Three days had passed since the Prince left.
The silence that followed felt heavier than his entourage.
Gone were the finely embroidered tents, the gleaming armored retinue, and the carefully measured words of diplomacy. What remained was ash. Ash, and the slow, methodical excavation of something buried far deeper than stone.
Lior stood once more at the edge of the crater where Larmod had once stood. The wind carried the faint stench of burnt wood, now mingling with the older scent of stale air rising from the cracked tiles beneath. The workers he'd quietly summoned—vagrants, mercenaries, men too desperate to ask questions—toiled in silence, breaking stone and dirt to widen the path into the ancient ruin.
A part of him wondered how long the Crown would wait. Another part dared it to try.
"My lord" said a voice behind him.
He turned. His steward, Marell, held out a sealed letter, bearing no crest but marked in imperial ink.
Lior opened it slowly, eyes scanning the parchment. No signature, just a phrase written in a dialect older than Aurelia itself:
"The roots remember when the branches forget. Hold, and we shall speak."
A contact. The first since the system notified him of a change in Faction Standing. The restorationists. Whoever they truly were, they'd taken notice.
[System Notification]
New Quest Available: "Watchers Beneath the Stone"
Objective: Uncover the purpose of the ruins without royal interference. Make contact with the faction known as "The Silent Reclaimers."
Reward: +30 FP, Unknown Artifact, and Favor with Reclaimer Faction
Failure Penalty: Royal Seizure of Site, -3 Reputation (Defiant), Possibility of Trial
He swiped the message away with a breathless grin. "So be it."
The first relic emerged at dawn.
One of the mercenaries unearthed it half-buried under layers of shattered marble: a narrow golden circlet, not a crown, but imperial make, undoubtedly. And intact.
[System Notification]
Item Acquired: Circlet of the Eclipsed Dawn
Relic of the Order of Dual Dawn. Contains a trace of spiritual authority. When worn, may influence those of Imperial descent or devout roots.
Marell stared at it with wide eyes. "Should I contact the temple or the royal family, my Lord?"
"No. It belongs to whoever bleeds for it" Lior muttered.
More followed: mosaics that told fractured tales of gods dying and being reborn, scripts of a language only half-translated by modern scholars, broken weapons still humming with dormant magic.
Each piece pulled him deeper into the place. But not just him.
Each night, the system stirred.
[Passive Skill Activated: "Lingering Authority"]
Your reputation among secret factions has increased. New visitors will arrive soon. Be prepared.
And arrive they did.
By the seventh night, a figure stepped into the dig site.
No banner. No escort. Only a cloak of dark green, embroidered with ancient gold stitching.
Lior met him in silence.
"We heard you chose past over obedience" the man said.
Lior said nothing.
"Even under watch. You keep digging the past"
Lior nodded.
The figure reached into his sleeve and pulled out a scroll. No seal. No wax.
"We are the Silent Reclaimers. We remember what this Kingdom, and the rest, had tried to bury. You, Vardas, you have done what no royal dared. So we offer this."
He unrolled the scroll.
[System Notification]
Pact Offered: "Oath of Dust"
"Join the Reclaimers in their cause. Protect and learn from the ruins. You gain access to unique research paths, forbidden relics, and political leverage against the Crown.
In return, you must guard the site and delay royal access until the Pact is fulfilled."
Lior took the scroll. For a moment, the flickering torchlight caught his eyes.
Not mad.
Not a rebel.
A keeper of something older than kings.
And somewhere deep within, where the system could not reach, he felt it again:
That old desire.
Not to rule.
Not to kneel.
But to build something new.
A Kingdom without kings.
And this time, maybe he would not fail.
The Crown had not remained idle.
From a high ridge, Lior watched the distant flicker of a new encampment being raised, not by him, but by royal agents. Scouts, watchers, perhaps a few spies masquerading as pilgrims. Kaelen had made good on his promise, the Crown would be watching.
[System Notification]
Warning: Royal Surveillance Active
Progress on your site will be reported. Political decisions made here may influence broader standing. Caution is advised.
Lior sighed and turned his back to the horizon.
Inside the ruins, new chambers had begun to open. One, he suspected, was a crypt. Another, perhaps, a vault. The architecture was twisted, almost as if someone had buried not just stone, but a memory.
The Silent Reclaimers had returned twice more. Each time they offered knowledge. Not all of it useful, but enough to begin piecing together the site's true significance.
Apparently, the Order of the Dual Dawn had attempted to create an alternative governance structure during the twilight of the Imperium. An order of priest-states, guided not by kings, but by prophecy, relic-lore, and public consensus among the devout. It had failed, of course. Suppressed by both crown and rival clergy. But the vision had lingered.
It was eerily close to what Lior once dreamed of.
And so, he chose to wear the circlet.
Not as a symbol of power.
But as a promise.
"Let the Crown think me mad" he whispered. "I have burned villages, defied kings, and now consort with ghosts. But I remember what I wanted."
He walked the dim halls of the temple once again, torch in one hand, and in the other a vision.
A Kingdom without kings.
An order that could not be broken by bloodlines or greed.
And if the past had to burn again for that future to rise?
So be it.