In the city of Blackmere, where most of the world remained unaware of its existence, a tunnel stretched like a long, winding corridor beneath the earth. The air was heavy with silence as figures clad in black cloaks and pitch-black masks moved in unison, their footsteps the only sound echoing off the damp stone walls. None of them spoke. None of them hesitated. Their destination lay ahead, beyond the tunnel's dimly lit passage.
A faint glow emerged in the distance, growing brighter with each step. As they neared the tunnel's end, the light fully revealed a vast underground hall. The chamber was massive, its stone walls lined with ancient pillars that reached toward a ceiling shrouded in darkness. Torches flickered along the walls, casting long shadows over the assembled figures. In the center of the hall stood a raised stone pedestal, and upon it sat a lone figure clad in a red cloak, a black mask concealing his face like the others.
Without a word, the cloaked figures formed a circle around the pedestal, their movements precise and practiced. They stood in absolute silence, waiting for the man in red to speak.
"My brothers."
His deep voice echoed through the hall, commanding attention. The gathered figures straightened, their focus locked onto him.
"I did not summon you here by choice, but by the will of our prince. He has made his decision." The man's voice remained steady, unwavering. "Three nights from now, we will strike. The city of Blackmere will be no more."
Not a single murmur of protest rose from the group.
"We are but humble servants, and we shall obey—no matter the cost." His words carried a finality that left no room for doubt. "When the night settles, there will be no signal. No hesitation. Every one of you will move as commanded. That is all."
He raised a gloved hand, clenching it into a fist.
"All of this is for a better future. Long live the Prince. His will is law, his reign unquestioned."
A chorus of voices responded in unison.
"Long live the Prince. His will is law, his reign unquestioned."
The chant carried through the hall, their devotion unwavering, their conviction absolute. They repeated the words over and over, the sound reverberating through the chamber like a sacred ritual.
Then, one by one, they turned and departed, vanishing into the tunnels from which they came.
When the last figure disappeared into the darkness, the man in red finally moved. He descended from the pedestal, his posture shifting from the commanding presence he had upheld moments ago. He took a knee, reaching into his cloak. From within, he retrieved a black, spherical crystal. The moment it left his grasp, it hovered before him, pulsing with an eerie glow.
"Everything is prepared, Your Highness," he said, his voice now filled with reverence.
A cold, detached voice resonated from the crystal.
"Well done, Vler." A pause. "There are no variables, I trust?"
"None, Your Highness. Everything is proceeding exactly as you willed it."
"Good." The voice was calm, but the weight behind it was unmistakable. "I have high expectations for you, Vler. Do not disappoint me."
The crystal pulsed once, then, without warning, dropped from the air. Vler caught it effortlessly, tucking it back into his cloak.
"I will not disappoint you, my Prince."
As the last syllable left his lips, his body flickered—then vanished in an instant. A gust of wind rushed through the chamber in his wake, stirring the dust that had settled on the stone floor. The torches flickered violently before settling back into a steady glow. The once-filled hall now stood empty, swallowed by silence.
And in the depths of the tunnels, unseen by the world above, the fate of Blackmere had already been decided.
Meanwhile, above the unseen depths where fate had already been sealed, life in Blackmere carried on as usual.
Vani stepped out of the clothing store, the scent of fabric and polished wood still lingering in the air. The streets, now bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun, bustled with movement—merchants calling out, children weaving through the crowds, and the rhythmic clatter of hooves on cobblestone filling the air. Beside him, Tessa adjusted the bag slung over her shoulder, her gaze flitting toward the distant rooftops as if searching for something.
Beatrice followed behind them, her usual composed expression unchanged.
"That took longer than expected," she muttered, glancing at the thinning clouds above.
Vani exhaled, running a hand through his hair as his eyes swept over the streets. Despite the city's liveliness, an odd weight settled in his chest—something unspoken, something unseen, tugging at the edges of his thoughts.
"It took a lot because the two of you couldn't decide what to buy," Vani said, his voice tinged with a trace of amusement.
Beatrice, still a little taken aback, blinked in surprise. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect that Sir Vani would buy me new clothes."
"That was my payment to you for helping me pick a sword and clothes," Vani explained, his gaze briefly meeting hers.
Beatrice's eyes sparkled with a mix of gratitude and disbelief. But when Vani's gaze shifted to Tessa, he found her still absorbed in admiring the dress she had bought, her expression distant.
Vani sighed, the weight in his chest not quite lifting. "Let's go eat something."
Beatrice nodded in approval, her enthusiasm returning, but Tessa remained fixated on her dress, almost lost in thought.
"Tessa," Vani called out, his tone more insistent.
"Y-yes?" Tessa snapped out of her thoughts, blinking as if waking from a daydream.
"Let's go eat something," Vani repeated, his voice firm but kind.
Tessa didn't seem particularly interested. "I'll go back to the mansion," she said softly, her eyes not meeting his.
"Are you sure?" Vani asked, his brow furrowing slightly.
Tessa nodded, adjusting her bag over her shoulder. "Thank you for buying me this dress. I'll pay you back for it one day."
(You had money to buy it yourself, why did you gamble so much?)
The thought lingered in Vani's mind, but he kept it to himself.
With that, the three of them parted ways. Beatrice eagerly followed Vani through the winding streets, their footsteps merging with the low hum of the city, while Tessa turned to make her way back to the mansion. The lanterns lining the streets flickered, casting warm, golden pools of light onto the cobblestones, contrasting with the growing shadows that stretched long as the sun dipped lower. The evening air, now tinged with the scent of freshly baked bread and roasting meat from nearby stalls, grew colder with the descent of night. The city, though still alive with its nightly rhythms, seemed to slow, as if awaiting something. The distant sounds of laughter and chatter faded, leaving only the occasional clink of coins or the soft creak of wooden carts as the last remnants of daylight gave way to the quiet, cool embrace of the night.