Aedric pressed his back against the cold stone of the palace wall, his breath steady despite the tension tightening in his chest. The servant's entrance loomed ahead—a narrow wooden door set into the lower structure, barely noticeable to an untrained eye. A hidden path into the heart of the enemy's domain.
Lirian crouched beside him, her gaze sharp as she scanned the alleyway for any signs of movement. Varen and Tessa were positioned behind them, ready to follow the moment the way was clear.
"The guards patrol the outer wall every fifteen minutes," Lirian murmured. "That gives us a small window to move unseen."
Aedric nodded. "Then we time it perfectly."
Tessa exhaled. "No mistakes."
Aedric reached for the door, testing the handle. Locked. Expected. He gestured to Varen, who pulled a small set of picks from his belt. His fingers moved with practiced ease, working at the lock with precise, deliberate motions.
A faint click.
"It's done," Varen whispered.
Aedric pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit corridor beyond. The scent of bread and herbs lingered in the air—the kitchens were close. Good. That meant minimal guards.
One by one, they slipped inside.
---
The corridor was narrow, the stone walls damp from years of poor maintenance. The palace kitchens weren't meant to be luxurious—only functional. Servants bustled between stations in the distance, their conversations blending into a low hum of activity.
Lirian motioned for them to keep close to the walls, avoiding direct light.
They moved in silence, weaving between storage crates and supply shelves. The plan was simple—reach the upper levels, find out what Gorran was plotting, and leave before anyone noticed.
Simple. But never easy.
Aedric caught sight of a staircase leading upward, but just as they reached it, the sound of boots echoed down the hallway. Guards.
Lirian cursed under her breath, pulling Varen behind a stack of barrels. Aedric and Tessa followed suit, pressing themselves into the shadows.
Two armored men passed by, their voices low.
"…Lord Gorran said they'll be arriving soon. The ritual starts at midnight."
Aedric's grip on his dagger tightened. Ritual?
The second guard scoffed. "I still don't understand why we're letting those cursed magic users into the palace. They're dangerous."
"Not our place to question," the first replied. "Besides, if what they promise is real… Gorran might have more power than the nobles combined."
The two disappeared around a corner.
Tessa whispered, "This is worse than we thought."
Aedric nodded grimly. Magic, power—Gorran wasn't just securing his hold over Velmire. He was preparing for something greater.
He motioned toward the stairs. "We need to move. Now."
---
The second floor was eerily silent. The lavish stone corridors were lined with crimson banners, golden candle holders casting flickering shadows across the walls. This was no longer the servants' domain. This was the realm of the elite.
Aedric's instincts screamed caution, but they had no choice but to push forward.
Lirian led the way, her steps near soundless against the polished floor.
Then, a voice—deep, commanding—echoed from a room nearby.
"…must ensure no interruptions. If the summoning is disrupted, the consequences will be… severe."
Aedric exchanged a glance with Tessa. They had to see this for themselves.
Slowly, carefully, they edged closer to the door. The heavy oak frame was slightly ajar, allowing them a sliver of a view inside.
And what they saw sent a chill down Aedric's spine.
A group of men stood around a grand table, the centerpiece of the lavish chamber. Lord Gorran sat at the head, his fingers steepled, his expression unreadable. Beside him stood a hooded figure, draped in dark robes adorned with symbols unfamiliar to Aedric.
A warlock.
"…the sacrifice must be prepared," the warlock continued. "The circle must be completed. If we succeed, the power granted will be beyond what any of you have dreamed."
Aedric clenched his fists. A sacrifice. A summoning.
Tessa whispered, "We have to stop this."
Aedric's mind raced. Attacking now would be reckless. They were outnumbered, and the warlock's power was an unknown threat.
They needed more information.
Aedric motioned for the others to move back. They slipped away from the door, retreating down the corridor.
Once they were safely hidden, Lirian hissed, "We can't let them complete this ritual."
Aedric nodded. "But we need a plan."
Varen crossed his arms. "A loud fight will get us killed. We need a smarter approach."
Tessa's brow furrowed. "What if we take the sacrifice?"
They all turned to her.
She continued, "If they need someone for the ritual, and we get to them first, we stop it before it starts."
Aedric considered it. A risky move—but their best chance.
He exhaled. "Then we find the sacrifice."
---
The lower levels of the palace held the dungeons, where prisoners were kept away from the public eye. It was the most likely place where the intended sacrifice would be held.
Aedric led the way, descending a narrow staircase into the cold, damp darkness below. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and iron.
The hallway stretched ahead, lined with cells. Most were empty.
Until they found her.
A young woman, bound in chains, sat against the far wall. Her clothes were tattered, her face pale—but her eyes burned with defiance.
She looked up as they approached, her voice hoarse but steady. "Who are you?"
Aedric knelt beside her. "We're here to get you out."
She studied him for a moment before nodding. "Then move fast. They'll be coming soon."
Tessa worked at the chains while Varen kept watch.
Lirian whispered, "Who is she?"
The woman met her gaze. "The last mistake Gorran ever made."
The chains fell away.
Aedric helped her to her feet.
Then, from above—shouting. Footsteps.
They had been discovered.
Aedric drew his blade.
No turning back now.