Aran stood before the merchant guild's towering building, his expression unreadable as he gazed up at its grand façade. The guild was one of the oldest and most influential institutions in the city of Aramore, and its loyalty had been a deciding factor in countless political struggles over the years. The inside dealings of the guild, however, had remained elusive, even to Aran. Until now.
"Are you certain about this approach?" Selene asked, standing just behind him. Her voice was soft, yet the undercurrent of doubt was unmistakable. She had seen Aran pull off remarkable feats before, but this time, the stakes were higher, and the opposition more unpredictable.
Aran didn't respond immediately, allowing the tension to linger between them. His silence, however, wasn't an indication of hesitation but a calculated pause. He wanted Selene—and anyone else watching—to believe that this moment was fragile, a delicate balance that could tip in any direction.
"We need them to doubt Valen Rook," Aran finally said, his voice steady. "They don't need to trust Hargrave, only believe that Rook is a greater threat to their autonomy."
Selene exhaled slowly, her brow furrowed. "Rook has been careful. His promises to the guild seem reasonable on the surface, and he's not yet shown his hand fully. What makes you think they'll be swayed by rumors alone?"
Aran allowed a small smile to play at the corner of his lips. "Because rumors aren't enough. We'll give them more than just whispers—we'll offer them a vision of their own downfall."
Selene tilted her head, curious. "What exactly do you have planned?"
Aran turned away from the guild's entrance, leading Selene down a quiet alley. There, away from the prying eyes of the city, he explained the next phase of his plan. "The guild thrives on control. They see themselves as the backbone of Aramore's economy, and they'll fight to preserve that control at any cost."
He paused, glancing at Selene to make sure she was following his thought process. "But if they believe that Rook's ambitions go beyond simple political power—if they think he's aiming for complete control over the city's trade and commerce—they'll turn on him in an instant."
Selene's eyes narrowed slightly. "So, we need to plant something concrete. Something that makes it seem like Rook is overreaching."
"Exactly," Aran said, pleased with her quick understanding. "We'll create forged contracts, backdated agreements that imply Rook has already made moves to monopolize key trade routes."
Selene's lips curled into a slow smile. "They'll be forced to act, especially if they believe their wealth is at risk."
"And that's where we come in," Aran continued, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "We'll present ourselves as neutral mediators. We won't back Hargrave outright, but we'll suggest that his traditional methods of governance are less threatening than Rook's aggressive expansion. The guild will fall in line."
Selene nodded, already considering the details. "I can handle the forgery. But what about Astara? She's impulsive. She might sense the deception before we're ready."
Aran's smile deepened, his eyes gleaming with a dark, calculating light. "Astara will be too busy with her own schemes. We'll feed her just enough information to keep her chasing shadows while we secure the guild's support."
Satisfied with the plan, they made their way back toward the guild. The air around them seemed charged with tension, but Aran remained calm, his mind racing through the possible outcomes. He thrived in these moments—when every step was a calculated risk, and every decision could change the course of the city's future.
Inside the guild's grand hall, they were greeted by a low murmur of voices and the sound of hurried footsteps. The merchants were nervous, their unease palpable. The recent political shifts had unsettled their delicate balance, and they were looking for any signs of stability.
Aran was led to a private meeting room, where the guild's leaders sat around a large, ornate table. Each one of them wore expressions of varying concern and suspicion, their gazes flickering between Aran and Selene as they entered.
Guildmaster Rovan, a stout man with thinning hair and sharp eyes, motioned for Aran to sit. "We weren't expecting a visit from you, Lord Aran," Rovan said, his tone formal but wary.
Aran inclined his head in polite acknowledgment as he took his seat. "I apologize for the intrusion, Guildmaster. But with the recent developments in the council, I felt it necessary to have a candid conversation."
Rovan's brow furrowed. "About?"
"Valen Rook," Aran said simply, watching the guild members' reactions carefully. "I've heard whispers that you're considering aligning with his faction. I wanted to offer some insights that might influence your decision."
The room grew still, the air thick with tension. Rovan exchanged a glance with one of his advisors, a wiry man named Castor who had a reputation for being particularly cautious.
"Go on," Castor said, his voice soft but insistent.
Aran leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a dangerous secret. "I have reason to believe that Rook's ambitions extend far beyond what he's revealed to the council. His rise has been too sudden, too calculated. I fear he's positioning himself to seize control of the city's entire trade network."
A murmur of surprise rippled through the room. The guild members glanced at one another, uncertainty creeping into their expressions.
Rovan narrowed his eyes. "That's a serious accusation. What proof do you have?"
Aran smiled inwardly, knowing that this was the moment he'd been preparing for. He pulled a small, sealed envelope from his coat and placed it on the table. "Inside, you'll find copies of agreements Rook has made with several key trading partners outside the city. They're recent, but if you look closely, you'll see that they're designed to give him control over critical trade routes."
Rovan eyed the envelope warily, but Castor was quicker, reaching for it and breaking the seal. His eyes scanned the contents, and his expression darkened.
"These are… troubling," Castor admitted, his voice tight. "If these deals go through, Rook will have a monopoly on half the city's imports."
The rest of the guild leaders shifted uncomfortably in their seats. For a moment, the room was filled with the sound of whispered conversations, the guild's leadership suddenly forced to reconsider their options.
"We need time to review this," Rovan finally said, his voice strained.
"Of course," Aran said smoothly, standing. "But I would urge you to act quickly. Rook isn't one to wait, and neither is the rest of the council."
With that, Aran and Selene made their exit, leaving the guild leaders to their uneasy deliberations. As they walked out into the street, Selene glanced at Aran, her expression one of admiration mixed with curiosity.
"That went well," she remarked.
Aran's smile was small, almost imperceptible. "It's only just begun. The real test will be how they respond once the rumors about Rook start to spread."
"And if they side with him?"
Aran's eyes gleamed with cold certainty. "They won't. Not after today."
As they disappeared into the bustling streets of Aramore, the city seemed to pulse with the energy of impending change. The pieces were moving, and the game was far from over. But Aran knew that, once again, he had taken control from the shadows—where he belonged.