The journey to the capital was long and arduous. The terrain grew more treacherous as we moved farther from the coast, the hills rising in jagged spires that seemed to scrape the sky itself. The path was narrow, often overgrown with brambles and sharp thorns that tore at our clothes and skin, but Darius led the way with a quiet determination, as though the land itself had no power to stop him.
I kept my distance, but my thoughts were never far from the capital. It was a city of power, of whispers and shadows, a place where the Templars' grip was strongest. If we were to infiltrate it, we would need more than just stealth and speed. We would need information, allies, and, above all, patience. The walls of the capital were not just physical; they were woven into every aspect of life within the city, from the noble courts to the streets, where every corner might hide a spy.
At night, we camped in secluded spots, staying away from any signs of civilization. Darius was always vigilant, always watching, but it wasn't just the Templars we had to worry about. Bandits roamed these hills, men and women desperate enough to steal from anyone, and we were no exception.
"Keep your wits about you," Darius had warned the night before, his voice low and serious. "We're not the only ones who want to survive."
I nodded, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling that settled in my gut. Every night, the wind howled through the trees like a reminder that we were out of place here—alone, exposed. But each day, we grew closer to our destination, and the unease transformed into something sharper, more focused. The closer we got to the city, the more I could feel the weight of our mission pressing down on me.
On the fifth day, we reached the outskirts of the capital.
The sight of it took my breath away. It was a city built on power, wealth, and secrecy—a sprawling labyrinth of towering stone structures, grand palaces, and fortresses that seemed to rise out of the earth itself. The capital sat on the edge of a great river, its waters flowing dark and silent beneath the shadow of the city's walls. Above it all, the Templar stronghold loomed like a dark, silent sentinel, the banners of the Order fluttering in the breeze.
Darius didn't seem impressed by the city's grandeur. He merely glanced at it, as if it were just another part of the journey.
"We'll have to be careful now," he said, his voice soft but firm. "The city is full of eyes. If they know we're here, it'll be all over before we even get started."
I nodded, my eyes scanning the streets below, the crowds moving like ants, unaware of the storm that was about to break over them. But beneath that calm exterior, I could feel the tension rising. The Templars' presence was everywhere, in the glances of passing soldiers, the cold stone faces of the city's residents. No one here could be trusted—not even the shadows.
We found refuge in a run-down tavern at the edge of the city, a place where the smell of stale beer and burning wood seemed to cling to the air. It wasn't much, but it was hidden. Darius knew places like this—forgotten corners of the world where the right people could be found.
Inside, the air was thick with the smoke of poorly lit candles and the hum of hushed conversations. The flickering light cast strange shadows across the walls, and the clink of coin echoed as gamblers gathered around a table in the corner.
Darius made his way to the back of the room without a word, and I followed, not bothering to ask where we were going. He had a plan, and that was enough for now.
We stopped in front of a door marked only by a faded symbol—a bird with its wings spread wide. Darius knocked twice, the sound echoing through the silent hallway beyond.
A moment later, the door creaked open, and a man appeared. He was older than I expected, with graying hair and a crooked smile that seemed more practiced than sincere.
"Darius," the man said with a sharp nod, his voice low. "I thought you'd be dead by now."
"Not yet," Darius replied, his tone cool, as always. "But we need your help."
The man studied me for a moment before stepping aside. "Come in. We'll talk."
Inside, the room was dimly lit, with maps and papers scattered across a table. The man's home—or whatever this place was—felt more like a base of operations than a residence. There were no personal touches, no sign of a life outside the war that seemed to be his constant companion.
Darius didn't waste time with pleasantries. He moved straight to the point. "The Grand Master is making his move. We need to know what's happening inside the city—and we need it fast."
The man nodded slowly, his fingers tapping on the edge of a map spread out in front of him. "You're not the only ones trying to make a move," he said quietly. "The Templars have eyes everywhere, and they don't take kindly to interference. You'll need more than just the usual tricks to get close to the Grand Master."
I stepped forward, unable to keep quiet any longer. "What's your plan?" I asked, trying to pierce the thick silence.
The man's eyes flicked to me briefly before returning to Darius. "The capital's a city of masks, Elara. Everyone wears one. The key is to find those who don't. The underground, the factions in the slums—they're the only ones who can help you."
Darius was already nodding. "We've been preparing for this. We'll need contacts, information, and a way into the Templar stronghold."
The man smiled darkly. "You'll get that. But be prepared—nothing in this city is as it seems. Trust no one, not even those who claim to be on your side."
I felt the weight of his words, a warning that echoed the doubts I had been carrying for days. I wasn't sure I believed in this plan, in the idea of tearing down the Templars from the inside. But I knew there was no other choice.
Darius turned to leave without another word, and I followed him, my mind racing with the sudden realization that we were stepping into a game far bigger than either of us had expected. This city was a cage, and we were the prey. But even in the face of all that danger, I knew one thing for sure: we couldn't afford to fail.
The stakes were too high.
And the Templars? They would never see us coming.