Chapter 22 - Schemes.....
The wind howled across the edge of the cliff, tearing through the thick forest below. There was a sea of dark pines that went out into the fog. A man of substantial stature stood at the edge. He wore a black cloak, and the fabric around him was snapping against the wind.
He over the horizon with sharp, unreadable eyes. There were jagged peaks and a dull red sky that was bleeding into dusk.
The air smelled of damp earth and pine, heavy with the weight of something looming. He didn't turn as the crunch of boots approached, steady but cautious, cutting through the wind's wail.
Saya stopped a few paces behind, her beastly tail; a thick, furred coil—flicking once before stilling. Her ears, pointed and tufted, twitched at the forest's rustle, and her clawed hands flexed at her sides.
"Mytheris is lost," she said, voice low. "Just as you predicted. Their forces overwhelmed us—our lines broke, and the survivors barely crawled back."
Maltheris didn't move, his back still to her, the wind tugging at his cloak. "Any sign of the Hero?" he asked, his tone flat, almost bored, but there was a thread of something sharper beneath it.
Saya shifted, claws tapping her thigh. "No one like that. No grand figure swinging a sword or hurling magic. Just their usual rabble—stronger than expected, but no Hero."
He sighed, a slow exhale that curled into the air, and tilted his head slightly. "So they put him to use in the battle."
"Seems so," Saya replied, frowning. She stepped closer, her boots scuffing the rocky edge. "But... maybe the rumors are bullshit. A summoned Hero? Could be a bluff to rattle you. If they had one, why not use him against us? No reason to hide him unless he's weak—or doesn't exist."
Maltheris chuckled, a low, dry sound that rolled off the cliff like a stone. "King Altheron might look like some doddering old fool, but he's no amateur. I've crossed him before—years back, when I was greener. It wasn't a stroll through the woods." He turned his head just enough for her to catch the glint in his eye. "He's a strategist, Saya. He knows I'd be sniffing for this Hero, testing the waters. That's why he kept him out—baiting me to wonder, to doubt. Clever bastard."
Saya's tail flicked again, her lips curling into a half-snarl. "So he's playing games then. Fine."
Maltheris turned fully now, facing her, his cloak settling as the wind died for a breath.
His face was a masterpiece of rugged perfection; a sharp jawline shadowed with a stubble that begged to be touched, high cheekbones catching the dying light like they'd been sculpted by a lustful god. A single, jagged scar slashed down his left brow, stopping just shy of a piercing gray eye. His dark hair fell in loose, tousled waves, brushing the collar of his cloak—wild, untamed. Broad-shouldered, lean but muscled, He stood with the ease , every inch of him radiating a raw, easy effortless charisma —war-forged, undoubtedly, but bursting with the kind of dark appeal that could make knees weak and pulses race.
"Valthorne," he said, naming the capital city they'd targeted. "How'd it go?"
"Captured," she said, straightening, a spark of pride in her yellow eyes. "Borders secured, gates locked tight. The citizens don't even know they're ours yet—still milling about, haggling over bread, clueless. We slipped in quiet, cut the right throats, and took it before dawn."
"Good," Maltheris replied, nodding once, his smirk fading into something colder. "Verdania's capital is a solid base. We'll operate from there—regroup, rearm, keep them guessing. I wonder how long it'll take Altheron to notice that one of his precious cities has gone dark." He paced a step, boots grinding the earth beneath him, then stopped, staring into the forest like it held answers. "He'll figure it eventually—too smart not to—but by then, we'll be dug in."
Saya watched him, her tail stilling, ears perked. "You're not coming with me?"
"Not yet," he said, his voice dropping, a shadow crossing his face. "I've got business to handle. Loose ends, old debts—nothing you need to fuss over."
She tilted her head, claws flexing again. "Anything I can do? Scout, kill, whatever—I'm at your disposal."
He waved a hand, dismissive but not harsh. "Don't worry yourself, Saya. You've got enough on your plate. Keep Valthorne under control—tighten the grip, squash any whispers. I'll join you when I'm done." His eyes flicked to hers, holding them a beat—firm, final—then he turned back to the cliff, the wind kicking up again.
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She bowed, slight but sharp, her tail curling low. "As you command." When she straightened, he was gone—vanished into the air, no sound, no trace, just the empty cliff and the rustling trees. Saya stood there, blinking at the spot he'd been, then snorted, a rough laugh escaping. "Slippery as an eel," she muttered, crossing her arms. Her gaze drifted to the horizon, the dull red sky fading to black. "A Hero, huh..."
She paced to the edge, peering down at the forest's dark sprawl, her tail swaying slow. "Can't wait to see what he's like—if he's real. Some shiny knight? A muscle-bound fool?" Her claws tapped her arm, a smirk tugging her lips. "Or maybe he's just a lucky prick Altheron's hiding. Either way, I'll sniff him out. Rip him apart, if I get the chance." She chuckled, low and feral, the sound swallowed by the wind as she turned, boots crunching back toward the trees. Maltheris could play his games—she'd play hers.
The forest loomed, shadows shifting, and she vanished into it, a predator on the move. Valthorne was hers to hold, but the Hero—real or not—itched at her mind. Maltheris might dodge and scheme, but she'd be ready when the time came. A fight was brewing, and she'd be damned if she missed it.