The weight of Kallis' words lingered as Kaelen left the archives. A curse. That was what the Crimson Power had been called. But curses were meant to be broken, weren't they?
His thoughts swirled as he stepped into the cool night air. The academy grounds were quiet, the towering spires casting long shadows beneath the pale moonlight. Kaelen had no intention of returning to his quarters not when there were still too many unanswered questions.
He needed information. And there was only one place where people spoke the truth when properly motivated.
The Crimson Veil - Underground Syndicate Tavern
The tavern reeked of spiced ale and deception. Tucked away in the slums of the capital, the Crimson Veil was a place where mercenaries, smugglers, and power-hungry nobles gathered under the pretense of camaraderie. In reality, it was a cesspool of whispered deals and veiled threats.
Kaelen adjusted his hood, keeping his expression neutral as he entered. The moment he stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. Conversations quieted, wary eyes tracking him.
He ignored them and moved to the bar.
"Ale," he muttered, tossing a few silver coins onto the counter.
The bartender, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, eyed him suspiciously but poured the drink. "You don't look like the usual kind that comes here."
Kaelen smirked. "Maybe I'm just looking for a good story."
The bartender let out a short chuckle. "Stories don't come cheap."
Kaelen slid another coin across the counter. "How about now?"
The man glanced at the silver, then leaned in. "Depends on what kind of story you want to hear."
Kaelen took a slow sip of his drink before responding. "Tell me about the Underground Syndicate."
The bartender's expression darkened. "You're playing a dangerous game, friend."
"I prefer to call it gathering knowledge."
The bartender sighed, casting a glance around the room before speaking in a hushed tone.
"The Syndicate isn't just a group of criminals. It's an empire hidden beneath the surface of this city. Assassins, black-market traders, spies they control it all. And at the top?" He hesitated, as if saying the name itself would summon something dark.
Kaelen's patience wore thin. "Who?"
"…Elias Drennar."
The name sent a chill through Kaelen's spine.
"Word is, he's been making moves," the bartender continued. "Looking for someone. Someone with forbidden power." His gaze sharpened. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
Kaelen forced a smirk. "Just a curious traveler."
The bartender huffed. "Curiosity gets people killed."
Kaelen downed the rest of his ale and set the mug down. "Only if they're careless."
As he turned to leave, a figure intercepted him. A woman with striking emerald eyes and twin daggers at her hips.
"You're not as subtle as you think," she murmured.
Kaelen tensed. "And you are?"
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Seraphina Thorne. And if you want to survive in this city, you'll need my help."
To Be Continued…