As Alaric crossed the grand hallways, lit only by dim sconces on the walls, a familiar voice sounded in his mind.
"What are you doing? I ask again," Lucius's voice slithered into Alaric's thoughts, sharp yet playful as always.
Alaric's lips curled slightly in annoyance, his steps continuing without hesitation. 'So he decides to show up now,' he thought, though a part of him was unsurprised.
"Guess who finally decided to make an appearance. Where've you been?" Alaric responded, his voice flat with disinterest.
Lucius's voice came back with a mocking lilt, "Did you miss me?" he asked, his tone half-singing as if amused by the idea that Alaric could have felt his absence.
Alaric shook his head, though no one was around to witness it. "I gave you orders," he reminded, his tone darkening. "I told you to watch Genevieve."
There was a pause, and Lucius's voice returned with its usual nonchalance, "I have a life, you know. I don't exist solely for your whims, Alaric."
Alaric's brow furrowed as he made a turn down a narrower hallway. "Where exactly do you have this 'life'?" he asked sarcastically, knowing well that Lucius often relished in playing games of secrecy.
Lucius scoffed, a sound filled with equal parts amusement and defiance. "Now that's for me to know and for you to wonder."
A frustrated sigh escaped Alaric's lips. He didn't have the patience for Lucius's cryptic banter tonight. "I have questions, but not the energy to ask them." The irritation in his voice was clear.
Lucius chuckled softly. "Good, because I've got something more important than our little back and forth."
Alaric's footsteps slowed, his instincts sharpening. "Do tell," he prompted, his senses on alert.
Lucius's voice became serious, the playful edge gone. "There's intel." The weight of those words made Alaric halt in his tracks.
"On the path?" Alaric asked, his eyes narrowing, ensuring they were talking about the same thing.
"Yes," Lucius confirmed. "A trail has been discovered."
Alaric remained silent for a few moments, his mind working through the implications. He had long suspected that the trail they'd been chasing for months would resurface, but this was sooner than anticipated.
"So, we're going?" Lucius asked, as the silence stretched on.
"Yes." Alaric's voice was steady. "But first, I need to leave my wife a message."
Alaric's relationship with Lucius was complicated at best, and deeply strained at worst. Lucius had been a part of Alaric's life for as long as he could remember, though 'part of his life' was perhaps the wrong term. Lucius wasn't a person, not in the traditional sense.
He had no physical form, no clear origin, and even Alaric wasn't entirely sure what he was. A voice in his head, perhaps an entity of some kind, who had embedded itself into Alaric's consciousness in his youth.
Lucius had always been there—since Alaric was a child, long before he became the prince others feared and whispered about. At first, he thought Lucius was a figment of his imagination, an imaginary friend conjured by a lonely boy.
But as the years went by, it became clear Lucius was something more. He had knowledge, insight, and awareness of the world around them that no mere creation of Alaric's mind could possess.
Lucius could see, hear, and know things that Alaric could not.
For years, Alaric had pressed Lucius for answers—Who are you? Where do you come from?—but Lucius had never revealed his origins.
It was a sore point between them, especially given how closely tied their fates seemed to be.
Alaric hated that someone—or something—could live in his mind, have access to his thoughts, his plans, his vulnerabilities, without reciprocating that openness.
"I'm part of you, Alaric," Lucius had once said, though it felt more like a deflection than an answer. "Isn't that enough?"
It wasn't. Alaric wanted more, needed more. And yet, despite the lack of clarity, he had come to rely on Lucius over the years.
In many ways, Lucius was his greatest ally, offering insight and guidance that few others could. But Lucius was also his greatest mystery.
One thing had always been clear: Lucius could not be controlled. He came and went as he pleased, his appearances often irregular and unpredictable.
Alaric had tried to summon him at will, but it never worked. Lucius appeared only when he chose to, and though he often followed Alaric's commands—like watching Genevieve tonight—he was not bound by them.
Lucius's presence was both a blessing and a curse. His guidance had saved Alaric's life on more than one occasion, but his autonomy and refusal to divulge his true nature kept Alaric on edge.
Alaric turned a corner, entering the hallway that led to his royal office. The dim light cast long shadows along the stone walls, but Alaric moved swiftly, his mind now focused on the task ahead. Lucius's intel could not be ignored.
If the path they had been searching for had indeed re-emerged, then time was of the essence. He needed to act quickly, but not without ensuring that Salviana knew where he was going.
As he approached the heavy wooden door to his chamber, Alaric felt Lucius stir in his mind again. "Leaving without telling her in person?" Lucius's voice teased.
"I don't have the time, Richard would be here soon" Alaric replied curtly, pushing open the door.
The office was dimly lit, a fire flickering softly in the hearth. Alaric crossed the room to his writing desk and quickly grabbed a piece of parchment, dipping his quill into the inkpot.
"Tell me, Lucius," Alaric said as he began to write, "how long have you known about this trail?"
Lucius chuckled softly, his voice echoing faintly in the back of Alaric's mind. "Long enough. But I didn't want to get your hopes up too soon."
Alaric frowned but didn't press further. He had learned long ago that Lucius shared information only when it suited him. And even then, it was never the whole truth.
The note to Salviana was brief but clear. He explained that urgent matters required his attention and that he would return as soon as possible. He folded the parchment and placed it neatly on the desk where Richard would find it.
With one last glance around the room, Alaric turned and left, his footsteps echoing down the halls as he made his way toward the path Lucius had spoken of—toward the storm he knew was coming
His friend and guard, Richard would deliver the parchment to her.