The allure did not arrive with celebration. In the stillness of night seven days afterward.
Cassiathon sat in his chamber examining reconnaissance reports on allied settlements when the shadows at the room's edge grew darker. Not with the expansiveness of Nyx but, with a more recognizable refined threat.
Valentina Rhodes emerged from the shadows by herself. She was dressed in dark travel attire and had no apparent weapons.
"Before summoning the Reaper " she said serenely raising a hand "I come under a banner of truce.. Without escort. A danger, for me I guarantee."
Cassiathon stayed in his seat his strength tensed but unspent. "Why?"
"The Queen was genuinely impressed. Truly. The resonant capacitor represented an application of philosophy. It showcased a degree of adaptability she finds… irresistible." Valentina advanced cautiously. "She is no longer extending an invitation to stand by her side. Instead she is proposing a collaboration. A joint endeavor."
"I've observed her work. They conclude as grinning figures."
"Not this particular one." Valentina's gaze sparkled. "You are aware of the Primordial, Nyx. She observes you. She embodies a passive watchfulness.. Imagine if observation might be… directed? What if the tales whispered in the shadows could be molded?"
A chilling fear gripped Cassiathon's stomach. "What do you mean?"
The Queen thinks that given your essence—the blend of conclusion and disorder—and her own undying nature the two of you might in unison accomplish a significant feat. Not to defeat Nyx.. To… cooperate with her. To be the creators of the story of existence. To steer the darkness toward shaping a fresh, steady and indeed carefully designed universe. One absent of agony, without the relentless harsh cycle of life and death governed by your father.
His ambition was on such a level it made his mind whirl. It wasn't about dominating the world. Instead it involved altering the narrative's rules from within alongside a Primordial, as a collaborator.
"She's furious " Cassiathon murmured.
"Is that so?. Might she be the sole person viewing matters on the proper level?" Valentina replied. "Your father upholds a pattern. Nyx serves as the backdrop. The Queen aims to craft an enduring work of art.. She thinks you are the vital brushstroke." She set a black crystal on his desk. "This acts as a channel. A connection, to a location where you can convene, securely to talk over the… nuances of the plan. No soldiers. No captives. Simply two distinct souls talking about what lies for everything. She requests a dialogue. Nothing more."
Valentina retreated into the darkness. "Consider this Cassiathon. You may devote your existence to protecting faint flickering flames in a unwinnable battle.. You could contribute to creating the sun that renders the conflict unnecessary. The decision remains, as always yours to make."
She had left.
Cassiathon gazed at the crystal. It emitted a alluring vibration. It posed no danger. It was a call, to divinity. To a tranquility that was not stillness, but ultimate inventive harmony.
It was the proposal he had ever encountered. Because a portion of him—the part, the part that witnessed relentless pain the part born from disorder and yearning for closure—wished to listen to her.
He picked up the crystal. It was warm.