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The cold wind lashed the curtains, making thin shadows dance along the walls of the room.
Silence was absolute; even the air seemed to hold the remnants of the energies still smoldering throughout the chamber.
Ereon stood beside Éon's bed, motionless and alert — a dark figure cutting through the presence in the room like a blade waiting.
"Did it take longer than expected?" His voice sliced through the silence.
Suddenly, a chuckle slipped from the darkness of the window before Karna sprang nimbly into the room, landing with light grace.
"Ha… ha… ha… when you're surrounded by eight well-trained knights, taking them down without killing them tends to take time." He straightened, his usual smile emerging. "You know how it is: you can't just chop heads off when you want answers."
Karna then looked at Éon, unconscious on the bed. His eyes narrowed, the lightness vanishing.
"Looks like someone died before dessert." The half-smile disappeared. "The bells were ringing, soldiers running back and forth, people shouting about the 'marquis's son'." He stepped forward, his voice lowering. "I thought it was an exaggeration… but apparently, it wasn't."
Ereon did not answer. The silence seemed to stretch into seconds that felt far too long.
Karna frowned, his voice hardening:
"So it's true, then. You killed the marquis's heir." He exhaled, laughing awkwardly. "You just declared war on half a kingdom, Ereon."
The prince turned slowly, his shadowed eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight.
"The marquis's son chose his own fate."
"Yeah, sure…" Karna retorted, wetting his lips, ironic. "I bet his fate involved being pierced by a blade — maybe his own father's."
"Enough," Ereon cut in, voice low but firm. "The consequences have already been set in motion."
Karna drew a deep breath, pacing in circles as if trying to organize his thoughts.
"Do you have any idea what you've done? The marquis is one of the queen's pillars. She'll use this as an excuse to hunt you to the ends of the world."
"Let her." The reply was dry. "There are worse things than the queen's wrath."
Karna stared at him for a moment, disbelief written across his face.
"You talk like you have a plan."
Ereon shifted his gaze to Éon, then returned it to him.
"I have a path. Not a plan." He paused. "And you will follow part of it."
"I need you to go to the Marquisate of Tirésias." His voice carried like a sentence. "Take the five who proved useful. Tell Limia and Phoebe that the war has begun — even if it hasn't officially been announced."
Karna remained still for a few seconds, then let out a muffled laugh, incredulous.
"You know… sometimes I wonder if you're even human."
"We don't have time for questions." Ereon stared at him directly. "You leave tonight."
"Right…" Karna murmured, looking away, resigned. "You know I only stay because I trust him." He pointed to Éon. "Not you."
Ereon let slip a faint smile — almost imperceptible.
"That's enough."
Karna approached the window, resting a hand on the sill.
The moon reflected in his eyes — the playful tone gave way, for a moment, to the coldness of a warrior.
"If I die because of you, I swear I'll come back from hell just to hunt you."
"If it happens, it will be just another one," Ereon replied, emotionless.
Karna inhaled deeply, the usual smile returning briefly.
"Ha… ha… ha… always with ready answers."
Without another word, he leapt through the window, disappearing into the night.
The room fell silent.
The wind stirred the curtains again, and Ereon placed a hand on his brother's forehead, murmuring something the wind carried away before it could be heard.
Ereon remained still for a moment longer, hand still on his brother's forehead.
The sound of the wind ceased. The castle seemed to watch.
Then Ereon lifted his gaze to the door, a shadow lurking behind it.
"You never cease to surprise me," he said, with the calm of one observing a well-laid piece. "Is eavesdropping on princes one of your habits, Cassian?"
On the other side, Cassian remained motionless. Ereon's presence pressed through the wood, heavy as steel.
"My orders were clear: observe the princes. And so I shall," he stated firmly, without hesitation.
Ereon tilted his head slightly, a restrained smile, eyes sharp as blades.
"This will be your only chance to fail or triumph," he said slowly, measuring every word. "Do you understand the weight of that?"
Cassian felt a shock run through his body, as if the blood hesitated in his veins, and for an instant, he felt incapacitated, trapped under the weight of those words.
Recovering, he straightened his posture, voice firm:
"My orders remain. Observing is my duty, and so I will," Cassian replied, voice steady, defiant, even under the oppressive weight of Ereon's words.
Ereon walked to the door, opening it slowly. His purple eyes met Cassian's golden ones, a cold smile on his lips.
"Tell me… where does your loyalty lie?" he asked, deliberately, measuring every reaction.
"With the king," Cassian replied firmly, maintaining hostility, though the pressure of Ereon's words weighed on him.
"And, as heir to the throne, I presume you extend that loyalty to us, the princes?" Ereon continued, pausing to gauge every muscle, every expression.
Cassian remained silent, fists clenched, jaw tight, eyes fixed on the floor, breathing controlled.
No gesture of submission, only contained hostility.
Suddenly, the air around Cassian became oppressive, each breath a blade stabbing into his lungs.
The blood in his veins throbbed, burning under his skin, and each muscle seemed to turn to iron in flames, trembling beyond control.
""Aaah… nghh… nnn… aaahhh!" — the scream tore out, stifled, each syllable ripped from his throat as if his body itself refused to obey.
The ground seemed to dissolve beneath him. Cassian fell to his knees, arms trembling, trying to support himself.
Each movement amplified the pain: a sharp shiver ran down his spine, teeth grinding, body twisting as if life itself betrayed every fiber of his existence.
""Nghhh… aaahhh… pqhh… aaahh!" — another scream, choked and fragmented, escaping only as a muffled whisper, echoing the despair consuming him.
Sweat ran down the corners of his face, breath came in jolts, each heartbeat a rhythmic torture.
Time stretched, elongating as if each second lasted an eternity.
Each breath burned and froze at the same time.
Each heartbeat hammered in his mind, reminding him he was alive, trapped, with no escape.
When the pain finally subsided, Cassian was on his knees, panting, body still trembling. He lifted his head, eyes brimming with shock and the intensity of what he had just felt, and asked, voice still broken:
"W-what… did you… do?" Cassian murmured, still kneeling, voice blending shock, pain, and surprise.
"Breaking your body was only a reminder of what I can do to your essence," he said, impersonal, as one enunciating a law, not a threat. "This was your second warning. Challenge us again and your existence will be erased, without a trace."
Ereon kept his gaze on Cassian, measuring every reaction, every trembling breath.
"Tell me… where is His Majesty, the king?" he asked, firm, not easing the pressure of the moment.
Cassian, still kneeling, breathing unevenly, lifted his head, maintaining respect but without yielding to intimidation.
"His Highness is in his office," he replied, voice clear, formal, carrying the reverence of one who acknowledges authority while maintaining the posture of a diligent servant.
Ereon tilted his head slightly, satisfied with the answer, a shadow of a cold smile crossing his lips.
"Very well." His voice was low, almost a whisper of steel. "I leave my brother in your care. Keep him safe until my return."
Without waiting for a response, Ereon turned. Each step echoed down the corridor, firm and silent, his overwhelming presence gradually fading.
Cassian remained kneeling, motionless, feeling only the echo of footsteps disappearing through the castle halls.
The air felt lighter now, yet the weight of the warning still pressed on his shoulders, etched like hot iron into his skin.
A few minutes later, Ereon reached the king's office door, raising his hand to knock. Before he could touch the wood, the monarch's voice cut the air, firm and calm:
"Enter."
Without hesitation, Ereon stepped in. The atmosphere was dense, heavy; the king regarded him and spoke:
"After today's events, I would have summoned you in the morning." His voice hardened, penetrating — "Give me a reason to keep you alive."
Ereon smiled briefly, almost imperceptibly.
"Well… ending what troubles him could be considered a good reason, right?" he replied, voice calm but full of confidence and determination.
The king narrowed his eyes, sharp evaluation.
"I'm afraid I do not know what you refer to, Prince Ereon."
Ereon advanced slowly, each step measured.
"I didn't realize Your Majesty was unaware of your own body's condition."
The king, without moving, unleashed a powerful energy that seemed to compress and suck all the air from the room.
Ereon maintained the smile, though with each breath he felt the air burn like embers, challenging his very presence.
"I would like to know what leads you to believe there is something wrong with my body." The king spoke slowly, each word heavy as iron. "Be careful, Prince Ereon: the next words you utter may decide if I forgive you… or if I command your end."
Ereon smiled briefly, fearless. His purple eyes glinted like blades; there was a certainty that asked no permission, only offered a pact.
"The North doesn't need a chained king…" he said, voice low and measured, each syllable chosen with precision. "But an awakened dragon."
The hall seemed to swallow the sound. The king moved an inch, fists clenching beneath his cloak; the aura around him thickened, as if the very stone of the office recognized the word.
There was, in the air, something ancient and dangerous — a response not only from the man but from what ran through his veins.