The next morning, Evren walked through the streets of Val'Tharis with a sense of newfound purpose. He'd successfully slipped into the fringes of power through his connection with Varis Serdran, and now he needed to turn that connection into something concrete. In Val'Tharis, loyalty was a currency as fickle as any coin, and he intended to be as careful in spending it as he was in earning it.
He had learned from Varis about a gathering that would be held in the Serdran estate that night, a place where influential figures in the city would meet to forge alliances, broker deals, and exchange whispered secrets. Evren knew this was his opportunity to embed himself further within Val'Tharis's web, but he needed a clear strategy. One misstep here could mark him as an outsider forever—or worse, get him killed.
As he walked down a narrow alley, his hand brushed against the bracelet on his wrist, feeling the power within it pulsing, as if echoing his thoughts. He hadn't fully understood its capabilities yet, but he knew enough to recognize its potential. He would need every edge he could get in tonight's game.
When night fell, Evren approached the gates of the Serdran estate. Its towering walls loomed overhead, casting long shadows that seemed to shift and move with an almost predatory grace. He straightened his cloak, concealed his dagger in his sleeve, and assumed the persona he needed tonight—confident, calm, unshakable.
***
The guards, their eyes flickering with recognition from his recent introduction to Varis, allowed him through the gates without question. Inside, the grand hall was filled with flickering candlelight, casting a golden glow on silk-draped tables and polished silverware. Nobles and merchants in extravagant attire spoke in hushed tones, their faces hidden behind elaborate masks.
Evren felt a surge of satisfaction. The masks suited this crowd—they were all playing roles, hiding behind facades as he was. He donned his own mask, a sleek design with thin, dark lines across the eyes, obscuring his features just enough to blend in while still drawing a touch of curiosity.
As he moved through the crowd, he spotted Varis near the head of the room, engaged in conversation with a small group. Evren inclined his head in a respectful nod when Varis's gaze landed on him. Varis offered a brief, approving smile and gestured for him to join the group.
"Evren, allow me to introduce some of our city's most…notable figures," Varis said, his voice smooth and low. He gestured to a woman with a cool gaze who held herself with the grace of a blade. "This is Lady Nera of House Vorran. And this," he gestured to a wiry man with sharp features, "is Master Ren, the mind behind our city's finest imports."
Evren exchanged polite greetings, sensing that both Nera and Ren were sizing him up, assessing his worth with each word he spoke. Lady Nera's eyes held a hint of disdain, as though she found newcomers beneath her notice, while Ren's interest seemed more practical, his gaze lingering on the bracelet around Evren's wrist.
"An intriguing piece of jewelry," Ren said, his voice deceptively mild. "Where might you have come by such a…unique item?"
Evren offered a faint smile. "A token of my travels. I find that rare items carry stories of their own."
"A sentiment I appreciate," Ren replied, though his eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Perhaps one day you'll share its story with me."
Evren gave a noncommittal nod, knowing better than to let Ren press further. Just then, Varis raised a glass, signaling for the room's attention. The crowd fell silent, faces turned toward him with rapt expectation.
"Tonight," Varis began, his voice echoing in the hall, "we gather to celebrate Val'Tharis and all those who make it thrive. In a city as powerful as ours, we do not succeed alone. We rely on alliances, on partnerships. And it is only through those bonds that we grow."
His gaze swept the room, pausing on Evren with a faint, knowing smirk. "Tonight, I invite anyone with ambition and courage to step forward, to propose a pact, an agreement, or a challenge. The Serdrans welcome all."
As murmurs broke out among the guests, Evren's mind raced. This was an open invitation to prove himself, but he had to be careful. Making too bold a move would mark him as a threat; too subtle, and he'd remain an outsider.
After a moment's pause, he raised his glass, catching Varis's eye. "Lord Serdran," he called, his voice calm and clear, "I have come to Val'Tharis to forge new alliances. And though I am still but a humble guest in your city, I offer my services as one who can be trusted to carry out certain…tasks discreetly."
The room went silent, every gaze turning toward him. A faint smile crossed Varis's face, his eyes gleaming with intrigue.
"And what sorts of tasks might you be offering, Evren?" Varis asked, his tone light but his expression deadly serious.
Evren met his gaze, his own smile calm. "Information. Deliveries. Even removals of…unwanted obstacles. My loyalty can be secured to those who recognize its value."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd. Some faces showed approval, others skepticism, but Evren held his stance, unshaken. He'd set his terms; now it was up to Varis.
After a moment's silence, Varis laughed—a cold, delighted sound. "A man of ambition, indeed," he said, raising his glass. "To alliances, then. May they be as strong as the shadows that guard us."
Glasses clinked, and the hum of conversation resumed. Evren felt the weight of several gazes lingering on him, assessing, calculating. He had taken his first step, made his first mark, but he knew better than to get complacent.
As he moved through the crowd, exchanging polite nods and murmured greetings, he felt the subtle shift in attitude. No longer was he merely an unknown figure. He was a player in their game now, someone worth watching—and potentially fearing.
A hand brushed his arm, and he turned to find Lady Nera watching him with narrowed eyes. "You play a dangerous game, newcomer," she murmured. "Varis may tolerate ambition, but only to a point."
Evren met her gaze, his own expression unreadable. "I've come this far because I know when to show loyalty—and when to withhold it."
A flicker of something like approval passed over her face before she melted back into the crowd. Evren watched her go, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The dance of deception had begun, and he intended to stay several steps ahead.