The reddish light of the lanterns spread soft shadows across the heated room.
Clothes remained abandoned across the floor.
An empty bottle rested toppled beside the bed, while another still stood open on the small table.
The fireplace crackled slowly.
The sheets had already lost any trace of order.
Heavy breathing filled the room.
The young woman lifted a hand to Karna's head, letting her fingers slide through the rough texture of the white hair cut close to the scalp.
It was a simple cut.
Practical.
Her long white hair fell over her shoulders while her eyes traveled across Karna's face.
Karna followed the gesture with a faint smile.
Her fingers slowly descended along his neck until they reached his right shoulder, where the dark lines of the tattoo began to appear.
She traced the dragon engraved into his skin.
The detailed scales.
The curves of the serpentine body wrapped around his strong arm down to the forearm.
The design spread partially across his chest, as though the creature slept beneath his skin.
At last, her fingers left the ink and found the old scars scattered across his body.
She remained silent for a few seconds.
Observing those marks.
"It's strange."
Karna slightly raised his gaze.
"What?"
A small smile appeared on her lips.
"Your face is still young."
Her fingers lightly touched his cheek.
"But your eyes look like the eyes of someone who has already lost too much."
For an instant, Karna's smile remained.
But it did not reach his eyes.
"I think that happens when you learn early that some people always leave."
The young woman, still over him, straightened slightly to look at him better.
"It's hard to believe that someone who turned eighteen—"
"—two months ago talks like that."
Karna's fingers found hers for a moment, intertwining in a simple gesture before silence once again dominated the room.
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
He slowly leaned closer.
But before he could close the distance between them, something changed.
A slight distortion crossed his perception.
For an instant, the world seemed to fracture.
His eyes narrowed.
The woman's eyes turned purple.
The smile disappeared.
Karna remained motionless for a brief second.
Then he slowly raised a hand, passing his fingers before her face.
No reaction.
Not even a blink.
Not even the slightest movement.
As though she were only an image waiting to be undone.
Karna's eyes turned cold.
Without any hesitation, he grabbed her by the shoulders and carefully laid her down on the bed.
He stepped away.
Reached the clothes scattered near the bed.
Put on only what was necessary.
Cast one final glance at her.
Then walked toward the door.
Opened it and left the room.
The second-floor corridor remained lit by the warm glow of lanterns spread along the walls.
Half-open doors revealed fragments of the night.
A man holding a woman's hand before entering a room.
A servant carrying a tray.
Two customers arguing beside one of the inner balconies.
Everything remained exactly where it should be.
But nothing moved.
Karna walked without changing pace.
Passed them until he reached the edge of the corridor overlooking the main hall.
His hands rested against the dark wooden railing.
His eyes swept across the first floor.
Occupied tables.
Cards scattered across surfaces.
Mugs raised.
Conversations interrupted in the middle of a gesture.
The entire hall remained frozen.
His eyes found two figures standing at the center of the Golden Rose.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
He leaned part of his weight against the railing.
"Éreon."
Éreon's purple eyes lifted.
Meeting Karna's light brown gaze.
"I'd even offer you a drink."
A brief pause.
"Unfortunately, business died a few minutes ago."
Éreon observed the hall for a moment.
"Nearly three months ago, you decided to come North."
His eyes returned to Karna.
"We've been settled here for two months."
His voice remained calm.
Without judgment.
Only observation.
"During that time, I asked nothing of you."
A brief pause.
"I considered it necessary."
"Since you refused to accept a decision that wasn't yours."
The faint smile returned.
Small.
Almost imperceptible.
"But luxuries tend to have their limits."
"And yours just ended."
Karna let out a short laugh.
"Funny hearing that..."
His eyes remained on Éreon.
"When it was you who suggested Brianna go to the Central Kingdom."
The silence lasted only an instant.
No explanation came.
No defense.
Éreon simply looked at him.
"Five minutes."
Karna raised an eyebrow.
"Five minutes?"
"The amount of time you have to put on something appropriate and come downstairs."
Éreon's expression did not change.
"Consider this the polite version of the invitation."
Karna's smile widened.
"And the impolite version?"
"You'll find out when the sixth minute arrives."
Karna held Éreon's gaze for a few seconds.
The smile still remained there.
Small.
Amused.
Like someone who already knew the outcome of that discussion.
Then he shook his head.
"Still unbearable."
He turned around.
And began walking back through the corridor.
Disappearing among the lanterns of the second floor.
For a few moments, Éon merely watched the direction he had gone.
"In that much of a hurry?"
Éreon did not answer immediately.
His violet eyes remained raised toward the second floor.
"We no longer have time to waste."
His gaze slowly shifted away.
"The queen will return soon."
Éon's expression did not change.
But he kept listening.
"When she passes through the gates..."
"Every movement inside this kingdom will pass through her knowledge."
Éreon's eyes turned toward him.
"If there is truth in Silvanis' information..."
A brief pause.
"Or in Brianna's records..."
The violet eyes turned colder.
"We'll have our answer tonight."
Footsteps echoed from the second floor.
Karna reappeared at the top of the staircase.
The dark cloak concealed most of the clothes he had thrown on in haste.
Even so, the relaxed posture remained the same.
He descended the steps without hurry.
His eyes quickly passed across the frozen hall.
Over Éreon.
Over Éon.
"I hope this is worth it."
"You'll find out soon enough," Éreon answered.
Karna sighed.
"Always so enlightening."
No answer came.
Éreon raised his hands.
His eyes glowed.
Purple filaments of energy emerged between his fingers.
Slowly coiling around his palm.
The threads rippled in silence, as though responding only to his will.
The violet eyes swept across the hall a single time.
"Forget."
The word passed through the hall like a whisper.
The filaments unraveled into the air.
Silently slithering through the hall.
They touched the forehead of every man and woman frozen in place.
Slid through their thoughts like invisible threads.
Éreon lowered his hands.
And the filaments vanished.
"Let's go."
Without waiting for an answer, he turned toward the exit.
Éon followed immediately.
Karna cast one last glance toward the interior of the Golden Rose.
"I feel like I'm going to regret this."
Then he pulled the hood over his head and followed them.
For a brief instant, the hall remained motionless.
Then a card fell onto a table.
Someone finished a laugh that had been interrupted.
A mug began moving again.
And the Golden Rose continued on as though nothing had happened.
The streets of the lower levels remained busy despite the late hour.
Drunks crossed narrow alleys.
Golden light spilled from the windows of taverns and inns still open.
The three moved forward without drawing attention.
Hoods raised.
Dark cloaks hiding their faces.
Karna walked a few steps behind.
Observing the movement around them.
"So?"
No one answered.
Karna sighed.
"I thought after two months I would've learned by now."
His eyes slid toward Éreon.
"But apparently I still have to guess where we're going."
"You don't."
Éreon's answer came simply.
Karna raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
"We're going to the temple."
Karna remained silent for a few moments.
"That answer was almost generous."
Éreon did not even take his eyes off the street ahead.
The group kept moving forward.
Little by little the streets became wider.
The buildings more orderly.
The taverns and brothels gave way to older stone structures.
Monuments.
Squares.
Small shrines scattered along the avenues.
The presence of religion became increasingly evident the closer they came to the central districts.
The distant sound of bells echoed across the city.
Once.
Then again.
Karna lifted his eyes.
Between the rooftops and towers of the capital, the silhouette of the temple finally emerged.
Imposing.
Dominating part of the night horizon.
Karna's eyes remained on the structure for a few seconds.
"I hope this is important."
Éreon kept walking.
"It is."
The answer ended the conversation.
And no one spoke again.
The temple rose above the square like a fortress of pale stone.
Wide staircases led to the great reinforced wooden doors.
Torches burned beside the entrance columns.
Two knights stood guard.
One of them lifted his head upon noticing their approach.
"The temple is closed."
The three kept walking.
The man frowned.
"Return tomorrow."
Éreon did not slow his pace.
Nor did he answer.
For an instant, only the sound of footsteps echoed across the staircase.
The violet eyes met the knight's.
The man froze.
The words died before reaching his lips.
"Éon."
Éreon's voice was calm.
Almost indifferent.
The next instant, Éon moved.
The knights did not even have time to react.
There was no scream.
No clash of steel.
Only a dark blur cutting through the space between them.
A cold flash sliced through the night.
The first body collapsed.
The second fell immediately after.
The swords still remained partially sheathed.
Blood slowly streamed down the stone steps.
Éon was already several steps ahead.
The katana returned to its sheath.
Éreon passed between the bodies.
Karna watched them for a brief moment.
"Direct as always."
Éreon did not even look at him.
"Witnesses tend to create inconveniences."
Karna let out a brief laugh.
"I'll pretend that was a lesson in strategy."
"Do as you prefer."
No answer came.
The great temple doors stood before them.
Éreon stopped.
His eyes swept across the structure.
Then turned toward Karna.
"The temple shelters orphans."
His voice remained calm.
"Find them."
Karna raised an eyebrow.
"All of them?"
"Especially one."
A brief pause.
"Dark brown hair."
"Blue eyes."
"Bring her to me."
Karna remained silent for an instant.
"And where exactly am I supposed to find them?"
"Figure it out."
A sigh escaped his lips.
"Of course."
"It would be far too simple to receive a complete answer."
Éreon had already looked away.
Karna shook his head.
"One day I'm still going to convince you to speak like a normal person."
Without waiting for a response, he adjusted the cloak over his shoulders and followed along the side of the temple, disappearing into the shadows of the structure.
Éreon turned toward Éon.
"No one enters."
Éon nodded once.
It was enough.
Éreon's eyes lifted toward the massive wooden doors.
His hand rested against the reinforced surface.
And pushed.
The doors slowly opened.
The deep groan of wood echoed through the sanctuary's interior.
Candlelight spilled outward.
And Éreon crossed the threshold.
The vast hall stretched before him.
Tapestries embroidered with golden thread hung from polished stone walls.
Columns carved with ancient symbols supported the high ceiling.
Hundreds of candles spread warm light across immaculate marble.
Small fountains murmured between the side corridors.
The soft perfume of ornamental flowers mixed with the scent of incense.
At the center of the sanctuary, priests dressed in pale robes remained gathered before the main altar.
Above them, the archbishop conducted the chants of the ceremony.
His voice echoed through the hall.
Serene.
Ritualistic.
Sacred.
Then his eyes found Éreon.
The chant faltered.
A single note died before it could be completed.
Other priests lifted their heads.
Then another.
And another.
Silence spread through the temple like a crack running through glass.
The candles continued burning.
The fountains continued flowing.
But something had changed.
The very atmosphere seemed to recoil before Éreon.
The violet eyes swept across the hall.
Calm.
Indifferent.
The archbishop felt a shiver crawl down his spine.
Instinctively.
Without understanding why.
Éreon advanced without hurry.
Only the sound of his boots echoed across the polished marble.
The priests watched the dark-cloaked figure crossing the temple's central aisle.
"This is a sacred ritual!"
one of the priests exclaimed.
"No man has the right to interrupt the communion of the Children of Light!"
Éreon did not even slow down.
The violet eyes passed over the man for only an instant.
It was enough.
The priest's throat locked.
The words died before reaching his lips.
Silence settled once more.
"No man?" Éreon repeated.
The question came calmly.
Almost curious.
His eyes lifted toward the altar.
"How comforting."
A brief pause.
"It seems I'm not violating any rules."
The archbishop tightened his grip on the golden symbol hanging over his chest.
"Whoever you may be..."
A brief pause.
"This temple belongs to the Gods of Order."
The other priests seemed to recover part of their courage.
Hands closed around sacred symbols.
Some stepped forward.
The archbishop continued.
"They restored the world after the Great Ruin."
"They brought order where chaos existed."
"They returned purpose to humanity."
A brief pause.
His eyes remained fixed on Éreon.
"Therefore..."
"Show the respect owed to this sacred place."
Éreon listened to every word in absolute silence.
His eyes slowly drifted toward the great symbol above the altar.
The circular crown.
The twenty-four points representing the twenty-four empires.
The central gem shining beneath candlelight.
For a few seconds, he only observed.
"Fascinating."
The voice came low.
Almost a thought.
"It took only twelve years to turn conquerors into saviors."
One priest stepped forward.
Outrage overcame fear.
"Watch your words!"
The voice echoed through the temple.
"You stand before the symbol of those who—"
Éreon's eyes met his.
The sentence died.
"I know exactly what I stand before."
The tone remained calm.
"The difference... is that you do not know who stands before you."
Éreon stopped before the first rows of benches.
"I did not come here to debate faith."
His hand slid across the wooden backrest.
"Or to correct the history you chose to believe."
His fingers touched the wood like someone testing something ancient.
"Though I admit human creativity remains impressive."
The faint smile returned.
"Temples."
"Symbols."
"Chants."
"Prayers."
His eyes turned toward the archbishop.
"A remarkable speed for a species that..."
"Until not long ago, believed it governed its own destiny."
The archbishop remained firm.
"It does not matter who you once were."
The sentence made Éreon stop.
A small silence emerged.
For the first time, he seemed genuinely interested.
The archbishop continued:
"No man is above the Gods of Order."
Éreon's smile widened almost imperceptibly.
"That is the problem."
He partially turned his face.
The violet eyes glowed beneath the shadow of the hood.
"You keep insisting on calling me a man."
The archbishop lifted his chin.
"Then tell me..."
His voice still carried conviction.
"If you are not a man... what are you?"
Éreon's faint smile did not disappear.
"I am the one who asks questions..."
"Not the one who needs to answer them."
The violet eyes swept across the priests.
"I know this temple keeps a record."
"The Codex of the Fallen and Elevated."
The archbishop narrowed his eyes.
"That name..."
"Should not be known outside the high hierarchy of the Order."
A brief pause.
"Not even many priests know those records exist."
Éreon remained silent for a moment.
"Excellent."
The archbishop frowned.
"Excellent?"
"That means I won't waste time searching in the wrong place."
The answer came simply.
Almost politely.
"Hand over the Codex."
A brief pause.
"And I will leave this temple exactly as I found it."
The priests exchanged glances.
The archbishop stepped forward.
"These records belong to the temple."
"They cannot be handed over to an invader."
Éreon's smile widened slightly.
"Curious."
His eyes drifted once more toward the twenty-four-pointed crown above the altar.
"Your devotion seems greater than your loyalty to humanity itself."
The archbishop remained firm.
"We protect what was entrusted to us."
"Even if it costs our lives."
Éreon's gaze turned cold.
"I wonder..."
His voice became almost a whisper.
"How many of you will need to die before someone finally decides to speak."
Purple filaments began emerging between his fingers.
Extremely thin.
Like strands of light crossing through darkness.
They coiled around his hand like living creatures.
The candles around them flickered.
The flames danced irregularly.
A deep noise ran through the structure.
The stone columns trembled.
Small fragments of dust fell from the ceiling.
The marble beneath the priests' feet shook.
The faith in their eyes faltered.