The cold wind whipped through the streets of Eldrath as Aran strode back toward the hidden safehouse. The weight of Nera's capture had barely settled when his mind shifted to the larger game at hand. The threads of conspiracy, power, and hidden agendas woven into the very fabric of the city were now starting to unravel, and Aran knew it was only a matter of time before the other players made their moves.
Alara walked silently beside him, her expression unreadable. The night felt heavier than usual, as if the shadows themselves were conspiring against them.
"What are you thinking?" Alara finally asked, her voice cutting through the quiet.
Aran glanced at her, his face as impassive as ever. "I'm thinking that Nera was only the beginning. There's something deeper going on—something she wasn't fully aware of."
Alara raised an eyebrow. "You think she was a pawn?"
Aran nodded. "She had power, yes, but the way she acted, the way she clung to that creature… she was desperate. Desperation like that doesn't come from someone who's in control. Someone pushed her into that corner."
"And you're going to find out who."
Aran didn't respond immediately. His mind was already turning over the possibilities. If Nera had been manipulated, then whoever was pulling the strings had far more reach and power than he initially thought. His enemies weren't simply after political control—they were willing to delve into ancient magic, the kind that was forbidden even in the darkest corners of Eldrath.
The streets grew quieter as they approached the safehouse. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the walls of the narrow alleyways, blending into the soft murmur of the distant city.
When they arrived, the others were waiting. Aran's trusted team had already been briefed on the capture of Nera, and now they sat around a worn wooden table, their faces tense with anticipation.
"We've locked her up," one of the men, a grizzled agent named Harland, said as Aran entered. "She's secured in the basement. No one's getting to her without us knowing."
"Good," Aran replied, moving to take a seat at the head of the table. He steepled his fingers, his gaze sweeping over the group. "Now, we need to focus on our next steps."
"Isn't this over?" Alara asked, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. "Nera's been dealt with. The threat's contained."
Aran shook his head. "No. Nera wasn't acting alone. Someone gave her the tools, the knowledge, to summon that creature. That kind of magic doesn't come from just anywhere. It's old. Dangerous."
The room fell silent as the gravity of his words sank in.
Harland leaned forward, his voice gruff. "You're saying someone's supplying this kind of magic to people like Nera? And we've got no idea who?"
"Not yet," Aran said, his eyes narrowing. "But we will. The moment we start digging, they'll make a move. They won't stay in the shadows once they realize we're coming for them."
One of the younger agents, a wiry man named Jaren, shifted uncomfortably. "What if they've already noticed us? What if Nera's capture was a trap?"
Aran's gaze flicked to Jaren, considering his words. "That's a possibility. But if it was a trap, it was poorly set. Nera was grasping at straws when we found her. She didn't have control over the situation."
Harland grunted in agreement. "She wasn't exactly in fighting shape when we brought her in. I've seen people like her before—they think they're invincible, right up until the moment they realize they're not."
Alara glanced at Aran. "So what's the plan?"
Aran leaned back in his chair, his mind whirring with calculations. "We'll start with Nera. She's our only lead right now. If she knows anything, we'll get it out of her. But I doubt she'll give up the answers willingly."
A cold smile played on Alara's lips. "Leave that part to me."
Aran nodded. "Do what you need to. In the meantime, we'll put our feelers out in the city. Someone had to supply Nera with that magic. I want every corner of Eldrath searched. Start with the black markets. Anyone who deals in forbidden artifacts, rare tomes, anything out of the ordinary—I want to know who they are."
The group exchanged glances, the tension thick in the air. Aran's orders were clear, but the uncertainty of what they were truly up against weighed heavily on them all.
---
The Interrogation
In the dimly lit basement of the safehouse, Nera sat bound to a sturdy wooden chair, her wrists shackled with enchanted cuffs that prevented her from using any form of magic. Her face, once filled with the arrogance of power, was now gaunt and pale, her eyes wild with fear and fury.
Alara stood before her, arms crossed, a cold and calculating look in her eyes. Aran observed from the shadows, letting Alara take the lead. This wasn't the time for a direct confrontation—Nera was far too volatile. She needed to be broken down first.
"You think you've won," Nera spat, her voice trembling with rage. "You have no idea what you've just done. That creature… it's only a fraction of the power that's coming for you."
Alara tilted her head, her expression neutral. "Is that so? And who's sending this power, Nera? Who are you really working for?"
Nera's lips curled into a snarl, but she remained silent.
Alara stepped closer, her voice low and deadly. "You were never the one in control. You were a pawn. And now that you've lost, your masters will leave you to rot. You're nothing to them."
A flicker of uncertainty crossed Nera's face, but she quickly masked it with defiance. "I don't fear death."
Alara smiled, a chilling sight in the dim light. "Oh, I don't doubt that. But this isn't about death. It's about what comes after."
She leaned in close, her voice a whisper. "I've dealt with people like you before. They always think they can outlast the pain. But everyone has a breaking point. And I'm very good at finding it."
Nera's defiance wavered for a moment, but she clenched her jaw and said nothing.
Aran watched from the shadows, his eyes narrowing as he gauged Nera's reactions. She was terrified, but not of Alara. No, her fear was something far deeper—something that had its roots in whatever dark forces she had aligned herself with.
He stepped forward, emerging from the shadows. "You're not afraid of us," he said calmly. "You're afraid of them."
Nera's eyes snapped to his, her breath hitching for just a moment.
"That's why you're holding back," Aran continued, his voice soft but piercing. "You know that if you betray them, they'll do far worse than anything we could ever imagine."
Nera's expression hardened, but the fear in her eyes betrayed her.
Aran stepped closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "But here's the thing, Nera. They've already abandoned you. The moment you lost, you became expendable. You're a liability now. And they don't keep liabilities."
Nera's breathing quickened, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape.
Aran's voice dropped to a whisper. "Help us, and we'll protect you. Stay silent, and they'll find you. It's your choice."
For a long moment, Nera said nothing, her gaze fixed on the floor. Then, slowly, she lifted her eyes to meet Aran's.
"I'll tell you… what I know."
---