Valdrick Castle
Late afternoon light spilled through the window onto the desk, flickering as a breeze stirred the curtains.
Lord Ozym set his hands lightly on the table, rings catching the light on three of his fingers. He clenched his fist slowly, deliberately, as Sera finished telling him everything she had found.
"The Faceless?" Caesar stood near the wall, arms folded, taking in every word she'd said.
"I see." Lord Ozym broke the silence at last, his voice quiet as he squeezed the letter she had shown him. He looked up. "Sera, is it?"
"Yes, sir." She stood still, her eyes fixed on him.
"Have your men search extensively for the boy — and for this person alongside him. He is, as of now, a man of special interest to me."
"Yes, sir." She turned toward Caesar, who gave her a dismissive glance in return. She held it a moment longer than necessary, then inclined her head toward the door. "Excuse me."
She left the room, the door falling shut behind her.
"Three hundred years gone," Lord Ozym murmured, "and still sign of them." Caesar turned to look at him.
"I've heard of the Faceless — and of the war with the mages. I'd heard they were extinct."
"If I may, Lord Ozym." Caesar drew out a chair and took a seat. "What does the boy you're so fixated on have to do with any of this?"
"A few ideas come to mind." Ozym turned to face him fully. A slow smile crossed his lips. "I can't wait to see for myself."
Somewhere in the Capital
Ser Rick's Hideout
"Morning," Ser Rick said, pushing the door open.
Dot had slept on the floor, Reek curled somewhere nearby. The knock had roused him only moments before, and he was still blinking the sleep from his eyes when Ser Rick stepped inside.
"Morning," Dot said, stretching.
"Haven't slept in days, have you?" Ser Rick asked, coming closer, his robes sweeping across the floor.
"Yeah," Dot admitted, straightening up.
"I'm guessing he hasn't either." Ser Rick glanced toward Reek, who shifted restlessly beside Dot, still searching for a comfortable spot to settle.
"It's time, Dot."
"Yeah." Dot rose eagerly to his feet. "I'm ready for you to train me — to get stronger."
"I won't be the one training you," Ser Rick said. "But a familiar face will."
Dot struggled into the garment a maid had left for him earlier, stumbling as he pulled it on. "Who, then?"
"First — you have a guest." Ser Rick glanced toward the door. "Brought her from the capital myself."
The door opened, and Astrid stepped through.
"Dot!" She crossed the room and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I'm fine," he said, once they finally let go of each other. He looked past her toward the doorway. "Where's Cottage?"
"I haven't seen him since we were last together," she said.
"What?" Dot's voice sharpened.
"Don't worry about that right now." She met his eyes. "I'm sure he's somewhere in the capital."
The door opened again, and Jeffery stepped in.
"Long time no see, Dot."
Minutes passed. They settled together on the floor, legs crossed, Astrid kneeling beside them as they talked. Ser Rick waited quietly in the doorframe.
"So you work for him?" Dot asked, glancing at Jeffery.
"Yeah. Had to get you to him one way or another," Jeffery answered.
"What about your wish, then?"
"You'll still be obligated to get it for him," Ser Rick cut in, stepping closer. "Shall we, then, Dot?"
Dot stood. Reek scrambled up after him, crawling fast across the ground, and Astrid flinched at the sight of him.
"Reek, let's go," Dot said. Astrid waved them off as they went.
The door shut behind them. Jeffery turned to Astrid, a smirk tugging at his mouth. "What, then?"
She hissed and rose to her feet. "Let me through."
The door opened, and a maid followed her out.
Somewhere in the Capital
Alarm spread through the streets as Gold Cloaks marched into shelters and the residences of nobles, searching for Dot and Ser Rick, dragging people from their homes.
"Wait!" one man yelled as he was hauled outside and thrown to the ground, water splashing across his face.
"Where is he?" a Gold Cloak demanded. Four of them had entered this particular noble house, and inside the great hall they found a symbol carved into the stone — the same coiled serpent Sera had found in the letter.
"Speak," one of the knights ordered, sword drawn, as a woman before him trembled.
"Hold." Sera stepped into the hall, Lora and two more Gold Cloaks close behind her.
"What is this doing here?" Sera asked, studying the great symbol carved into the wall.
"Our noble house has carried this symbol for years," the woman said, her voice shaking. "We have done nothing wrong, my lady."
"Nobles of what house?" Sera asked.
"We belong to Valdrick now. We have no house."
"Then what is this?" Sera stepped closer and pressed her hand to the carving.
"Like I said, my lady — it's been here for decades."
"I see." Sera snapped her fingers, and the wall shattered outward under the pull of her gravity ability. The woman stared, frozen in shock.
"Tell the man with a thousand names he's expected in the palace," Sera said, turning away. "Lord Ozym calls for him." The Gold Cloaks fell in behind her as she left.
Lora lingered a moment to help the woman to her feet before following after them.
Ser Rick's Hideout
Dot and Ser Rick walked together down a narrow passage until Ser Rick pushed open a door at its end.
Bright light spilled into the corridor from a garden beyond, where a man sat near a well, watching the water with quiet ease as he dropped stones into it one by one.
"Here he is," Ser Rick said, guiding Dot forward.
Dot approached the man, who held up a finger without looking back.
"Boy — help me with that." He pointed to a stone near the well's edge. Dot lifted it and carried it over.
"Drop it, then," the man said. Dot let it fall, and the water splashed upward with a satisfying crash.
"Whoa!" The man laughed.
"I remember you," Dot said, studying his face. "You were at the fighting pits — chained with me."
"Yeah. I remember you too." The man extended a hand. "I'm Aren."
"I'm Dot." He shook it.
Aren stepped back from the well and glanced toward Ser Rick. "What is this, then?"
"Part of the deal," Ser Rick said. "You're to train him."
"I'm no suitor or teacher of any sort," Aren said, shaking his head. "Just a drunk."
"No harm in that kid," Ser Rick pressed, turning to Dot as if to make his case again.
"I can't train you," Aren said, already turning to leave, patting down his coat in search of the flask he kept there.
"Here." Dot held it out to him.
Aren turned back and smiled. "You're good, kid." He took the flask, still laughing. "Still won't train you, though."
Ser Rick only smiled and turned to go. One of his men leaned in and whispered something in his ear, and his expression shifted.
"I see," he said.
Halfway down the hall, his form rippled and reshaped itself — a Gold Cloak knight now standing in his place — and he slipped out of the hideout without another word.
— To Be Continued —