The heavy oak doors of the Lord's manor creaked open, welcoming Vaelorian, Sir Eryndor, and Barron, in his human form into a world of oppressive silence. It was a stark contrast to the lively manor Vaelorian had expected. A nervous energy hummed in the air, a silent alarm that had already been tripped.
Vaelorian's guards had already secured the perimeter, their steel armor a chilling sight as they moved through the halls, rounding up servants, guests and every person associated with the household.
"Where is he?" Barron whispered in confusion, his eyes darted around, searching for any sign of his best friend.
Vaelorian strode into the opulent foyer, his voice so loud and commanding it seemed to shake the very foundations of the building.
"Where is the Lord of this Manor?" Vaelorian demanded, his gaze sweeping over the terrified faces of the household staff.
Nobody moved or answered. Then, a young man, barely more than a boy, stepped forward. His eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and relief. He wrung his hands, his gaze flickering to Barron
"My lords…he's gone," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper. "He left this morning."
"Where did he go?" Vaelorian demanded.
"On a business trip, he said... he left early, with a servant."
Vaelorian's brow furrowed.
"This servant... was he a young man with long black hair and a mischievous glint in his eyes?"
The servant nodded, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. "Yes, my lord. That was the young master. I... I helped him, I think. My sister was taken too. He promised he would bring her back." The boy's voice cracked with emotion, and he looked at the ground, tears welling in his eyes.
Vaelorian's face softened for a moment, his anger momentarily forgotten. He turned to Sir Eryndor.
"Secure the manor. Arrest everyone who aided the Lord and the human traffickers. "Barron—prepare to move. I think I know where they're headed." Vaelorian said.
Riven, that clever, resourceful boy had been undercover for months. Bending everyone to his will. If he was with the Lord, it means he has already figured out who the mastermind behind the missing people is, which could put him in serious danger—or worse.
Before leaving Vaelorian turned his attention to the patron of the manor, a man with a bloated face and a look of defiance, who was being held by two guards.
"You aided your master in the trafficking of human beings. Fellow human beings like you. Do you understand what you've done?"
The patron's voice trembled. "I was just… just doing my job. I didn't know—"
Vaelorian cut him off with a glare. "Ignorance is no excuse. "Citizens like you are a disappointment to the empire," Vaelorian said, his voice cold and sharp as a razor.
The patron of the manor straightened his back "You have to understand, I have families to feed."
Vaelorian's gaze hardened. "Your family's comfort does not justify the suffering of others. The Empire does not tolerate cowards. Everyone involved will answer for their crimes." He turned his back on the man and began to walk away, his mind already working on how to get to Riven.
As Vaelorian walked away, the young servant, who had helped Riven, took a step closer to Barron. "Excuse me, sir," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Who... who's that young master? And why is he looking for master Reven?"
Barron's expression was full of pride as he leaned in, his voice a low, confidential rumble. "That young master is the Crown Prince of this Empire," he replied, his voice just as hushed. "And Reven, the young man you helped is his favorite person on earth. The prince would burn the world down for him, and I'm not entirely convinced Reven wouldn't help."
The servant's eyes went wide. "Oh, shit!" he whispered, his face paled as he took a step back, the full weight of Barron's words sinking in. He now understands why Reven was so certain he would rescue the missing persons.
Meanwhile, at a secluded cove in Emberwick, the air was thick with the scent of salt and fear. Riven was already in action. The moment he and the Lord arrived in Emberwick, he compelled the older man to forget about him. And then, he secretly followed him to the meeting point. A barren stretch of beach where a ship was being loaded with its human cargo. Hiding in the shadows of the rocks, he watched as the Lord discussed the exchange with a group of shady-looking men.
Riven's eyes glowed with a cold, terrifying light as he listened, hiding just out of sight. They were negotiating a shipment of kidnapped victims like it was nothing. His heart burned with fury. People's lives had been reduced to mere commodities, and they're just here...benefiting from it?
He'd heard enough, seen enough. It's time for action and someone needs to pay. Riven closed his eyes in order to concentrate. With a simple wordless command, he whispered into the minds of the guards, willing them to turn their weapons on each other, leaving the kidnapped victims behind and unharmed.
In a blink of an eye the meeting point became a bloodbath. Shots rang out, and the men fell one by one, their bodies crumpling in the sand. Shots went on for a while and the chaos was reaching its peak. Riven, stood aside, watching the carnage, he had pushed every armed man to their breaking point. His mind control gift was strong, his hold on them unyielding.
One by one, the remaining survivors crumbled under his mental pressure, revealing the dark truth behind the trafficking ring. He smiled, a dark, dangerous smile, at the name he was given. The person who thought it was a good idea to sell other humans for his own selfish benefits, to gather wealth. Oh, how he was going to have a field day with him.
Riven took in shaky breaths, his heart pounding with adrenaline. His mission had been dangerous, but he had succeeded—discovering the mastermind and dismantling a major part of the trafficking network. The weight of his actions pressed on him, knowing that many victims might still be saved because of what he'd done.
Just as Riven was finishing his interrogation and rounding up the kidnapped victims amidst the bloody mess, Vaelorian, Sir Eryndor, and Barron teleported to him.
"Riven? Oh, thank the elders!" Vaelorian called out. Rushing towards the younger boy, his eyes taking in the scene: the scattered bodies, the terrified victims, and the blood on Riven's hands. But all he cared about was Riven, safe and sound.
Riven turned, a smug smile on his face. "Oh, hey, babe!" he said casually, as if he hadn't just orchestrated a massacre.
"Don't you dare 'hey babe' me!" Vaelorian scolded, his voice thick with emotion as he enveloped the younger boy in a tight hug, not minding the messy state he was in. He buried his face in Riven's hair, taking in the scent of him, the scent of fresh air and blood. "Never again!" Vaelorian whispered, "Whatever fresh hell you're planning to jump into now or in the future, we're going together, you hear me?"
Riven's smile softened, and he hugged Vaelorian back, burying his face in his shoulder.
"Oh, I have so much to tell you."