The palace of Eldoria, once a symbol of strength and unity, now lay in ruins, its shattered halls echoing with the silence of defeat. Akin stood in the remains of the grand hall, the weight of the kingdom's fall pressing down on his shoulders. The rebels had already claimed victory here, but the worst of it—the knowledge that Seraphina had been taken—cut deeper than any sword.
He hadn't allowed himself to fully process what the guard had said. His sister, Seraphina, was now in the hands of the enemy. The thought alone filled him with rage. But he couldn't act on that rage, not yet. He needed a plan, he needed to be careful, and most of all, he needed to uncover the truth.
The capital had fallen, and it seemed almost overnight. How had the rebels managed to infiltrate so deeply, so swiftly, and without warning? These weren't just opportunistic insurgents—they had inside help. And the answer to who had betrayed them was lurking somewhere within these ruins.
Akin's breath came in sharp, controlled bursts as he tried to steady himself. Garrick stood beside him, his presence a calming force amid the chaos.
"We need to find Captain Jarek," Akin said, his voice low but firm. "He stayed behind to oversee the defense of the capital. He'll know what happened."
Garrick nodded, but there was a shadow of doubt in his eyes. "If he's still alive, he'll be in the inner barracks or rallying any remaining soldiers."
Akin's jaw tightened. "Let's hope so."
They made their way through the palace grounds, stepping over the rubble and debris, the once-immaculate halls now reduced to ash and ruin. The silence was unnerving. This wasn't just a city overrun by rebels—there was something darker, something deliberate. Akin could feel it in his bones, an invisible hand guiding the chaos, pulling strings from the shadows.
As they approached the barracks, the faint sound of voices drifted toward them. Akin signaled for silence, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. Garrick moved ahead cautiously, and together they crept toward the source of the voices.
The barracks were mostly intact, but there were clear signs of a struggle—doors hanging off their hinges, weapons scattered on the ground, and the unmistakable stench of blood. Inside, a group of soldiers—perhaps ten or so—stood gathered around a figure dressed in the familiar armor of a Valion captain.
Captain Jarek.
He was giving orders, his voice calm but sharp, as if the fall of the capital was merely a temporary setback. His steel-gray eyes were hard, his expression unreadable. Akin felt a wave of relief wash over him, but something about Jarek's demeanor set off a quiet alarm in the back of his mind. Why did he seem so… composed?
"Captain Jarek," Akin called, stepping forward from the shadows. The soldiers immediately turned toward him, some of them visibly startled by his sudden appearance. Jarek's gaze flicked to Akin, his face neutral, but his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"My lord," Jarek said, inclining his head in respect, though his voice lacked the usual warmth. "I hadn't expected to see you back so soon."
Akin stepped closer, his heart still pounding from the adrenaline of the recent revelation about Seraphina. "What happened here, Jarek? The capital… it's fallen, and Seraphina—she's been taken."
Jarek's expression didn't shift, though a flicker of something—relief?—crossed his eyes. "The rebels caught us off guard, my lord. They moved faster than we anticipated, breaching the outer defenses in the dead of night. I did everything I could to rally the men, but their numbers were overwhelming."
Akin's eyes narrowed, the cold suspicion gnawing at him. Jarek was telling him what he expected to hear, but there was something in the captain's tone that felt rehearsed, calculated.
"And my father?" Akin pressed. "Where was he during the attack?"
Jarek hesitated, just for a moment, but long enough for Akin to notice. "Lord Thorian was last seen fighting alongside the palace guards. I believe he was trying to protect Seraphina before she was taken."
Akin's blood ran cold, but he forced himself to focus. Something wasn't adding up. How had the rebels managed to breach the capital's defenses without any warning? How had they known exactly where to strike?
He locked eyes with Jarek. "How did the rebels manage to infiltrate the capital so quickly? Where were our scouts? Our sentries?"
Jarek's expression remained impassive. "The rebels had help, my lord. Someone on the inside. We were betrayed."
Akin's stomach twisted. He knew it. But who? Who among them would have betrayed the Valion family and opened the gates to the enemy?
"I want names," Akin said, his voice icy. "I want to know who betrayed us."
Jarek's gaze hardened. "I'll find them, my lord. I've already begun interrogating the surviving soldiers. I'll get you the answers you seek."
There was something off in Jarek's tone, a subtle deflection that made Akin's suspicions flare. He had known Jarek for years, trusted him, but now… now he wasn't sure. Could Jarek be the one?
Akin glanced at Garrick, who had remained silent but vigilant beside him. Garrick's face was a mask of calm, but Akin could see the same doubt reflected in his eyes. They needed to be careful. One wrong move, and everything could unravel.
"We need to rally what's left of the forces," Akin said, stepping back. "The capital is lost, but we need to regroup. We can't let the rebels take the rest of the kingdom."
Jarek nodded, though his eyes lingered on Akin for just a moment too long. "I'll see to it, my lord."
Akin turned away, motioning for Garrick to follow. As they moved toward the exit, a dark thought crept into Akin's mind. Jarek had known too much, had been too composed, too ready with his answers. And yet, without proof, there was nothing Akin could do. Not yet.
Once outside, Akin stopped and looked toward the palace ruins, his chest tightening with grief and frustration. Seraphina was still out there, somewhere, and he would stop at nothing to bring her back.
"What do you think?" Garrick asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Akin's jaw clenched. "Something isn't right. Jarek… he's hiding something."
Garrick's expression darkened. "You think he's the one? The traitor?"
"I don't know," Akin said, his voice low. "But until I'm sure, we need to play this carefully. If he's working with the rebels, then he's dangerous. More dangerous than we realized."
Garrick nodded, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "What's the plan?"
Akin stared out at the city, the fires still smoldering in the distance. "We'll gather what remains of our forces and get out of here. But first, I need to find my father. If he's still alive… he needs to know what's happened."
"And Seraphina?" Garrick asked, his voice soft.
Akin's heart tightened. "We'll find her. But first, we need to survive."
As they prepared to move deeper into the palace ruins, a sudden sound—distant but distinct—echoed through the empty streets. A horn blast. Three sharp notes that pierced the silence like a knife. A warning signal.
Garrick's eyes widened. "The rebels. They're coming back."
Akin's blood ran cold. They didn't have time. Whatever was coming, it was coming fast.
"We need to get out of here," Akin said, his voice urgent. "Now."
As they raced through the streets, the air thick with the coming storm, Akin's mind raced. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together, but there was still so much he didn't know. Who was the true mastermind behind the rebellion? How deep did the treachery run? And most importantly—who could he trust?
But one thing was certain: Captain Jarek was not what he seemed.