Kaelan leaned against the worn wooden table, the flickering light from a nearby lantern casting shadows on the stone walls of the room. Milo sat across from him, leaning in slightly, as if sharing some important secret. Their conversation had veered away from mundane matters, and Kaelan's thoughts were now consumed with his new barony and the land that had been handed to him. His next move would be crucial, and he knew it was time to seek the one thing he lacked most: information.
"Milo," Kaelan said, his voice steady but filled with purpose. "Tell me about the Information Guild. You said they control the flow of whispers in this land, but I don't know anything about them yet."
Milo's expression shifted, a shadow of hesitation crossing his face. He was cautious, but Kaelan knew it was only natural. Few knew about the guild, and even fewer understood it.
"Well, Kaelan," Milo began slowly, "they don't operate like any other guild. Most people think they're just a tavern, but the moment you step inside, you'll know it's something far more. It's an old place, one that doesn't ask questions, but expects you to answer them. If you want to learn something—anything—they have it. But they don't just hand things out. You'll have to prove yourself before they let you near anything valuable."
Kaelan raised an eyebrow. "Prove myself?" he repeated, intrigued. "And how exactly does one prove themselves to a guild that sells information?"
Milo leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying Kaelan's curiosity. "They have a method. You'll see when you get there. But just know, don't walk in like a noble. No titles. No airs. They won't entertain it. If you show weakness, they'll turn you away before you can even speak to the master."
Kaelan's lips twitched. "Then I'll make sure to impress them."
Milo gave a small, knowing smile. "I don't doubt it."
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The door to the Information Guild was as plain as any tavern in the kingdom. A weathered sign swung lazily above it, the faint glow from within beckoning Kaelan inside. The building had a humble appearance, nothing out of the ordinary. But Kaelan wasn't fooled; everything here was designed to keep people unaware of the true nature of the place.
Inside, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The tavern was dim, the smell of ale and tobacco in the air, but there was something more—a quiet murmur of hushed conversations and the occasional sharp glance exchanged between patrons. None of them seemed to pay attention to Kaelan, and he preferred it that way. He was used to being overlooked by those who didn't recognize him.
Milo led him through the room, weaving between tables where the regulars seemed to barely notice his presence. Then they reached the back, where a door sat half open, leading into a narrow hallway. Without a word, Milo knocked three times on the door, and it swung open without hesitation.
Inside, the room was bare and functional, the walls dark stone and the furniture minimal. There was no grandeur here, no lavish display of wealth. Just a single figure sitting at a table, his face hidden by shadow.
The man was older than Kaelan expected, with sharp eyes that immediately locked onto him as soon as he entered. The guild master didn't stand, didn't bow, didn't make any effort to acknowledge Kaelan's title. He simply stared at him, appraising him as if he were a mere pawn in a much larger game.
Kaelan felt no need to bow either. The man before him might be the guild master, but Kaelan was no common noble. He was the son of Drakemont, and no matter the game this guild played, he had no intention of following anyone's lead.
The guild master spoke first, his voice low and deliberate. "You seek something that can't be found in plain sight. But then again, you already knew that."
Kaelan met his gaze evenly. "I don't waste time with things I can't use."
The guild master's lips curved into something of a smile, though it was unreadable. "Then you understand the nature of the game. Information is a currency, but the price is never what you expect. You're not here for idle chatter, are you? No, you want something... more."
Kaelan's eyes flickered with intent. "I need to know about Blackthorn," he said, his tone calm but firm. "The land I've inherited. What it truly is. What it holds."
The guild master leaned back in his chair, a deliberate pause following Kaelan's words. His fingers tapped lightly on the table, and for a moment, Kaelan wondered if he'd been dismissed without another word.
Then, the guild master spoke in a cryptic tone. "Blackthorn… a land of silence. But silence is not always emptiness. It is a place where echoes linger, waiting for the right voice to bring them back to life. A land abandoned, or so they say. But perhaps, Kaelan Drakemont, it is simply waiting for its true heir to return."
Kaelan's eyes narrowed slightly, sensing that there was more to this than what the guild master was saying. "What do you mean by 'waiting for its true heir'?"
The guild master's smile grew thin, and he leaned forward, his eyes glinting with something Kaelan couldn't quite place. "Ah, the question, my young lord, is not what Blackthorn needs, but what you will do with it. Those who claim the land before you, they were all flawed in their own way. But perhaps, the one who has returned will prove worthy. The land does not yield easily. Not to those who are weak."
Kaelan held his ground, meeting the guild master's gaze without flinching. "I'm not here to waste time with riddles. I need something concrete—information that will help me tame Blackthorn."
The guild master paused, his lips curling slightly. "Perhaps you are sharper than I gave you credit for," he mused. "In due time, the answers you seek will come. But information is not something that can be handed over freely. Sometimes, it must be earned. And the price is not always gold."
Kaelan's patience was wearing thin, but he knew better than to rush the situation. He had come too far to back down now. "Then let's see what price you deem appropriate."
The guild master's expression became unreadable once again. He gave a slow nod, as though finally seeing the truth in Kaelan's words. "Very well," he said, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Take this." He reached into his cloak and produced a small piece of parchment. "When the time comes, you will know where to go. When you stand where the shadows grow long, you will find the key you seek."
Kaelan took the letter without hesitation, his mind already working through the implications. He didn't need any more cryptic nonsense. This was the information he needed—finally.
The guild master's voice lingered in the air as Kaelan turned to leave. "Remember, Kaelan Drakemont. We shall meet again. In Blackthorn, where the truth will be revealed. Only then will you understand the weight of the game you've chosen to play."