Orwen's fall had sent ripples through the Academy. The nobles who once whispered in his favor now avoided his name entirely, while those who had opposed him watched cautiously, waiting to see who would step into the power vacuum he had left behind. Eryndor noticed the subtle shifts the way alliances were being redrawn, the hushed conversations in the corridors, the wary glances from those uncertain where their loyalties should lie. Power had shifted, and now, the Academy was adjusting.
He sat in the Royal Pavilion, the warm glow of candlelight flickering against the walls. Across from him, Darius leaned back in his chair, idly twirling a dagger between his fingers. "You really know how to make things interesting, Valeria," he mused. "Orwen had wealth, influence, a solid network, and now? He's nothing more than a disgraced noble waiting for a slow political death." His smirk sharpened as he let the dagger slip between his fingers, catching it just before it embedded into the wooden table. "Not that I'm complaining. It's quite entertaining to watch."
Eryndor studied the pile of parchments stacked on the table between them. Several bore the crests of noble families requests for meetings, offers of allegiance, veiled threats disguised as polite inquiries. "Now that he's gone, everyone wants to know who will replace him." He tossed one of the letters aside. "Or more importantly, which side they should be standing on when it happens."
Darius chuckled. "Exactly. And that's why we need to move before someone else does."
Eryndor raised a brow. "You already have a plan."
Darius grinned. "Of course I do. We claim everything Orwen left behind before anyone else can."
The following morning, the Academy's training grounds felt different. Eryndor noticed it the moment he stepped outside. Students moved with an edge of caution, their usual bravado tempered by uncertainty. Power had shifted, and the ones who had aligned themselves with Orwen were now exposed, vulnerable. Some of them would seek protection. Others would try to reclaim what they had lost.
He wasn't surprised when Cedric Belmont approached him. The older student moved with the same easy confidence he always had, but his sharp gaze held a new curiosity. "You shook the whole damn Academy with that stunt," Cedric remarked. "People are either going to follow you or try to take you down. I assume you've thought of that?"
Eryndor met his gaze evenly. "Let them try."
Cedric smirked. "Good answer." He crossed his arms, glancing around the courtyard where several nobles were watching them. "I take it you've already got a plan for what comes next?"
Eryndor nodded. "I do."
Cedric chuckled. "Then I'll be watching."
He walked away without another word, leaving Eryndor to the growing storm that was brewing around him.
That evening, a formal invitation arrived, bearing the crest of House Alden, one of Orwen's former allies. Darius read the message aloud, amusement flickering in his tone. "That didn't take long."
Eryndor glanced at the parchment. House Alden had been a name of importance once, but their influence had waned over the years. Aligning with Orwen had been a desperate attempt to cling to relevance, and now that he was gone, they were scrambling for new allies. "They want protection," he said simply.
"And they're willing to pay for it," Darius added, tossing the parchment onto the table. "The real question is whether or not they're worth the trouble."
Eryndor leaned forward, considering. "That depends. If they're willing to swear loyalty, we take them. If not…" He shrugged. "We let them sink."
Darius grinned. "I like how you think."
The meeting was held in House Alden's estate, a grand hall adorned with faded banners and portraits of past lords. Eryndor and Darius arrived just before nightfall, greeted by Lord Alden himself, a wiry man with sharp eyes and a cautious demeanor. "Your Highness, Lord Valeria," Alden greeted, his voice measured, polite. "I appreciate you coming on such short notice."
Darius didn't sit. "Let's skip the pleasantries, Alden. What do you want?"
The noble hesitated but composed himself quickly. "With Orwen's… departure, my house finds itself without strong allies."
"And?" Eryndor prompted.
Alden exhaled, gesturing to a set of documents on the table. "An arrangement. We offer trade routes, land, military support should it be necessary."
Eryndor picked up the parchment, scanning the terms. The offer was generous, but generosity born of desperation rarely lasted. He set the document down. "You backed Orwen. You stood by him even when you knew what he was doing. Why should we trust you now?"
Alden's gaze hardened. "Because we have no other choice."
There was truth in the words.
Darius exchanged a glance with Eryndor before nodding slightly. "Then swear it," Eryndor said.
Alden frowned. "Swear?"
"A formal declaration of loyalty," Darius clarified. "Signed. Witnessed by the royal court. If you betray us, the consequences will be absolute."
Alden's jaw tightened, but after a moment, he gave a slow nod. "Very well."
Eryndor sat back. "Then we have a deal."
By the time they left the estate, the night air was crisp, the streets quiet.
"That went well," Darius said, stretching his arms lazily.
Eryndor wasn't convinced. "It was too easy."
Darius smirked. "That's what makes it interesting."
They walked in silence for a while before the prince spoke again. "You realize what's happening, don't you?"
Eryndor glanced at him. "What?"
Darius's smirk widened. "You're not just a student anymore, Valeria. You're building something. And soon, people won't just be watching you." He turned slightly, his expression sharpening. "They'll be following you."
Eryndor didn't answer immediately. He had never sought leadership, only control over his own fate. But maybe… maybe they were the same thing. His fingers curled slightly at his sides.
"If they follow," he finally said, "they'd better be ready for war."
Darius laughed. "Oh, they will be."
And with that, they disappeared into the night, knowing that the true battle was only beginning.