On the upper floors of the palace, the suffocating silence of the Silver Heaven was broken not by metal striking crystal, but by the sound of pure rage.
When Velira entered the kitchen through its doors, the first scent that hit her nose was spilled spiced wine and crushed exotic fruit. But her eyes did not focus on the chaos on the floor. They searched for the one thing that should have been there, but was not.
"Where is he?" she asked.
Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it was enough to freeze the blood of every servant in the room.
The satyr servant cowering in the corner stepped forward, trembling.
"My Princess… there was an accident. That human… he was clumsy, and Lady Seraphina—"
Velira moved.
She was fast. So fast that the satyr did not even have time to think about running. Velira did not grab the creature by the throat, but by the horn, wrenching its head back.
"What did Seraphina do?" Velira asked. Her eyes burned with an icy blue flame.
"She… sent him down," the satyr whimpered."To the Deep Pit. For punishment."
Velira threw the satyr aside like trash and turned sharply, striding into the corridor. Her fury was so intense that silver vases cracked under invisible pressure as she passed, and the flames of the wall torches trembled.
At the end of the corridor, she came face to face with Seraphina.
The red-haired woman stood by the window, a goblet of blood wine in her hand, wearing that knowing smile.
"Looking for your toy, sweetheart?" Seraphina said casually, inspecting her nails."It was broken, so I threw it away. You know how flawed things ruin the palace's aesthetic."
Instead of pressing her sword to Seraphina's throat, Velira closed the distance between them in an instant. Their faces were only inches apart. Seraphina's smug smile faded as she felt the pure killing intent radiating from Velira.
"He was my property," Velira said coldly."And you threw my property into that poisonous pit without my permission."
Velira placed her hand on Seraphina's chest. The magic gathering in her palm began to scorch the expensive fabric of Seraphina's dress.
"Pray that human survives down there, Seraphina," Velira continued."Because inside what you called 'scrap' lies a potential you haven't seen in centuries. If he dies… I will tell my father who truly stirred the rebellion in the mines. And who is funding the Exiled Elves."
Seraphina's eyes widened.
"You can't prove that."
"I don't need proof," Velira said as she stepped back."My father's suspicion alone is enough to take your head. Now move out of my way."
As Velira turned and walked away, one thought burned in her mind.
That human is not ordinary. He cannot die down there. He must not.
Far below, in the suffocating darkness of the Deep Pit, Eray moved through the tunnels leading to the Old Gallery, guided by Kaelen.
This was a forgotten vein of the mine, erased from all maps. Phosphorescent fungi on the walls bathed the tunnels in a dim green light. The air was thick, filled with lung-burning dust and decay.
At the end of the tunnel, Eray stepped into a wide cavern. Around ten people were inside. All were armed, but their weapons were crude: sharpened crystals, rusted pickaxes, stolen daggers.
At the center of the cave, sitting atop an overturned mine cart, was a man.
Short, but incredibly broad-shouldered. His beard was braided, and half his face was covered in an old burn scar.
"Our guest has arrived," Kaelen said, pushing Eray forward.
The seated man slowly struck his axe against the stone. This was no pickaxe, but a heavy iron war axe. The ringing echoed through the cavern.
"So this is the Princess's lapdog that fell out of her bed," the man said. His voice sounded like gravel grinding together."Kaelen sang your praises, but all I see is a skinny wretch who smells of perfume."
Eray remembered Kaelen's warning, but he had no intention of backing down. He straightened his shoulders and cast aside the "slave" mask. Only cold calculation remained on his face.
"I'm not a dog," Eray said, pointing at the red collar around his neck."I'm someone who came to cut the throats of those who put this on me."
The man laughed. Short, harsh, mocking.
"They all say that," he replied."Then they cry for their mothers after the first lash. They call me Vako, human. Leader of the Ash Heirs. And I don't waste time on palace runaways like you."
Vako stepped closer. Though his height barely reached Eray's chest, the threat he radiated was immense. He pressed the tip of his axe against Eray's chest, directly over his heart.
"What are you?" Vako asked, narrowing his eyes."You're not an ordinary human. You don't smell like a slave. Your eyes… there's no fear in them. You look like someone commanding a battle inside his head."
Eray did not look away.
"I'm a soldier," he said."From a place far beyond your maps."
"A soldier?" Vako sneered."No magic. No muscle. No armor. What makes you a soldier? Empty courage?"
"Knowledge," Eray replied.
He crouched slowly and picked up a handful of black, coal-like powder from the ground. A flammable mineral abundant in the mines, used by locals only to light furnaces.
"You use this powder only to burn," Eray said, crushing it between his fingers."Where I come from, we respect it. Pack it into the right containers and mix it with the correct amount of sulfur… and what you get isn't fire."
He scattered the powder at Vako's feet.
"It's destruction."
"My people don't need magic to wage war, Vako," Eray continued."We use stone, earth, and metal. I can collapse a cavern without a single mage and shake the foundations of that Silver City above us. We don't call that magic."
"We call it chemistry."
The whispers in the cave died.
Kaelen and Vako exchanged glances. This human spoke madness—but the certainty in his voice could not be ignored.
"Can you really do that?" Vako asked, his tone turning serious."The moment you try magic, that collar will blow you apart."
"I told you," Eray snapped."I don't need magic. I need materials. And the right tools."
Vako thought for a long moment. Then he lowered his axe.
There was something savage, something intelligent in this man that he liked.
"Very well, outsider," Vako said."Your words are big. But we need proof. In Gorak's storage, there are confiscated 'forbidden goods.' A piece of a vital map is kept there. Bring it to us."
"That storage is right beneath where Gorak sleeps," Kaelen said anxiously."That's suicide. No one can get in there."
Vako grinned, his yellow teeth flashing in the dark.
"If he's the soldier he claims to be, he can steal butter from under an ogre's nose."
Eray accepted the challenge.
"I'll bring the map," he said."But I want something in return."
"What do you want?"
"Not freedom," Eray replied."I want my equipment. The rifle and armor hanging in Velira's room. They are my weapons. You will help me get them back."
Vako was surprised by the strange request. What use did this man have for metal scraps? But he did not question it.
"First, bring the map, Soldier," Vako said."Then we'll talk about how to steal your things from that decorated room."
As Eray turned and walked into the dark tunnel, the collar around his neck pulsed softly.
Not with pain.
But with anticipation.
The Princess thought he was a dog.Seraphina thought he was trash.
None of them knew that the man walking through the darkness could bring their empire down with nothing but a rusted pickaxe and a handful of powder.