Chapter 8: First Lessons of Power
The streets of the capital buzzed with life, as if the very air was thick with purpose and ambition. Riven walked cautiously beside Eryk, his eyes darting between the towering stone buildings and the hasty movements of the people who rushed by, their faces a blur of intent. For all its grandeur, the city felt overwhelming, like a beast that demanded respect and understanding. And though Riven had spent most of his life in quiet seclusion, this city, with all its power and secrets, seemed like an entirely different world.
They had arrived early that morning, and Riven had been eager to explore, but Eryk had insisted on meeting someone important first. Someone who, according to him, could provide invaluable insight into the workings of the capital.
"Who exactly are we meeting?" Riven had asked, his curiosity piqued.
"You'll see soon enough," Eryk had replied cryptically, his tone leaving little room for further questions.
Now, they stood in front of a grand mansion on the edge of the city. Its marble columns gleamed in the midday sun, and the intricately carved doors seemed to invite them inside. Riven's stomach tightened with uncertainty as they approached, but Eryk seemed unfazed. He knocked twice on the massive wooden door, and within moments, it creaked open.
A tall, imposing man stood in the doorway. His sharp eyes studied Riven with an intensity that made him feel small, as if he were under a microscope. The man's dark hair was slicked back neatly, and he wore fine clothes that spoke of wealth and status.
"You must be Eryk," the man said in a voice that was smooth, almost practiced. He glanced at Riven, then back to Eryk. "And this must be your young companion. Riven, was it?"
Riven nodded hesitantly. The man's gaze was piercing, and it felt as though he could see through every layer of Riven's defenses.
"I'm Lord Daeron," the man continued, stepping aside to allow them entry. "Welcome to my home. I trust you've come for more than just idle conversation."
Eryk stepped forward with a grin. "Of course, Lord Daeron. We've come to learn. I believe you have much to teach."
As they entered the mansion, Riven couldn't help but feel the weight of the place. Rich tapestries hung from the walls, and the air was thick with the scent of fine wine and exotic spices. The place was a symbol of power, and Riven couldn't shake the feeling that they were walking into the heart of something much larger than themselves.
Lord Daeron led them to a sitting room, where servants quickly brought in refreshments. He gestured for them to sit, and Riven hesitated for a moment before settling into a plush chair. Eryk sat across from Lord Daeron, and Riven took a seat beside him, unsure of how to behave.
"So, you've made it to the capital," Lord Daeron said, his tone casual, but Riven could sense the weight of the words. "I assume you've come to learn how to navigate this city's intricate web of power, yes?"
Riven nodded, his eyes fixed on Lord Daeron as he spoke. Eryk had been right—this city was far more complicated than he had imagined.
Lord Daeron leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him as he studied Riven with a calculating expression. "The first lesson you must learn, Riven, is that power here is not just about strength or skill. It's about connections. The most influential domaders in the capital didn't rise to the top because they were the best fighters or had the most powerful beasts. They rose because they knew how to play the game. They understood the politics, the alliances, and the subtle art of manipulation."
Riven absorbed the words, his mind racing. The idea of power being linked to something other than sheer strength was a foreign concept to him. Back home, strength was everything. But here, it seemed like there was something deeper at play.
"You see, the capital is ruled by more than just the king," Lord Daeron continued. "It's a city built on negotiation and compromise. Every faction, every group, has its own interests, and they don't hesitate to use each other to further their goals. The domaders who rise to power do so because they know how to align themselves with the right people."
Riven's brow furrowed as he listened. It all sounded so… manipulative. Back in his village, things had been simple. Fight, protect, survive. But in the capital, everything seemed like a game of chess, where every move could either bring you closer to your goal or make you a pawn to someone else's designs.
"What do you mean by 'aligning' yourself with the right people?" Riven asked, his voice betraying the curiosity and confusion he felt.
Lord Daeron smiled, as if he had been waiting for that question. "The key is understanding who holds power and how they wield it. There are those who have power through wealth, those who have power through influence, and those who have power through knowledge. If you want to survive in this city, you must understand where you fit into this dynamic."
He leaned forward, his gaze intense. "Your beast, Riven—Nyx, is it?—can be a valuable asset. But it's not just your bond with her that matters. It's how you present that bond, how you use it to your advantage. You must make sure that others see you as someone with something to offer."
Riven felt a surge of uncertainty at Lord Daeron's words. Was he really prepared to play this kind of game? He had come to the capital to learn how to become stronger, to understand his role in this vast world. But this? This was a different kind of strength, one that he had never even considered.
Lord Daeron's voice broke through his thoughts. "Let me give you an example. Take the Domaders' Guild, for instance. It's a powerful institution, but it's not just the strongest fighters who lead it. It's the ones who have the ear of the influential nobles and merchants. The ones who have connections to the royal court. The ones who know how to get things done without lifting a finger."
Riven's gaze shifted to Eryk, who had been listening intently. Eryk met his eyes and gave him a small nod, as if to say that Lord Daeron's words held weight. Riven turned back to the lord, feeling a mix of awe and apprehension.
"So, what do I do?" Riven asked, his voice low.
Lord Daeron chuckled softly. "That's the question, isn't it? The answer, my young friend, is simple. You must learn to be patient. You must learn to listen. And above all, you must learn to make connections. Because in this city, those connections are everything."
The conversation continued for hours, with Lord Daeron offering more insights into the world of politics and power in the capital. He spoke of the different factions vying for control, the hidden alliances, and the subtle ways in which power was wielded. Riven listened intently, taking mental notes of everything Lord Daeron said. But as the day wore on, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being drawn into a world he wasn't ready for.
As they left Lord Daeron's mansion, Riven's mind was spinning with new information. Eryk, ever the calm and collected mentor, walked beside him without saying a word. The two of them made their way back to the bustling streets of the capital, the weight of the city's politics pressing down on Riven's shoulders.
"Do you understand now?" Eryk asked quietly.
Riven nodded slowly, though his thoughts were still muddled. "I think so. But it's… a lot to take in."
Eryk smiled faintly. "It always is. But you'll learn. And when you do, you'll see the world in a new light."
As they continued down the street, Riven couldn't help but wonder just how far he was willing to go to survive in this cutthroat world. His strength, his bond with Nyx—these things were important, yes. But the real question was whether he had the patience, the cunning, and the will to play the game.
End of Chapter 8.