Kaladin Shadowheart's POV.
I let out a small sigh as I leaned back into my chair. I had been sitting in the room for so long that I lost track of time, watching Cerila and Sylvia sleep peacefully despite the events that transpired during the day.
At first, everything seemed to be out of the ordinary. I carefully watched their fight, and I had prepared myself to step in, headless to any rules or complaints if things went too far. In the beginning, that never came to pass, as I could tell that both of them were fighting with the utmost sincerity, and it appeared as if neither of them intended to kill the other.
But that was only in the beginning.
It was when Cerila finally managed to surprise Sylvia by tossing her into the air with magic. I thought that maybe Sylvia would be done for, forced to surrender so as not to go too far, but then something happened. Through my Dragon eye and Soul Sight, a brilliant light blinded me to the point of physical pain.
I had no choice but to avert my eyes and cut off the supply of mana to my eye. When my vision returned to normal, Sylvia had been placed on the back foot entirely and had even lost her sword and the arm that held it. It was also when I noticed something changed in Cerila.
I initially chalked it up to Cerila, finally using the power of her sword, Hubris. But the more I watched, the more concerned and confused I became. Cerila's entire fighting style had changed; the way she moved, acted, and carried herself had all changed. Even her sword swings and her magic were different. I was positive that Hubris had some type of power within it, even if I couldn't see it or sense it.
But the power to drastically alter the way someone moves their body and stands? I find that incredibly difficult to believe, considering even with the tremendous amount of power Ren's sword can muster, she did not change as drastically as Cerila did.
I was already on the edge of my seat when Sylvia tried to defend herself. She used her Bloody Sorcery to match Cerila's might and was successful for a time. At the time, I wondered why she was heading back for her sword of all things, when I realized it made the most sense if you understood that Sylvia was trying to hide her powers.
If she had suddenly started controlling globs of blood and turning them into flying swords like magic, things would have gotten complicated very quickly. At the end of the day, I would respect Sylvia's decision to show or hide her powers. After all, there was a very distinct difference between my hiding some of my abilities and hers. It just made sense for her not to show her true powers just yet.
It was also then that I felt a sense of unease. I looked directly into Cerila's eyes and didn't see a hint of emotion in them. She watched Sylvia's retreating back with complete and utter apathy as if Sylvia had made such a mistake of the highest caliber it wasn't even worth considering her an opponent anymore.
I knew Cerila. I knew for a fact she would never view Sylvia as an insignificant opponent. And as long as I knew Cerila…she had never looked at anyone like that before.
I vividly remember the looming sense of unease was too much to bear, and I stood up from my seat, sending mana through my body and into my Dragon eye. The pain that may or may not come didn't matter in that moment. I wanted an answer, and what I got made me hesitate.
Cerila's soul had changed. It shouldn't have been possible, but I saw it with my own eyes.
The only way to describe it was it looked like a storm. Two souls clashing against one another, vying for power. One small and insignificant yet fighting fiercely. The other one…the other one was impossibly large as if it was a hideous amalgamation of souls combined together to create a monster beyond belief.
It was there that I realized I made a mistake. Even Avasta, the Dragon Empress herself, had warned me not to stare too deeply into a soul. That it was not something a person was meant to witness. I had done it only a handful of times, always stopping myself before things became too serious.
But looking into the amalgamation…it was too much. I looked not only too deep, but I looked too deep into the soul of an abnormality I couldn't even begin to fathom. Naturally, I paid the price. The only silver lining was I didn't go mad as I fainted on the spot. My body saved me from myself.
When I awoke, my family was with me, but I quickly shook them off and looked around. There was a large sphere of blood surrounding the arena platform, and the entire stadium was locked in place, staring down in muttered confusion. Everyone around me asked me what was going on, but truth be told, I didn't have a concert answer.
It was clearly Sylvia's Blood Sorcery, but at a scale I had only seen her muster once. And that took Sylvia a few minutes to do. There should have been no way for her to use a ritual with Cerila constantly attacking her.
My worries only compounded when I heard that Cerila nearly beheaded Sylvia, only stopping mere inches away from her—that and the feeling of dread coming from the bloody sphere. Everyone around me seemed none the wiser to the feeling. Yet, when I looked into the sphere, it felt like I was looking past it, and my gut wrenched.
It was a familiar sensation—the feeling of death, not in the way that I was going to breathe my last breath but of death itself. It was the same as the time when I was actually dead, my consciousness drifting through what I have dubbed the void. The feeling that something beyond comprehension was watching me, and it was prepared to end it all.
So, I did what any average person would do.
I tried to break down the blood barrier.
But nothing went through it. Nothing I did even so much as dented it or warped it in the slightest. Even the piece of Wyrm horn on my spear couldn't scratch the surface. Regardless, I kept trying to break in, but to no avail.
After some time, the barrier fell helplessly to the ground on its own. At the center of the platform, amongst a sea of red ice, were Sylvia and Cerila. Sylvia, still standing, leaning on her sword, stood over an unconscious Cerila. The announcer said it was Sylvia's win, and the crowd gave an awkward cheer and clap, but I was already upon.
Both of them appeared uninjured externally despite their clothes being in shambles. And even though Sylvia was standing, she was just as unconscious as Cerila was.
Also, to add more issues, Cerila and Hubris…the two of them are inseparable for some reason, literally. Not even King Maxwell could remove Cerila's hands from the hilt of Hubris. It went against common sense in every way. And with my Dragon eye, I could see that there was more going on.
Sylvia's soul was as usual, and nothing had changed. But Cerila's was a torrent of power. It wasn't even in the realm of what I first saw during the match, and it seemed to only be Cerila's soul now, but for some reason, it was acting like a … hyperactive child to explain it the best. It never settled and constantly moved about inside of her. Thankfully, it didn't appear as if it was harming her, as she was sleeping peacefully.
So, what exactly happened in that bubble? What actually transpired…only those two will know…and they can only tell me when they wake up. But it seems I'll have to be patient as tonight will be a busy night…
—
Sylros's POV.
"Goodnight, My Lady," I said with a short bow.
I turned to walk out of her room when Adria stopped me. "Sylros?"
"Yes? Is something the matter?" I questioned.
Adria looked at me with a worried expression. Before she even spoke, I already knew she would turn that question around on me.
"I believe I should be asking that to you, Sylros. Is something bothering you? You don't seem like yourself tonight," Adria pointed out.
I held my sigh in but couldn't help but smile slightly at the warmth in her voice. How was it that people of such a kind nature could see what was wrong with others with just intuition?
There was no way anything showed on my face. I was trained with decades of experience at this point…even so, Adria and her mother are indeed alike—such a kind heart and soul…
I chuckled. "I must be getting old. Perhaps these late nights are finally affecting me."
Adria looked unconvinced as she ruffled her nose at me. "You look the exact same as you always have, Sylros. And I know you better than that. You always make sure to get adequate sleep," Adria said with confidence.
"Yes…your father reminds me much the same every time he sees me," I said with a smile. "And should I remind you that you require more sleep than me? Maybe one these days, I won't have to send the maids to rouse you."
Adria blushed furiously and pointed the finger at me. "I—I'm on vacation now! I think I'm allowed to sleep in some!"
"I wasn't aware that every day was a vacation, My Lady. I'll be acutely aware of that fact in the future," I teased.
"Sylros!" Adria shouted as she threw a pillow at me from across the room.
I deftly snatched the pillow out of the air and bowed at her once more. "Rest well."
"Goodnight…" Adria pouted.
I chuckled as I closed the door behind me. I had to remind myself that even though Adria had grown taller than me, she was still a young girl at heart. I won't lie; it did feel good to know that she cared for my well-being, but I could hardly tell her what was troubling me.
Tonight would be a troublesome night for Sandervile in many ways…and the decision to intervene on my part was a hazy and thorny path filled with nothing but uncertainties and anxiety.
I don't blame the boy. I never did and never will. The desire for freedom is strong within all living things. But it doesn't change the fact that Kaladin's escape altered the internal hierarchy within Sandervile's inner circle.
Even with Adria attempting to garner support, very little has changed. She may be a powerful and successful mage, and I'm confident that her accomplishments at the tournament will curry favor with some…but it will be insignificant in the end.
Adria simply had no meaningful support. She was born too late to be first in line, her mother perished at the hands of scheming, vile women, and Adria was born a woman in a man's society. The cards were stacked against her even if she didn't deserve it.
Kaladin's escape weakened Mayor Sandervile's position and strengthened his son's grasp of power tremendously. After all, Kaladin was given special privileges that were allowed by the mayor himself. Kaladin lived amongst a person of the highest standing, serving as a personal manservant when he was nothing but a slave. To complicate matters further, he was of the lowest status, a half-blooded Elf of dubious origins.
And a slave that managed to kill veterans of Sandervile escaped into the forest and avoided capture the entire time.
Gal used the scenario to weaken his father's claims, siding with House Stav, who was on the brink of being caught in illegal deeds. House Relud, home to the Vice-Mayor, also left My Lord's side in a fit of rage. With Kaladin avoiding capture, matters were further complicated. Of course, that wasn't enough for the mayor to abdicate his position to his son.
A single mistake on an otherwise perfect record wouldn't dissuade the most ardent and loyal supporters. Well…that was until recently.
With Kaladin being announced as the Dragonslayer, a mage capable of slaying a legend, things began to spiral out of control further. Gal and his supporters used the announcement to tarnish his father's reputation further. It wasn't that Kaladin had been a powerful mage all along who had done a good deed.
No…he was an escaped slave who acquired power under the nose of Sandervile, killed our people, defected to another kingdom, and began propagating an anti-City State agenda.
With the founding of this Dragonheart Foundation and the Kingdom of Luminar applying pressure in trade and moving troops on the border…that shrewd queen must be behind all of this…couple that with the mayor's failing health and the death of Dillian Stav on public display…I'm afraid things are going to implode.
I stood on the top floor and looked out into the darkness of night. Torches of guards moved about like little dots around the garden. It was peaceful, but that was all an illusion.
As the head butler, I was privy to all information. It mattered not if they were a part of Gal's faction or the mayors. As long as My Lord was the mayor of Sandervile, I would be in the loop. And the nobles of Gal's faction had grown bold. They planned to assassinate Kaladin on his nightly run.
Fools…all of them…that boy shouldn't be taken lightly, but they are confident. The hiring of The Cursed Sands is proof of that…
So…my predicament…should I risk it all to tell Kaladin? To warn him?
My heart tells me to. But my duty to Sandervile stiffens my feet.
I let out a deep sigh and looked up at the cloudy sky. What would Andy say? He once told me to make his daughter's dream come true regardless of the situation or who was in the way, even if it meant making enemies.
He was fully prepared to free Kaladin after graduation from the academy. Promote him to be a true citizen of Sandervile and allow him to become my second in command so one day, when Gal eventually took the position of mayor…Adria and Kaladin could go off to another City State…or anywhere, for that matter, as free people.
That's right…Adria…she would never allow this plan to unfold. She would rush out into the night herself if she were aware. But that was unacceptable. I cared for Kaladin. I really did. But I wouldn't allow Adria to die a meaningless death for him.
I clenched my fists and muttered, "But you never did resend that order, old friend. Will you be displeased with my choice if I live to tell the tale, I wonder? I planned on living by your side til the day I died…but it appears I might leave this before you."
It's only fitting that I make one of your dreams come true…even if it's a futile attempt in the end…how ridiculous of me.
I must be getting sentimental in my twilight years.
—
I donned frayed clothing and a musty and old cloak I used for these occasions and made my way out into the unfamiliar and dark city. The scent of the sea was strong wherever one went here. Personally, I disliked the salty and fishy smell. I preferred the scent of a good garden and a fresh field.
I went into the less-than-savory parts of town and received stares from sketchy men in cloaks hiding in the darkness. Thankfully, that wasn't my first time doing something like that. I had snuck into town many times to observe people, and I was a man of the streets myself.
What was the saying…you can take the man off the streets, but you can't take the streets out of a man? Something like that…
I walked with confidence and purpose. Never showing any weakness. But in truth, I was nervous beyond belief. I had no combat skills. I wasn't a mage of any kind, and I could barely enhance my body once a day for a scant few minutes. It was a bit of a sore point, considering I was a Half-Elf.
Even so, I was armed. If someone dared to attack me, I would not go out with a whimper. They would regret attacking me til my final moments.
I shook those darker thoughts off until I reached the suspected path that Kaladin took every night. I wasn't certain where he was, but I knew if I worked backward from there, I would run into him eventually. So I did just that.
I walked the dark and gloomy streets for a long time. A part of me wondered if I had missed him. Or that I would run into the assassins before I ran into Kaladin and die a meaningless death. Even so, I continued forward until I found him walking in the darkness.
He wore a cloak over his head and simple clothes, but hiding his large frame and presence with an outfit wasn't possible. I recognized him immediately and walked toward him hesitantly.
I tried to call out to him, but the words were stuck in my throat. It wasn't a lack of conviction but the menacing bloodlust that emanated from him. My chest felt heavy, and my knees were weak.
What tremendous power and aura…was he always like this? Perhaps he was always like this… Yet, I remember him when he was a boy, a small and frail boy…how the times have changed.
If Kaladin were to strike me down, I wouldn't be able to lift a finger against him. I don't believe I'd be able to so much as breathe in his general direction. Even so, he continued to walk toward me casually.
He stood just short of me and looked up at the sky and then back to me. "It's quite a surprise to see you here, Sylros. What brings you out this late?" Kaladin said with a tone void of emotion.
"I—I've come to warn you," I said through gritted teeth and pained gasps.
"Warn me of what, exactly?"
"People…the—they are coming to kill you—I—gasp."
I took in a breath of fresh air as the intense aura that gripped my heart vanished. Kaladin removed his hood and smiled at me.
"I see. Does anyone know you are here?" he questioned.
"No…I came alone and didn't tell a soul," I said as I wiped the sweat from my forehead.
"Kind to a fault, huh? Why me? Isn't this against the wish of your master?" he asked.
"Does it matter? I'm here, and you must leave right away! I'm warning you so you can avoid any confrontation! Even you might struggle against these assassins if you are outnumbered, Kaladin!" I said frantically.
Kaladin just smiled. "I sense the sincerity in your voice, Sylros. Do you not blame me for what I did? I never even got a chance to say goodbye to you. I regret that immensely, you know? You always treated me with a stern kindness that I can respect. I viewed you not as a keeper but as a friend. Like Muriel," he said fondly.
He…regrets not saying goodbye to me? And to compare me to Muriel…that is too generous…
"E—even so! You must go! Please do not trouble yourself with me any longer. I'll be leav—"
"You should probably stay close, Sylros. They are already here," Kaladin said cooly.
I looked up at the rafters of the buildings, listed with my ears, but heard nothing of the sort. How could he be so certain?
"How much of a fool do they think I am? Honestly…what a bunch of idiots," Kaladin said with a chuckle.
"It was their mistake thinking I was alone this entire time. And it was an even graver mistake thinking they could kill me and get away with it. They are all going to die tonight."