At the break of dawn, two men worked in silence in a side corridor of the vast royal palace. Dark circles sagged beneath their eyes.
One, with a slender body and ragged clothes, was on his knees, wiping the cold marble floor with a worn-out mop.
The other, younger, was absorbed in cleaning a tall window overlooking the palace courtyard.
The kneeling man sighed wearily, pausing his mopping for a moment to stare at his faint reflection on the gleaming marble.
He said in a low voice,
"How ironic... We bust our asses keeping this place from falling apart, and our reward is the crumbs they leave behind. Tsk... Talk about fair."
His colleague stopped wiping the window for a moment, giving him a cold, unsympathetic look before returning to clean the glass without a single word.
The other man's knuckles whitened around the mop handle.
"You... bootlicking slave!... Are you deaf?"
The younger finally replied in a firm tone, moving to another window as his squeegee screeched against the glass.
"Shut up and Save your little revolution for later."
The first man fell silent for a few moments. He then crawled over, still wiping the floor, until he reached the window his colleague was cleaning.
He looked through it toward the horizon where the cityscape of Azgaron rose, and began to mutter with resentment.
"Dammit, his whole city's been drowning in chaos for a year… Aren't you afraid getting swallowed by Vandrwayn? I… I don't wanna end up like the others."
The younger man looked at his own reflection in the glass, then wiped it forcefully as if trying to erase his youthful face.
"Vandrwayn, you said?... What a name, but... Maybe you should be more afraid of me."
The older man stopped his work and replied coldly,
"What's that supposed to mean?"
The younger man turned to him for the first time, his eyes narrowing.
"I mean, if it were up to me, I'd throw you out of this window and feed your chattering tongue to the rats of Azgaron."
The kneeling man rose heavily on his feet, his eyes blazing and grabbed a rusty screwdriver from a nearby cleaning toolkit, gripping it tightly, his gaze turning cold.
"You bastard…," he said, his voice shaky and hoarse.
"I have a little girl I'm afraid of losing!… But you...
lucky son of a bitch... you've got nothing to lose…
Not even if I plunged this screwdriver into your fucking heart right now!"
A moment of silence fell. The man's ragged breathing calmed, and he slowly loosened his grip on the screwdriver, throwing it back in the box. He knelt again, re-wetting his mop in the bucket of water.
He wrung it out with his grimy hands, until the skin on his hands began to peel.
"Damn it... I can barely feed my little Tina…
I keep hoping all this chaos will shake something loose for people like us…
but who am I kidding? It's just making things worse."
His colleague remained completely silent. The man stared at his distorted reflection on the wet floor and said sarcastically,
"Now I regret not tearing out your lung with that screwdriver. Don't you have anything to say, for fuck's sake?"
He lifted his head to look at his colleague, but there was only a dirty, frayed mop lying on the floor next to the window. His eyes widened for a moment, and a look of confusion and tension crossed his face.
"Huh?" He scrambled back, staring at the spot where the man had been. A cold dread crept up his spine. "Was I... talking to myself?"
He shook his head violently and went back to mopping, but a faint tremor still ran through his hands.
******************
One Year Earlier
Florin's Tavern - City of Valdar - Kingdom of Thrandel - Year 984
Florin's Tavern in Valdar roared with life that night. Thick pipe smoke mixed with the smells of sweat and cheap liquor. Shouts and rough laughter mingled with the rattle of dice on dirty wooden tables.
In a corner near the door, six people sat around a misshapen table.
Unlike the buzzing tavern, the group in the corner was an island of silence. They sat with sunken eyes, their movements slow and heavy with exhaustion.
The silence at their table was broken by a tall woman with faded red hair. Clamping a hand over her mouth, Moriana Rosenight's bronze eyes narrowed.
"Two days," she snapped, her voice muffled.
"Two days for a handful of damn weird black pieces, and you've lost'em all but one?" She gagged, her face turning pale and turned her gaze aside.
"Yuli, please… I can't stand this place anymore. The smell of liquor and sweat is making me sick."
The large figure next to her replied, rattling the dice in a clawed hand. It was Hyran, a hyena in the shape of a man.
He rested his cheek on his knuckles, his body covered in thick gray fur and his jaw wide and dangerous. A hoarse, sarcastic voice escaped him, his golden eyes gleaming.
"Hey! pull your shit together… Do you think this place would smell better if you threw up on the floor?"
He leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head.
"But I'll give you this. Valdar is really full of idiots."
Another young man casually propped a boot on the table. Zarius Kallistar had short black hair streaked with white and skin marked by vitiligo. His eyes were two different colors—one red, the other purple—and his fine clothes seemed out of place in the grimy tavern.
He laughed, examining his vitiligo on his left hand with a bored air.
"Honestly... nothing compares to your stench, you filthy beast."
He took his foot off the table and slowly scratched his head, adding:
"Hate to say it, but this whole situation is a mess."
Framed by short black hair, the petite girl next to him —Yulia Lomisia—gave him a sharp side-eye.
"I expected you to say that a while ago. looks like the women of Valdar aren't good enough."
Zarius put his fist on the table, but before he could reply, another girl intervened. Vida Stonmer's quiet voice was a contrast to her athletic build. Wavy black hair fell around a cute freckled face as she gathered the discarded stones.
"That's harsh, Yul. You know Zarius isn't that kind of guy."
The final man at the table, Gord Linholm, had been silent until now. Old scars marked his skin, and his lean, tough body was perfectly still. His eyes were fixed on Moriana as he spoke, his voice calm and steady.
"Wherever the Princess goes, I go. You should all know that."
Suddenly, Hyran slammed the dice down in front of Gord. "My win!" he shouted, his voice a loud, hoarse bark.
But as Hyran gathered the stones from the table, no one else said a single word.
A moment of silence fell. Zarius was shaking the nearly empty bottle in front of him. He put the bottle on the table and took some coins from his pocket.
He spoke to Vida beside him with a sly smile, putting some coins on her plam under the table.
"Vida... bring me another bottle? This one's almost finished."
Yulia sighed, trying to stop him.
"Hey! half-breed, Stop wasting Crons on drinking yourself to death."
Then she turned to Vida.
"Vida... there's something I wanna tell you. Get closer."
Vida hesitated, her gaze flicking between Yulia and Zarius.
"Yul, I'll be back in a second. is that okay?"
In silence, they stared into each other's eyes for a tense moment, then Vida stood up quietly and headed for the crowded bar.
Zarius smiled victoriously and winked at Yulia.
"You get what you deserve, you little brat... Vida would never put anyone over me."
But Yulia's attention was fixed on the small piece she held between her thin fingers. It was a hexagonal, jagged piece made of a strange, smooth material. With a final, quiet sigh, she carefully tucked the piece into a hidden pocket in her long tunic and pulled out a small book.
At that moment, Moriana jumped up from her chair, both hands over her mouth.
"Goddammit."
She rushed to the bathroom behind the bartender's table. As soon as Moriana left, Hyran turned to Yulia and said mockingly, shaking his head,
"Obsessed with that little black junk, Yulia? Funny, coming from the one who fumbled the rest away."
Zarius replied with a sarcastic smile, raising his empty bottle. "Lay off her, you filthy beast. She just got her ass handed to her... Who knows, maybe her little mind will actually find something to shake things up in the world."
Yulia remained silent but Zarius gave her a gaze and added:
"Hey, Yulia! Stop reading in a place like this! You're drawing attention, reading in a tavern full of drunks."
Yulia turned a page in her book without even looking up.
Hyran then looked over at Gord, finding him staring down the hallway, and said to him sarcastically,
"Hey, little guy... If you're thinking of using that place, I wouldn't recommend it."
Hyran glanced at Gord, who was staring down the hallway, and said with a crooked grin,"Hey, dwarf... if you're thinking of using that bathroom, I wouldn't recommend it."
Zarius caught the grin and studied Hyran for a beat. His brow rose in sudden understanding."You didn't—" he started, then barked a laugh.
Hyran leaned back, smirking.
"Hell I did."
That set Zarius off completely—he slapped the table, nearly spilling his drink, while Hyran wheezed with laughter, proud of his own crime.
on the other side, Vida reaches and paid the bartender and took the bottle. As she turned, her eyes met those of a large man sitting to her right.
He didn't just look at her; he seemed to weigh and measure her, his stare lingering in a way that made her skin crawl. His voice was a low rumble, seeming to vibrate through the floorboards.
"Hey, woman... I know that shape... You're from Mornaveil, right?"
The name hit her like a physical blow. Vida froze, dread widening her eyes.