As the sun's last rays bled into the horizon, the trio crossed the manor's stone courtyard in silence. The air had turned brisk, laced with the promise of rain. Above them, a ceiling of leaden clouds stretched across the sky, and the streets—long since emptied—stood still like breath held in anticipation.
Velrith walked ahead, cloak trailing behind him like a shadow woven from the night itself. His eyes flicked through the dim alleys, alert to every movement. A few steps behind, Lucas followed with silent resolve, while Kael lagged behind, hands tucked into his coat pockets, his posture one of reluctant patience.
"Did it have to be tonight?" Kael muttered, voice just above a whisper. "People at least look less like murderers in the morning."
Velrith didn't turn. "Night opens doors the day keeps shut," he said calmly. "If we want to move unnoticed, darkness is our ally."
Lucas glanced sideways at him. "Are you taking us straight there?"
"Yes," Velrith replied. "But I'll be going in alone."
They turned down a narrow alleyway, flanked by moss-covered stone walls. At its end stood a rundown inn, almost forgotten by time. Its sign hung crooked, letters faded beyond recognition. The door seemed ordinary—too ordinary—but Velrith's eyes sharpened the moment he saw it.
He pushed the door open.
A soft murmur greeted him from within. The tavern's dimly-lit interior held only a few scattered figures—shadowed silhouettes hunched over half-empty mugs. The air reeked of damp wood, mold, and cheap liquor.
Lucas stepped closer. "You sure about this?" he asked in a low voice. "You don't want us to come with you?"
Velrith shook his head. "Only those who know the code get in. You'll be safer out here. If anything goes wrong... I'll find a way to let you know."
Kael raised an eyebrow. There was no jest in his voice this time. "You've done this before, haven't you?"
Velrith paused, his hand on the door. "I have. But this time... I'm not alone."
Lucas offered a silent nod. Kael muttered behind him, "We'll be right here. But if something happens to you... I swear, I'll turn that place inside out."
As Velrith stepped inside, the low buzz of conversation dulled. He moved through the tavern with purpose, approaching the bar. The bartender met his gaze and hesitated.
Velrith leaned in and spoke softly, as if recalling an old incantation."One sip of sky-tea for those who walk in shadow."
The bartender gave a subtle nod, reached beneath the counter, and produced a small, rusted key. Without a word, he pulled aside the faded curtain beside the bar.
Velrith passed through.
Beyond the veil was a corridor choked in stillness. The air was damp, the scent thick with age and secrecy. Faint torchlight flickered along the stone walls, casting long shadows that danced like ghosts. Figures leaned against the walls—watchers cloaked in quiet menace.
Velrith moved forward, breath steady but heart taut.
A figure stirred from the darkness.
"I was expecting you," said a sly voice. Slowly, a man stepped into the light—tall, thin, with sharp features and a grin that never reached his eyes.
Noah. The so-called Lord of Shadows.
He wore a simple black robe, elegant in its understatement. The shadows clung to him like old friends.
"Expecting me, were you?" Velrith replied coolly.
"Of course. Now tell me—what brings you scurrying here like a storm's whisper? War? Espionage? I do love both."
"I need information," Velrith said. "Thaloria's army. Trade routes. Varneth's alliances. Everything."
Noah's smile faltered. "I can see why you'd be curious about the Duke. But why Thaloria? Why not Nerath, your own kingdom?"
Velrith smirked. "What, think I'm planning to bring the Empire down? Your job is to sell secrets, not question motives."
Noah pouted, mock-wounded. "Just curious. You're cruel, Velrith. Elira would've at least pretended to be nice."
Velrith's expression hardened. "Then satisfy my curiosity. Who are you, really?"
Noah rolled his eyes. "Not the same thing, Velrith."
Velrith exhaled through his nose. "I didn't come here for riddles. I came for answers."
Noah chuckled, the sound bouncing off the stone. "Sharp-tongued as ever. But fine. You want details? Let's play."
He strode to a nearby table and spread out a dusty scroll. "Thaloria's army is swelling. Tenfold increase in the past year. At this rate, they'll have enough for a new kingdom."
Velrith stepped closer. His eyes scanned the parchment. "So Thaloria is strengthening. What about inside the court?"
"Cracks," Noah replied. "Some of the King's advisors oppose the pact with Varneth. There's talk of desertion. And those deserters? They're forming a cult. Trying to rally support and maybe... form a new alliance."
Velrith blinked. "A cult? That's new. Who's leading it?"
Noah grinned. "Do you really think there's anything I don't know?"
"Name," Velrith demanded.
"Rylen," Noah said with a nod. "Rylen Virell. The second prince of Thaloria."
Velrith's eyes narrowed. "And the name of the cult?"
"No name yet. Still forming. But trust me—it's real."
Velrith muttered, "You see too much of the future."
Noah snorted, then took a seat. "I don't lie, Velrith. Elira trusted me."
"I'm not Elira," Velrith said, turning his head away. "But fine. I'll believe you—this time."
Noah's grin returned. "You should believe me, Velrith dearest."
Velrith exhaled slowly. "I'll need maps. Of Thaloria. And information on Varneth."
Noah slid another scroll across the table. "There. You can slip in through the southern harbors. This map has what you need."
Velrith took the scroll, folded it with care, and slipped it into his cloak. "Now... Varneth."
Noah stood. "They've allied with Thaloria. Behind it all? Prince Lucien Virell. The Duke plans to overthrow five kingdoms—install himself as king of Nerath in return. But Lucien... he has his own vision. One I don't fully trust."
Velrith tilted his head. "How soon?"
"Give it a year, maybe less," Noah said. "But if they target just Nerath? One month. That's all they'd need."
Velrith turned to leave. "That's enough for now. Thank you... Shadow Walker."
Noah chuckled. "I don't walk in shadows. I am the shadow. Until next time, Velrith. I have a feeling we'll meet often."
Velrith reached the door. Hand on the handle, he paused—then spoke without turning.
"Unfortunately... I think you're right."
And with that, he slipped back into the night.