihan nodded. "He didn't even bother hiding it. He wanted everyone to see his power. To see how untouchable he is."
The King's jaw tightened. For a moment, he looked less like a ruler and more like a man cornered by shadows. "Varengar controls half the nobility. His coffers are deeper than the royal treasury. His influence in the military is… troubling. Even I cannot move against him openly."
Rihan's hands curled into fists. "Then he's already winning."
The King's voice lowered, a whisper now. "Which is why I need you."
Rihan froze. "…Me?"
"You and your companions," the King said firmly. "Adventurers unbound by politics. Warriors who can move where my knights cannot. You have no ties to these vipers, no debts to the old families. That makes you dangerous to him. And that is why I ask this of you."
He stepped closer, his eyes burning with quiet desperation. "Expose him. Tear open his network. Find proof that even the nobles cannot ignore."
Rihan's chest tightened. He thought of the parchment, the Eclipse sigil burned into his mind. Of the Duke's mocking applause as the Abyss-spawn fell. Of Lyra's terrified eyes, Mira's sharp words, Elira's clenched fists.
Finally, he nodded. "We'll do it."
The King's shoulders sagged slightly with relief. But then his voice hardened. "But understand this—if you fail, I will be forced to disavow you. Varengar will strike, and I will not be able to shield you."
Rihan met his gaze. "Then we won't fail."
---
The Web of Shadows
Later that night, back in their quarters, Rihan gathered the others and relayed the King's words.
Kael slammed his fist against the table. "Finally! Permission to gut that snake."
Mira's lips curved into a thin smile. "Not so fast. The Duke doesn't play with open blades. He plays with whispers. If we charge in blindly, we'll be dead before dawn."
Elira's brow furrowed. "So… we investigate. Quietly."
Lyra hesitated, biting her lip. "But where do we even start? He could be anywhere. His influence is everywhere."
Rihan placed the parchment on the table. The Eclipse sigil seemed to writhe under the candlelight.
"We start with this. The Cult of the Eclipse isn't just working with him—they're fueling his rise. If we find their network, we find his."
Mira's eyes gleamed. "Then we go to the streets. Thieves, beggars, spies… they hear things nobles never will."
Rihan nodded. "Tomorrow, we begin."
---
In the Underbelly of the Capital
The capital by daylight was a city of splendor. By night, it was a city of shadows.
Guided by Mira, the group slipped through winding alleys, past shuttered shops and crumbling taverns. The air stank of smoke and cheap ale, the laughter of drunkards mingling with the cries of beggars.
They entered a hidden den beneath a rundown inn, where thieves and mercenaries gathered like crows. Dice clattered, coins exchanged hands, and daggers glinted under candlelight.
As they entered, the room fell quiet. Eyes turned, wary and suspicious.
Mira stepped forward, tossing a gold coin onto the nearest table. "We're looking for whispers. About the Eclipse."
The silence deepened. A few patrons shifted uneasily. One man spat on the ground.
"You don't speak that name here."
Rihan's hand went to his sword, but Mira raised hers, stopping him. She leaned closer to the man, her voice like silk and steel. "Then perhaps you speak it elsewhere. For the right price."
Another coin clinked on the table.
The man's eyes darted around nervously before he finally leaned in, lowering his voice. "There's a warehouse… down by the eastern docks. People vanish there. Always at night. They say… it's the Cult."
The room went silent again, as though the walls themselves feared the words.
Mira smiled faintly. "Thank you."
As they turned to leave, Rihan felt it—a gaze. Heavy, burning, watching from the corner of the room.
A hooded figure sat alone in the shadows, a faint glimmer of silver at their belt.
When Rihan met their eyes, the figure smirked—then vanished into the crowd.
---
The First Lead
Back on the moonlit streets, the group walked in tense silence.
"That warehouse," Kael muttered. "We burn it down, right?"
"No," Rihan said sharply. "Not yet. We watch. We see what they're doing. If it's the Cult, we'll need proof."
Mira adjusted her cloak, her expression unreadable. "And that hooded one watching us… they'll be expecting us."
Elira's voice trembled slightly. "Then it's a trap."
Rihan looked out over the distant docks, where the black waters of the sea shimmered under the moonlight.
"Maybe," he said softly. His hand tightened on his sword. "But if we want to stop the Duke… we walk into it anyway."
The wind howled through the capital's alleys, carrying with it the scent of salt, smoke, and blood yet to be spilled.