The standoff at the entrance to the Eastern District stretched through the afternoon, a silent contest of wills under the blistering sun. The City Watch, in their polished but impractical armor, shifted uncomfortably under the unwavering gaze of Common's Storm Brigade. The mercenaries didn't need to posture; their very stillness was a threat.
Inside his manse, Ivika's initial cold fury had boiled over into a raging inferno. The reports were no longer just about rumors; they were about open defiance. A direct challenge to his authority, laid bare for the entire city to see.
"He blocks my own watch?" Ivika seethed, pacing his solar like a caged lion. The servant who had delivered the news still trembled by the door. "He dares to carve out his own kingdom within my city? This is not ambition; it is rebellion!"
His advisors stood in nervous silence. One, bolder than the rest, ventured, "Perhaps, my lord, a diplomatic solution… a meeting…"
"I do not meet with traitors!" Ivika snarled, cutting him off. "I make examples of them." His mind raced, calculating the forces at his disposal. The City Watch was a policing force, not an army. To assault the Eastern District would be a bloodbath, one he was not sure he could win, and even if he did, the cost in legitimacy and lives would be catastrophic. Common had backed him into a corner with brilliant, brutal efficiency.
As dusk began to settle, painting the sky in shades of violet and orange, Ivika could bear the inaction no longer. "My cloak and my guard," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "We will see this rebellion for ourselves."
Word of the Governor's approach flew ahead of him. By the time Ivika and his retinue arrived at the district entrance, a crowd had begun to gather, sensing the historical weight of the moment. Torches were lit, their flickering light dancing on determined faces and naked steel.
The Storm Brigade parted, and Common emerged, not in armor, but in robes of fine silk, a picture of calm authority. To the crowd's surprise, he was not alone. On his arm was a woman of stunning, cold beauty, her hair a cascade of silver, her eyes a piercing violet. A murmur rippled through the onlookers. The Valyrian features were unmistakable. Serala Rogare's presence was a statement in itself: Common's alliances ran deep.
"Is Common preparing for rebellion?" Ivika's voice rang out, the accusation meant for the crowd as much as for his rival.
Common's laugh was light, devoid of fear. "Rebellion? My lineage is of Liss, Governor Ivika. My future wife's blood is intertwined with this city's history. How could I rebel against my own home?" He gestured around them. "This is not a rebellion. It is a neighborhood watch, born from the panic your administration has failed to quell."
Before Ivika could retort, movement caught his eye. Helier, with a confident smile, strode from the crowd and clasped Common's arm in a warm, public display of solidarity. The betrayal was a physical blow. Then, to Ivika's utter disbelief, Benick—his own son's rival—hesitated only a moment before stepping away from the governor's group and moving to stand near Common, a calculating look on his face.
Anders, ever the pragmatist, simply signaled his men to subtly withdraw, distancing himself from the sinking ship of Ivika's authority. In moments, the political landscape of Liss was redrawn there on the street. The factions were clear: Ivika stood alone with his loyalists, while Common stood flanked by powerful allies.
"I have heard of unrest," Common continued, his voice carrying easily in the sudden hush. "To protect my home, my future wife, and the city's future assets, I secured my district. My apologies if the precaution was… misinterpreted." He turned. "Captain Cain. Stand down the Brigade. The Governor wishes to pass; he may."
The order was given, and the Storm Brigade relaxed their formation, though their watchful eyes never left Ivika's men. The gesture was a magnanimous fiction, and everyone knew it. The permission to enter was an illusion; the power to grant it was the reality.
Ivika's face was a mask of controlled fury, his jaw so tight it ached. He was trapped. To press forward now would be to accept Common's condescending "permission." To withdraw was a public admission of defeat.
"The chaos in the city was sparked by unfounded lies," Ivika stated, his voice strained.
"And yet, the chaos was real," Common countered smoothly. "It is a pity my dragon is still young, and I hold no formal office. I could have done more to reassure the people."
As if on cue, a sharp, piercing cry split the air. A dark shape descended from the darkening sky, landing with a soft thud on a rooftop overlooking the scene. Igoras, having grown noticeably in just weeks, stretched his neck and let out a low, rumbling hiss, a wisp of black smoke curling from his nostrils. The crowd gasped and stepped back, their awe and fear a tangible force.
The young dragon's timing was impeccable. It was not an attack, but a demonstration. A reminder of the new power that had awakened in Liss, a power that the old governance could not control.
Ivika looked from Common's calm face, to Helier's defiant smirk, to the terrifying silhouette of the dragon. The scales had not just tipped; they had shattered. He had lost this battle without a single sword being drawn.
"This is not over," Ivika said, the words tasting like ash. He turned sharply, his cloak swirling around him. "We are done here."
He led his retinue away, the sound of their retreating footsteps echoing the retreat of his influence. The crowd, emboldened, began to chatter excitedly, their eyes fixed on Common and his dragon.
Common watched him go, then turned to Helier and Serala. "It seems the Governor finally understands the new reality."
Helier nodded, a grim satisfaction on his face. "He does. You have drawn a line in the street tonight, Common. And he was the one who was forced to cross to your side."
Above them, Igoras let out another soft hiss, as if in agreement. The night belonged to them.