A world stirring beneath their feet, Aeron could feel its whisper upon the air that he breathed. The once-peaceful lands of Rhanar boiled like a cauldron with loyalties forever shifting and plots hidden at every turn. As murmurs of dissent began to spread, so too did the building of his forces. There were many who questioned his leadership; others who were afraid of the power he commanded-those few whispering that the Crystals had changed him in ways even he could not fully fathom.
Aeron stood at the top of the cliff, his hair whipping in the wind. Before him sprawled the city of Rhanar, alive, writhing like some great beast, its many factions moving in the shadows. Every day, reports arrived, messages of unrest filtering in from all corners of the known continent. The Empire in the west, the Eastern Kingdoms-even the Darkwilds-they were all watching Rhanar, he knew, waiting upon some word of weakness.
Behind him, Kara drew closer, her footsteps quiet and light, yet sure, drawn off of late-a growing distance he could feel deep in his bones without being able to place a reason on. Always his nearest and dearest, his right hand, but there was something in her eyes now that suggested to him she began to doubt the very path they had chosen.
You look perturbed, she said, her voice even as always, but with an unmistakable bite in it. Anything wrong?
Aeron turned, his gaze hardening as he met her eyes. "The rebellion is growing, Kara. It's not just the Twilight Order or the Stormborn anymore. Our own people are beginning to turn against us. They see us as tyrants—rulers who wield the power of the Crystals, and who knows what we'll do next. They fear us."
Kara's lips tightened. She'd known this would happen, but it wasn't quite the same, somehow, as seeing it. "Fear is a weapon, Aeron. It can be controlled. But we have to be careful. If we push too hard, if we give them a reason to rise up…
"We won't let them," Aeron interrupted, his voice tinged with an edge of frustration. "I didn't bring them together just to watch it all fall apart. We'll crush the rebellion before it starts."
But even as the words fell from his lips, a shadow of doubt seemed to linger within his mind. Something in the way Kara looked at him-something that begged a question in his mind whether their plans were really as foolproof as he believed.
The Meeting of the Betrayed
That night, Aeron called a clandestine meeting between himself and the faction leaders who had pledged the pledge of honor to him. In the poor light, only a few crystal sconces shed their soft glow, casting eerie light to cast long shadows on the stone walls. Across the table sat Darius and Lira and a few others-each representative of a different faction within his growing coalition.
But one face was missing.
"Where is Malthus?" Aeron yelled, his eyes scanning the assembled crowd.
Darius shifted uncomfortably. "He's… gone. Disappeared. We've searched everywhere."
Aeron's fists clenched. Malthus was one of his most trusted commanders, the soldier who had fought at his side through a hundred battles. That he would vanish into the dust without so much as a whisper was more than the simple changing of sides-it was betrayal.
"Find him," Aeron commanded icily. "If he has changed allegiances, we will make him an example.
The room fell silent as faces turned to faces, exchanging awkward glances. Malthus had indeed been one of but a few who knew all that Aeron had at his command. His betrayal-if that was what it was-may well portend the beginning of a much larger conspiracy.
Is this quite certain to apply to Malthus? " Lira asked, her voice as sharp as a razor. "There have been rumors, Aeron. Rumors that the revolution has begun, that there are among us those who start to question your leadership.
Aeron shot her a withering glance. His jaw was clenched. "Any rebellion that rises, we put it down. But I won't be ruled by fear. I didn't create an empire just to see it go to pieces from inside.".
Yet, even as he did this, a gnawing sensation took root in his chest: was this the right path, or was the rebellion something that rightly should be crushed, an omen or portent, perhaps, that his growing power had begun to alienate those closest to him?
The Rise of the Resistance
Beyond the walls of Rhanar, there was another world. Tucked away in forested hills overlooking the city, a camp had come into being-a camp once upon a time following the lead of Aeron, now home to the nascent resistance.
Malthus stood tall, his back straightened, as he rallied a group of disheartened soldiers that once were loyal-even unto death-for Aeron, who felt betrayed by what the Aether Crystals did to him. "We must rise now, before it is too late," Malthus whispered low, full of fire. "The Crystals corrupt him; the man we once followed is gone; power consumed him. It is time now to take Rhanar into our hands before the Crystals claim it all." There were murmurs of assent all around him, but those who demurred too; the power Aeron commanded was a thing of terror, and some had a grim foreboding they would be brutally killed for their impertinence. But Malthus knew what was in the scale. The Crystals, that once-ancient power of salvation, were now a curse, for whoever possessed them would dominate the whole world, and Aeron, having grown insatiable in his lust for power, had already turned too dangerous. It was the very balance of the world that was in the balance, and it would be blown asunder forever unless they acted soon. "We move at dawn," Malthus said, his voice resolute. "And this time, we'll make sure Aeron understands—no one is beyond the reach of the people."