Night consumed Sabio like a playful shadow—bent over scrolls as candles danced their merry waltz, their wax pooling in golden puddles on ancient stone. Death lurked in every lesson about court customs, but what a charming education it proved to be! Outside his window, a night guard's footsteps played a steady rhythm against courtyard walls, like a lullaby for the sleepless.
When violent pounding shattered the darkness, his hand froze over the parchment as if caught in a children's game."Open! By order of His Majesty!"Fear crawled up Sabio's spine like a mischievous mouse, but he rose slowly, deliberately—terror had taught him to move with such delightful grace! Terror had hardened overnight into understanding, that most precious of gifts. As he moved toward the door, a cat slipped through the shadows near his feet, vanishing into darkness with the wisdom only cats possess.A skeletal court official stood waiting, his thin face carved with the kind of disdain that comes from years of practice. Behind him, a kitchen slave hurried past with empty water jugs, her frightened glance telling Sabio everything about palace survival—such eloquent eyes, speaking volumes without words. Steam rose from somewhere deep in the building—the morning's bread already baking in distant ovens, life stubbornly continuing its ancient dance.
"Architect Sabio," the man announced coldly, adjusting his fur-trimmed cloak against the morning chill with the precise movements of one who knew his place in the world's grand theater. "His Majesty commands your fortifications begin today, or you shall face the king's displeasure most severely."Sabio's dark eyes remained steady as somewhere in the palace, a rooster crowed its daily boast of surviving another night. "Urgency reveals much about a kingdom's condition," he said—desperation made such delightful philosophers of men!The secretary's eyebrows lifted, momentarily distracted by servants lighting torches in the corridor behind him—such busy little ants, all serving their queen. "The king's patience hath limits—""As doth the patience of our enemies," Sabio replied quietly, watching a young page scurry past with an armload of fresh linens, another player in this endless performance.
The secretary studied his face while a bell began tolling somewhere in the distance—matins in the palace chapel, calling the faithful to their morning devotions. Such touching faith in divine protection, though gods so rarely answered prayers about fortifications. "Lycurgus doth await thee in the western chamber."
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Walking through corridors where servants swept yesterday's rushes from stone floors, Sabio moved with growing purpose. The scent of herbs and roasting meat drifted from the kitchens as cooks prepared the morning feast—such industrious creatures, feeding the machine of power. A scribe hurried past clutching scrolls, ink staining his fingers black like marks of servitude.In the antechamber, Lycurgus waited like a weathered statue, fine robes draped across his scarred arms.
His expression carried that particular grimness of men who had seen too much yet still hoped for better—though hope was a luxury few could afford here. A servant girl banked the fire in the corner hearth, sparks dancing up the chimney like tiny souls seeking escape."Thou canst not fail this simple task," Lycurgus said quietly, waiting until the girl had gone—even kindness required privacy these days. His voice carried the weight of years, of battles fought and friends lost. "Yet thy true purpose—buy time to find one who can turn thy drawings into stone."Sabio accepted the robes, confusion flickering in his eyes as a dog barked somewhere in the outer courtyard—such honest expressions of feeling, though honesty was dangerous in palaces. "And if we find none?""We shall." Lycurgus helped with the clasps, his scarred fingers patient and gentle, though hope seemed such a fragile thing in this place.
Through the window, horses clip-clopped against cobblestones in rhythms older than kingdoms. "Thou art precious to me, boy. Today, survive this choosing."Sabio's throat tightened with emotion as he saw the fierce love in his guardian's battle-scarred face. Such touching faith—though love was currency here and loyalty a luxury few could afford. Somewhere in the walls, mice scurried behind stone, and the morning light grew stronger through tall windows, illuminating truths that were better left in shadow.Through palace corridors that hummed with daily life, Sabio walked with purpose. Servants polished bronze fixtures until they gleamed, while others carried bundles of fresh straw for the stables—all part of the great pretense that order could be maintained through ritual, though chaos waited behind every door. The sound of hammering drifted from somewhere—a blacksmith already at work, sparks flying from his anvil like hopes dying in darkness.
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At Kakodaimon's quarters, Sabio knocked and waited, listening to the distant sound of children playing in the servants' quarters—innocence still existed here, though for how long? Life continued despite the morning's darkness, oblivious to the games played above by those who held their fates."Enter."Inside, braziers warmed the air while tapestries stirred slightly in the draft—even luxury couldn't keep out the cold completely. The general's knowing smile made Sabio's stomach clench as somewhere outside, a merchant called his wares in the early market, still believing in honest trade—such naive faith in fairness.
"I know why thou art here," Kakodaimon said, his voice silk over steel, smooth as a serpent's whisper. He moved to pour wine from a silver pitcher, the liquid dark as blood in crystal cups—the metaphor was fitting in this place of beautiful violence. "For thy people. I remember thy words: 'Fear makes slaves of free men, while courage can make free men of slaves.'"Pretty words, though freedom was just another word for choosing which master to serve.Sabio's composure cracked slightly as a fly buzzed lazily near the window, drawn by warmth it couldn't understand would trap it—much like everyone in this palace. "Dost thou speak truth?""I shall grant thee thy kinsmen as workers. And Kyros, brother to Darius." Kakodaimon's smile sharpened as he set down the wine, untouched—even pleasure was a weapon here.
Outside, a cart rumbled past loaded with grain for the day's meals, feeding the machine that would grind them all to dust. "If thou dost work for me.""Why would I?" Sabio's voice barely held steady as the scent of bread from distant ovens reminded him of simpler times—before he learned that even bread came with chains attached."Because thou canst not build." Kakodaimon's voice grew soft, deadly, while somewhere a clock began chiming the hour—time, that great destroyer of hope and dreams alike. "One word from me, and thy robes become burial shrouds. Thy kinsmen return to chains."Elegant threats—cruelty had become so civilized in this place where power wore silk gloves.Sabio's hands clenched as his breath misted slightly in the cool air. "How dost thou know such things?"Kakodaimon laughed—a sound like winter wind through bare branches, beautiful and barren as everything else in this cursed place. A raven cawed outside the window, black wings visible against gray sky, death's messenger making his rounds with reliable punctuality. "I am an evil spirit. Knowledge comes to me as naturally as breath."At least he was honest about his nature—refreshing, in this world where lies wore crowns and truth was treason.
Sabio felt his heart hammering as hope and terror warred in his chest while dust motes danced in the morning light—tiny particles, meaningless as human dreams in the face of power's appetite."Tell me of Lycurgus's weakest moment," Kakodaimon whispered, leaning forward like a confessor hearing sins, though absolution was not in his vocabulary. The brazier crackled behind him, casting shifting shadows on stone walls that had heard too many secrets, too many betrayals. "He threatens the Night Avnic's conquest. He must be removed."The words hit like physical blows—the heart could be broken so efficiently with simple syllables, each one a nail in love's coffin. Images flashed—Lycurgus's gentle hands, the love in his scarred face, the man who called him precious. Life provided such tender ironies, dangling affection before those who could least afford it.Tears threatened as every person he loved balanced on his decision's edge. Then something stirred in his memory, sharp as winter air through the window crack—survival, that most honest and ruthless of teachers.
He paused, his eyes sharpening with calculation as a church bell tolled somewhere in the city beyond the palace walls—calling the faithful to worship gods who seemed remarkably absent from human affairs, as usual."Wait." Sabio's voice grew steady, almost cold. A mouse skittered behind the tapestries as if even vermin understood when the game changed—creatures without illusions about the nature of power. "Thou dost want my help? Then thou must keep my secret. But I want more than thy silence."The student had become the player—necessity, that greatest and cruelest of tutors.Kakodaimon's predatory smile faltered slightly as he set down his wine cup with a soft clink. "What dost thou mean?""If I am to betray my mentor," Sabio said, each word measured like coins on a merchant's scale—everything had its price in this world, even love, especially love. "then thou must earn such treachery. I need something done."The general leaned back in his chair, wood creaking softly under the weight of shifting power, intrigued despite himself. A servant passed in the corridor outside, her footsteps muffled by rush matting—still believing in the illusion of safety that walls provided. "Speak."
"Go to my homeland. Bring someone back for me—Chakias. It must be done within two days." As he spoke, the morning light grew stronger, casting longer shadows across the room—light and darkness dancing their eternal dance, neither ever truly winning.Kakodaimon's eyes narrowed while somewhere a dog began barking at approaching riders—even animals could sense when change came calling, though they were powerless to stop it. "And who is this Chakias that thou dost value him above Lycurgus's life?"Footsteps had approached in the corridor outside, then stopped. Whoever it was remained listening, their breathing barely audible through the heavy door. A floorboard creaked under their weight—secrets had their own gravity, pulling listeners into orbit around power's dark sun.Sabio met the evil spirit's gaze directly as the brazier hissed and popped. "My father's partner. The greatest builder the Gives have ever known." His voice dropped to barely a whisper while wind rattled the shutters—even the weather conspired in this place where trust was folly. "The one man who can turn my drawings into walls that even gods would admire."Though gods remained remarkably silent about their architectural preferences, as they did about most things that mattered.
Kakodaimon leaned back slowly, studying Sabio with newfound interest as a cat meowed somewhere in the walls—another prisoner in this paradise of chains. "Thou dost trust me to go to thy homeland? What if I go there and kill everyone in thy family?"Sabio's eyes never wavered, though his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on the chair arm. "Thou wouldst not do that.""And why not?" Kakodaimon asked, swirling the untouched wine in his cup—even pleasure was performance now, another mask in this theater of cruelty."Because thou art not going to kill me here. And I have something of thine—a secret." Sabio's voice grew quiet, dangerous as distant thunder that promised storms. Outside, the morning market was beginning to stir—vendors calling, cart wheels grinding on cobblestones, the great machine of commerce grinding forward despite everything, as if coins could buy safety from the darkness gathering in palace halls. "Thou dost work for the Night Avnic. I have read the histories of this kingdom. Night Avnic is not supposed to exist. Any member must be killed by order of King Ushien the day he ascended the throne."Knowledge—the only currency that never lost its value, though it often cost more than gold to obtain.For a moment, silence hung between them like incense while the brazier crackled and a pigeon cooed on the windowsill outside. Even the footsteps in the corridor had gone completely still—fear was contagious, spreading through stone walls like plague.
Then Kakodaimon threw back his head and laughed—genuine, delighted laughter that filled the room with dark music, causing the listening figure outside to shift nervously in their eavesdropping. "Thou shouldst be a royal adviser rather than a builder, young architect. Such wisdom is wasted on stone and mortar."The general's laughter faded into a calculating smile as he leaned forward—amusement was just another mask in this place where sincerity was suicide. "Very well. Thy kinsmen shall be granted as workers—treat them as thou dost please." His eyes glittered with cruel amusement. "Though I confess, I was bluffing about Darius. The boy is... elsewhere."Truth delivered like a blade between the ribs—honesty could wound so efficiently when wielded by those who understood its cutting edge.
Sabio's jaw tightened, but he said nothing as a servant's footsteps echoed in the distance, another soul walking unknowingly toward whatever fate the powerful had decided for them."I shall want thy answer about Lycurgus the moment Chakias arrives at the palace," Kakodaimon continued, his voice soft as silk over steel, beautiful and deadly as everything else in this cursed place. "No delays, no excuses."Time—that merciless creditor—always demanded payment in full, with interest calculated in blood and tears.Sabio rose to leave, the chair creaking softly beneath him. As he reached the door, Kakodaimon's voice stopped him cold."Wait."Sabio paused, his hand on the iron latch as wind rattled the shutters outside—even the weather seemed to mock human plans, as if nature itself knew how futile their schemes were."Thou hast read the histories of this kingdom," Kakodaimon said, his tone suddenly thoughtful as a pigeon cooed on the windowsill—another creature that didn't know it was caged, much like everyone in this palace. "But tell me—do any books capture how there was a successful ascension from the Yrotciv dynasty to the Ushien dynasty? Does any tome record that particular... transition?"
The question hung in the air like poison while the brazier hissed softly—knowledge was dangerous here, but ignorance was fatal, and wisdom was just another form of suffering."Perhaps thou shouldst ask the princess," Kakodaimon continued, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "Or even Lycurgus himself. He will have much to explain." The general's smile turned predatory as a cat meowed somewhere in the walls—even pets were prisoners here. "Thou shouldst not walk around with partial knowledge, young architect. It does not suit thy... considerable intelligence."The footsteps outside the door had gone completely silent, and Sabio realized that whoever was listening had heard every word—secrets, like water, always found their way through the smallest cracks, carrying poison to every corner of this rotting palace.In this place, even walls had ears, and truth was the most dangerous weapon of all—which explained why it was so rarely used.
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The worker selection had been a performance—mountain men with stone-wise hands, his own kinsmen with fire in their eyes, others whose skills would serve his desperate charade. Sabio had played his part efficiently, the architect who knew nothing of building yet everything of survival in a world where competence was less important than the appearance of it.Evening shadows crept through the palace corridors like guilty thoughts as Sabio approached Lycurgus's chambers, though guilt was a luxury only the innocent could afford. A servant girl hurried past with oil lamps, their flames dancing against stone walls that had witnessed too many secrets, too many betrayals, too many hearts broken on the altar of necessity."My lord," Sabio called softly through the heavy door. "I seek audience."
"Enter."
Lycurgus sat by a dying fire, maps and documents scattered across his table like fallen leaves—or perhaps like the corpses of abandoned plans. His scarred face looked older in the flickering light—age was just another enemy to fight, though it was the one opponent that always won in the end."Why dost thou come to me at this hour?" Lycurgus asked, though his tone suggested he already suspected unpleasant truths—in this place, pleasant truths had gone extinct long ago.
Sabio moved closer, choosing his words with the precision of a man walking on blade edges, because that's what conversation had become here—a dance on knives. "I would know how there was a transition from the Yrotciv dynasty to the Ushien dynasty. The histories speak not of this change."Lycurgus's hand stilled on the parchment before him. "Some knowledge is better left buried, boy.""Yet ignorance serves no one, my lord. I have learned this day that partial knowledge is a dangerous companion." And complete knowledge, Sabio was beginning to understand, was even worse.The old warrior's eyes sharpened—the look of a man who had seen too much but had never learned when to stop looking. "Who hath been filling thy head with questions?""The questions are mine own," Sabio lied smoothly—deception had become such an easy skill to master, as if his soul had been waiting for this corruption all along. "The books speak of King Ushien as if he simply appeared upon the throne. Yet men do not ascend from governor to king through prayer alone."For long moments, only the fire spoke, crackling its ancient language of consumption and ash—the only honest conversation in this palace of lies.
Finally, Lycurgus sighed—the sound of a man tired of carrying heavy truths, though in this place, the alternative to carrying them was being crushed beneath them."Thou art persistent as rust, boy. Very well—but know that some stories are curses disguised as knowledge." He paused, as if giving Sabio one last chance to choose ignorance—the final mercy he had left to offer.He rose, moving to the window where night pressed against the glass like an eager listener—darkness was always patient, always waiting for its turn. "King Ushien was indeed but a governor—competent, loyal, unremarkable. His daughter..." Lycurgus paused, as if the very words carried weight that could crush souls. "Princess Victoria was beauty incarnate, but more dangerous still—she possessed a heart that knew not the boundaries of station."The fire hissed, sending shadows dancing across the walls like memories refusing to stay buried, though burial was what they deserved."She fell in love with Prince Valdris, heir to the Yrotciv throne. And he with her—such love as poets write of and wise men fear. It burned so bright that even blind men could see its flame." Lycurgus's voice grew distant, haunted by the memory of something beautiful that had to be destroyed.
"I called it a wonderful abomination—love that beautiful should not exist between a governor's daughter and a future king."Love, as Sabio was learning, was just another currency to be spent—and this tale of doomed hearts proved that even the purest currency could buy nothing but suffering."King Ushien forbade the match, of course. Royal blood was not meant to mingle with common streams, no matter how pure. But the Night Avnic had grown... displeased with the old king's rule." The name fell between them like a stone into still water, sending ripples of unspoken dread through the room—and Sabio understood that some stones, once thrown, could never be retrieved."They came to Ushien with an offer wrapped in silk and lined with steel—let his daughter marry the prince, accept the crown's weight upon his shoulders, but grant her authority to rule should the prince die before an heir came of age. Love made them all mad, Sabio.
The kingdom itself seemed drunk on their passion." Lycurgus's voice carried the bitter knowledge of a man who had watched beautiful things be used to justify ugly deeds.Sabio felt his stomach turn—he was beginning to see the shape of this tale, and it was uglier than any truth should be, though truth had never cared about human sensibilities."The wedding was magnificent," Lycurgus continued, his voice now cold as winter stone. "I have never seen such joy as lit their faces when they spoke their vows. Such beautiful, damning joy." The fire popped, sending sparks up the chimney like souls fleeing earthly concerns—though escape was just another illusion in this place where even death was just another form of service."The Night Avnic struck during the feast that followed. Every member of the royal family—slaughtered. Prince Valdris died with his bride's name on his lips, she holding his hand as life fled his eyes. The massacre was... thorough." Truth delivered without mercy—fitting for this place where kindness was weakness and mercy was just cruelty delayed."King Ushien ascended a throne built from the bones of his daughter's happiness. And the Night Avnic, having achieved their goal, commanded their own destruction—all members to be executed publicly, that they might fade into shadow and myth while their true leaders melted away like morning mist." Lycurgus turned from the window, his face carved from granite and regret—though regret was just another luxury the powerful could afford while others paid the price."
But there was one final price for this crown of blood. To ensure their secret remained buried, they demanded he exile his daughter far from the kingdom, or watch her join her husband in death." Sabio's throat felt dry as desert sand—even water seemed to taste of betrayal in this place."And he chose exile.""Love makes cowards of us all, eventually." Lycurgus's smile held no warmth, only the bitter knowledge of compromised souls and the understanding that compromise was just another word for surrender. "She has been gone, but two days past—Princess Victoria returned to her father's kingdom. She walks these very halls now."
The words hung in the air like incense at a funeral—and Sabio realized that's exactly what this was, a funeral for whatever innocence remained in this cursed place."Her presence here is like a flame in a powder house. It is not a matter of if the Night Avnic will react, but when—and how terrible their response shall be." Lycurgus moved back to his chair, suddenly looking every year of his age plus all the years his choices had cost him."Her return signals the Night Avnic's awakening, boy. They move in shadows now, but they are stirring—testing their strength, gathering their pieces." A princess wronged, a king guilty, and a secret order that has tasted power and found it sweet—the perfect recipe for the kind of disaster that left kingdoms in ruins and histories written in blood.The fire died to embers as Sabio absorbed the weight of this knowledge—though knowledge was just another burden here, and wisdom was just the ability to carry more pain without breaking.
Outside, a night bird called—mournful, distant, like grief given voice, though grief was the only honest emotion left in this palace of performed feelings."Why tell me this, my lord?"Lycurgus studied him with eyes that had seen too much and understood even more—the gaze of a man who knew that sharing knowledge was just another way of sharing guilt. "Because, my boy, I fear we are all players in their game now—and the curtain is about to rise on the finale.