The sunlight poured through the cracked shutters, casting golden streaks over the worn wooden floorboards. Cassius stirred on the thin mattress, the remnants of last night's vision still lingering behind his eyes. He blinked the light away, sitting up slowly.
Across the room, Korvek was already lacing up his boots, while Elric stood near the window, peering through a narrow gap.
Elric: "Nothing strange outside… Looks like they pulled back."
Cassius rubbed his temples, still reeling from the haunting vision and the confrontation with Jorvan. As he rose, Varcen muttered, stretching his shoulders.
Varcen: "That innkeeper's strength… not just for show."
Cassius: "Neither was that vision. It's still buzzing in my head."
Downstairs, the scent of fresh bread and smoked meat crept up the stairwell. One by one, the group made their way into the common room. The creaking of old floorboards beneath their boots was the only sound until they turned the corner.
There, gathered at the long tables, sat nearly a dozen men and women. Some wore mismatched, scarred armor pieces, their once-regal patterns fractured but faintly recognizable. Others had no armor at all, just quiet resolve in their eyes.
Cassius's gaze lingered on a young man near his age, his breastplate dented and scorched. He met Cassius's eyes briefly, then looked away.
Jorvan emerged from the back room, carrying a tray of mugs.
Jorvan: "These are no ordinary guests, lad. They're what remains of Veldrith's loyal shield."
Cassius looked between the strangers, eyebrows narrowing.
Cassius: "But… wouldn't the Merchant's soldiers arrest them? Like that preacher in the streets? You said anyone speaking of the old king was punished."
Jorvan set the tray down with a soft clatter and gave a wry smile.
Jorvan: "Those soldiers you saw—most of them hail from the southern dominions. They don't know Veldrith's faces. They see peasants, traders, wanderers. These soldiers," —he gestured around the room— "they were once knights, squires, captains. Now? Just ghosts with nowhere to haunt."
Soren leaned closer, scanning the crowd with analytical eyes.
Soren: "So they're hiding in plain sight."
Jorvan: "Exactly. And they believe, like I do, that our king is still alive."
The room grew quiet.
Korvek shifted uncomfortably as he spooned stew into his mouth.
Korvek: "Sounds like a dangerous belief to have in these lands."
Jorvan (calmly): "It is. But that danger reminds us that the truth is still feared."
They ate in silence after that, the weight of history thick in the air. Cassius watched the soldiers as they laughed softly among themselves, sharing bread like brothers long-separated. Their armor was rusted, but their hearts weren't.
---
Cassius sat at the table, chewing the last bit of his bread. He couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. The room felt strangely quiet, a silent tension hanging in the air as the last of the morning sun filtered through the dusty windows. Elric had already finished his meal and was scanning the room, eyes sharp, as usual. Varcen was busy wiping his hands, his gaze occasionally drifting to the door, as if waiting for something.
Jorvan: "You know, the king's soldiers are like ghosts. Some of them are still around... still loyal to him."
Elric, pushing his chair back with a creak, narrowed his eyes.
Elric: "Why are you so sure the king's alive, Jorvan? Do you have any clues?"
Jorvan: "Clues, yes... but nothing solid. There's just enough to keep hope alive." He sighed, his voice heavy with years of regret. "But with Merchant's men patrolling everywhere, I can't get near the old places in Veldrith anymore."
Varcen raised an eyebrow.
Varcen: "What kind of clues?"
Jorvan stood up, wiping his hands on his apron.
Jorvan: "Follow me,"
he said, his voice dropping low.
The group rose and followed him down the hallway to a creaky wooden door at the back of the inn. With a swift motion, Jorvan opened it, revealing a steep staircase leading down into the dimly lit basement. The air smelled of old wood and dust, and the flickering light from a single lamp cast long shadows across the stone walls.
Inside, the basement was cluttered with various items—old crates, faded maps pinned to the walls, and shelves filled with what seemed to be half-finished plans. The hum of the dim lamp overhead was the only sound, aside from their footsteps echoing off the stone.
Cassius(whispering): "What is this place?"
Jorvan: "A war room, of sorts. Old weapons, old secrets." He stepped forward, pulling a rolled-up map off the wall. "This map... it's from the old days. You see these tunnels under Veldrith? They weren't here when I was part of the army. But these new routes— they're strange, hidden, and dangerous."
Elric and Varcen moved closer, inspecting the map, the worn edges fraying under their fingers. It looked incomplete, like it had been hastily drawn, as though someone had wanted to keep the information hidden.
Varcen leaned in closer, his brow furrowing.
Varcen: "But why would they build new tunnels now, and not before?"
Jorvan shrugged, his face etched with frustration.
Jorvan: "That's what I'm trying to figure out. But... one thing's for sure: I believe the king is down there, somewhere."
Cassius's eyes caught something on the shelf—a small, cracked shard of something. It lay in a glass jar, almost discarded, as though it held no importance. He reached for it, feeling its cold surface under his fingertips. It was a piece of something... broken, dull, and lifeless.
Cassius: "What's this?"
Jorvan's expression darkened as he saw Cassius holding the shard.
Jorvan: "That's the king's relic. He gave it to me before the war, right before everything fell apart. But... I don't know what it is. I've kept it, because he asked me to."
Cassius turned the shard over in his hand, examining its cracked edges. He could feel the absence of energy, the emptiness it exuded. It didn't glow like the relic he carried.
Cassius: "Do you think the king's down there?"
Cassius asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jorvan hesitated, his eyes shifting to the map.
Jorvan: "I think so. These tunnels... they weren't there before. I think someone's hiding something—or someone."
Suddenly, the basement door creaked open. A young man, his face scrunched in anger, stormed in, his boots heavy on the floorboards. His armor was incomplete, patched with mismatched pieces, and a scowl was etched on his features.
Young Man: "What's all this? Why are you showing them our secrets?"
Jorvan sighed, rubbing his temples.
Jorvan: "Calm down, Rukon. They're not just 'outsiders.' They're from Ashenhold."
Rukon: "Ashenhold?" He scoffed, crossing his arms. "It doesn't matter. We can't trust anyone anymore, Jorvan. Not after what happened to Veldrith___and my wife."
The room fell silent, the weight of Rukon's words pressing down on everyone. Jorvan's eyes softened with a trace of regret.
Jorvan: "I know, Rukon. I know. But we need all the help we can get. We can't fight this alone."
Rukon stared at him for a moment longer, then muttered something under his breath and turned away. Just as he was about to leave, another man burst in, his face pale with fear.
Man: "Merchant's soldiers... they're patrolling nearby. They've already set up a checkpoint at the east end of town!"
A tense silence fell over the group. Elric's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword. Varcen's jaw tightened as his gaze flicked toward the door.
Varcen: "We need to move, now."
Jorvan (nodded urgently): "Cassius, Elric, Varcen, you need to head to your room. Now!"
Elric: "We should leave the inn. If we stay here, we're sitting ducks."
Soren's voice cracked with anxiety.
Soren: "But where should we go?"
Suddenly, they all heard it—the unmistakable sound of energy weapons firing in the distance. A sudden burst of static crackled in the air, and the unmistakable hum of energy blasts echoed across the town.
Cassius's heart pounded in his chest. He grabbed Soren's arm, pulling him toward the stairs.
Cassius: "We can't leave you both here!"
Elric: "You and the relic are more important. Get out of here, now!"
Jorvan's voice was urgent. "Go, now!"
But it was too late.
The faint sound of a knocking on the inn door echoed through the silence, followed by a pause. Another knock. Louder this time.
Cassius(whispers): "It's them. They found us."
Down below, in the dim cellar, surrounded by dust and old steel, the broken shard in the jar stirred.
A faint glimmer pulsed at its core—barely a breath of light.
Then, silence again. The glow faded, as if it had never been.
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