One month after the devastation of the Northern Barony, when the dust of war was already beginning to settle, the Northern hall remained silent. The king, isolated in his castle, was still assimilating the changes that had swept the world — and now needed to understand the presence of someone who had returned in an unexpected way.
The hall was silent, broken only by the soft clinking of parchments and the restrained echo of the servant's breathing. The king raised his eyes, his serious expression reflecting the concern of one who had lived in isolation, unaware of the recent changes in the world.
"Report me everything" said he, the voice firm but laden with curiosity. "Every detail that might affect our territory or our allies."
The servant bowed respectfully before beginning.
"Majesty, before detailing the recent events, it is essential to understand the structures that govern the world of divinities and of men."
He began with the functioning of the Church and the Temple, responsible for registering divinities that are reborn or awakened through lineage. It grants spiritual and social legitimacy, transforming even the weakest of the awakened into a noble before the world. But he warned: there is corruption; nobles of prestige can buy information and manipulate or harm those of inferior divinities.
"And the Guild?" asked the king, his eyebrow arched.
"The Guild is distinct, Majesty" continued the servant, in a firm tone. "Formed by those who crossed the Abyss, their awakening is not natural and, because of that, they receive distrust from the Church. There, anyone can enter; upon becoming a member, one receives a mark that grants free passage, protecting one's divinity and identity. Different from the Church, the Guild offers freedom and absolute secrecy, but this attracts disdain from the religious and political elites."
The king nodded, assimilating each word:
"There are, therefore, two paths: legitimacy with risk of manipulation or freedom with social disdain."
The servant bowed again:
"Exactly, Majesty. This division creates invisible tensions, political and social, that spread through all empires."
He took a deep breath before proceeding to the next point.
"Beyond society, Majesty, there is the hierarchy of bodies that defines the power of divinities among mortals."
The servant explained with reverence. The Awakened Body arises when the divine essence manifests, still unstable, bringing fragments of memory and instincts of an ancient god, but without total understanding of its origin.
The Purified Body harmonizes energy, body, and mind, making the being more resistant and slowing aging.
The Elevated Body allows one to manifest partial forms of divinity in a conscious way.
While the Transcendent Body transforms body and soul into direct channels of divine energy, altering the environment merely through the presence of the individual.
Within the Transcendent, there were degrees: Initial, Intermediate, Superior, Perfect, and Sacred. The servant paused, staring at the king:
"Majesty, few reach this stage. Those who possess it naturally approach the next level, and their energy can purify or corrupt others."
"Is there something beyond that?" asked the king, cautious.
The servant hesitated, choosing his words carefully:
"There are rumors of superior levels, Majesty, but they escape our understanding. Not even the oldest temples recorded such deeds. Even these advanced levels remain distant from the true power of the gods, whose forces surpass any hierarchy understood by mortals or by the oldest temples."
The servant then explained the difference between Awakening and Resurrection, essential points to understand the prince's return.
Awakening is the first contact with the divine spark. Fragments of memories and instincts arise, but the soul remains incomplete. Some awakened may evolve to Resurrection if they absorb the essence of a divinity, survive the Abyss, and keep their identity intact.
Resurrection, in turn, is the partial reconstruction of a divinity. It grants more knowledge and control than an Awakened, but there exists the risk of losing one's own consciousness. Many temples consider this forbidden.
"Therefore, Majesty" concluded the servant "it is through these processes that individuals may return from what would be common death or surpass limits once unimaginable."
The king furrowed his brow, absorbing the magnitude of the explanation.
"And that explains…" he murmured, realizing that the prince had returned in a form that transcends human comprehension.
The servant lowered his gaze before concluding:
"This is the essential knowledge so far. Some secrets still remain guarded, and certain limits must not be revealed until the proper time arrives."
The servant raised his eyes, reflecting on each word, and paused.
"Everything that Prince Ereon reported to us a month ago coincides exactly with what our intelligence managed to confirm, Majesty" said the servant, his voice firm, laden with meaning. "However, we still seek to better understand his relationship with the neutral nobles, as well as with the Western Marquisate."
The king leaned back on the throne, his fingers tapping lightly on the arm of dark wood. The sound echoed in the hall like a distant ticking, foretelling something.
"I understand…" he murmured, thoughtful. "Then it is time to hear from the source itself."
The servant bowed in silence.
"As requested, Majesty, Prince Ereon was summoned and awaits outside."
"Bring him." The order was simple, but its weight reverberated throughout the hall.
The servant withdrew.
The hall remained motionless. Only the distant sound of the wind cutting through the towers echoed, as if even the castle held its breath, waiting.
Then, the sound of the doors opened — slow, dragging — and the air seemed to change. An invisible cold spread across the stone floor, announcing the arrival of something that did not belong entirely to that world.
Ereon entered, his firm and serene posture dominating the space. The cold gleam in his eyes contrasted with the half-light of the hall, and each step of his sounded measured, deliberate, as if marking the time of destiny itself.
The king raised his gaze, evaluating him carefully — every gesture, every breath — like one who weighs hidden intentions.
But he was not merely observing: he was feeling. The energy in the air reacted to the prince's presence, vibrating subtly, as if something ancient and dormant awoke behind that serene gaze.
The cold in the hall did not come from the wind, but from his presence.
"So tell me, prince" said the king, the voice laden with authority and distrust "did you have any involvement in the war between the Central Kingdom and the neutral nobles?"
Ereon paused, measuring his words carefully, aware that each syllable could influence the destiny of the North.
"Majesty," answered Ereon, with a firm but controlled voice, "my involvement was limited. I interfered only when the balance of the conflict threatened to destabilize the North. Nothing beyond that."
He paused, letting his words echo through the hall, laden with meaning. The king studied each gesture, each microexpression, attentive to any contradiction, any shadow of deceit. The air seemed dense, heavy, as if even the light trembled with the tension.
The king closed his eyes for an instant, feeling the environment, weighing Ereon's aura, his intentions. When he opened them, the voice came firm, sharp, almost a blade:
"Tell me, then, exactly what this limited involvement was. Do not tell me half-truths."
Ereon let out a cold smile, filled with mockery but not arrogance — more like a dark whisper of one who knows he dominates the game. The calm of his posture contrasted with the suspicion that filled the hall.
"Well…" said he, the voice controlled, almost provoking, "I will start with my arrival at the Barony… until my last visit to the Marquisate."
He tilted his head slightly, the cold smile appearing at the corner of his lips.
"It will be a long story, Majesty."
The king did not reply. He only observed — and, for an instant, had the impression that the shadows around moved, bowing before the prince.
The silence ended the scene like a blade resting upon the throne.