Midday settled over the outskirts of Regel-Sete.
The Argentis Mansion stood among the older estates surrounding the capital, its architecture unmistakably Vendish. Pale stone walls rose beneath sweeping wooden eaves, while narrow towers and elaborate carved supports gave the ancestral home a presence that reflected the age of the family that occupied it. It was an old structure, but it had been meticulously maintained across generations.
The Argentis family had always believed that preserving the past was part of protecting the future.
Within the mansion, Maloryn Argentis sat alone in his study.
The room was lined from floor to ceiling with archives, manuscripts, and books documenting thousands of years of Vendish history. Shelves occupied nearly every wall, their contents carefully organized into subjects ranging from ancient warfare and royal genealogy to philosophy, agriculture, architecture, magic, and the customs of the oldest Vendish clans.
At the center of the room sat an imposing wooden desk.
Maloryn leaned over it, surrounded by state policy documents.
He had been attempting to read the same report for several minutes.
He had retained none of it.
Maloryn was an imposing figure even in old age. His long silver hair was pulled back neatly, revealing a sharp, angular face marked by centuries of life. His green eyes remained clear and penetrating, while the faint lines across his features spoke not of weakness, but of an exceptionally long existence. His posture remained straight, his frame lean and disciplined beneath his formal clothing.
More than eight hundred years had passed since his birth.
Yet his mind remained active.
And today, it was anything but calm.
He pushed the document aside and rose from his chair.
Maloryn walked toward the tall window overlooking the city.
Beyond the glass, Regel-Sete stretched across the landscape. Ancient districts merged with newer neighborhoods, while towers, gardens, roads, and monumental structures formed a city that had grown continuously across countless generations. At the distant horizon stood the Royal Castle.
Maloryn stared at the city.
Despite everything that troubled him, he could not deny its beauty.
Regel-Sete had stood for ten thousand years.
Ten thousand years.
The thought carried weight.
For ten thousand years, the Vends had protected their homeland, their traditions, and their knowledge. Kingdoms had risen and disappeared elsewhere. Peoples had changed. Borders had shifted. Civilizations had been forgotten.
The Vends had endured.
Maloryn turned his gaze toward a banner hanging from the opposite wall.
Emblazoned upon it was the sigil of the Golden Tree of Knowledge.
His family.
The Argentis.
Since the founding of the country, the Argentis family had preserved Vendish knowledge and the ways of life passed down through generations. They had maintained archives, protected historical records, documented traditions, and ensured that the accumulated wisdom of the Vends would not be forgotten.
Maloryn had devoted his life to that responsibility.
More than eight hundred years of service.
He had faithfully served two kings and now served the third monarch of his lifetime, the recently crowned Queen Ilriath.
He had witnessed generations of Vendish history unfold before him. He had watched rulers come and go, witnessed wars begin and end, and seen entire generations disappear while the kingdom continued.
He had survived because he understood what endured.
Tradition endured.
The Vend endured.
Everything else was temporary.
Maloryn turned back toward the window.
Somewhere within that vast city was the Foreigners Borough.
His expression hardened.
That district represented everything he believed had gone wrong.
Valoryth had opened the kingdom.
The former king had believed that interaction with other races would strengthen the Vends. He had encouraged trade, diplomacy, cultural exchange, and cooperation.
Maloryn had warned against it.
The Vends were capable of standing on their own.
They had survived for ten thousand years without depending upon outsiders. Why should that change now?
Diplomacy was unnecessary when the kingdom already possessed everything it needed.
Foreign technology was unnecessary when Vendish craftsmen and mages had refined their own traditions for millennia.
Foreign culture was unnecessary when the Vends already possessed one of the oldest civilizations in Tarmynia.
Even Valoryth’s argument that understanding other races would provide greater protection seemed foolish to Maloryn.
What could outsiders offer that the Vends did not already possess?
The Vends were long-lived.
They were patient.
They had survived countless generations.
They could simply outlive everyone else.
That was the strength of the Vend.
But Valoryth had not understood.
And now Maloryn could see the consequences.
Foreign customs had entered Vendish society. Foreign habits followed them. Foreign vices had begun appearing among the people.
The Foreigners Borough had become a permanent presence within the capital.
Maloryn’s hand slowly curled into a fist.
This was not progress.
It was contamination.
The former king had opened the door, and now the kingdom was paying for it.
Maloryn looked again toward the Royal Castle.
His anger deepened.
Now Queen Ilriath had continued the same mistake.
She had permitted a human to enter the sacred Northern Forest.
A human.
Not because the kingdom required him.
Not because the Queen’s advisers had determined that his presence was necessary.
She had allowed him to enter because Seralyth had asked her to.
Maloryn’s jaw tightened.
Seralyth.
Even after everything that had happened to her, she had returned to the kingdom with this human at her side.
And Ilriath had permitted it.
The Northern Forest was not merely another section of land. It was sacred. Its ancient trees, spirits, creatures, and secrets belonged to the Vends.
Allowing an outsider to enter was an unacceptable violation.
Maloryn knew what he had to do.
If the Queen would not stop the human, then someone else would.
His duty was to the kingdom.
His duty was to the Vend.
He had spent more than eight centuries protecting it.
One human would not be permitted to threaten what generations of Vends had preserved.
Maloryn turned away from the window.
A brief flash of movement appeared beyond the doorway.
He immediately stopped.
His eyes narrowed.
Someone was there.
He approached the door and opened it.
On the other side was a small teleportation gate.
It was nothing like the massive gate installed within the Royal Castle. This one was compact, its circular platform barely large enough for a single person.
A figure stood upon it.
Maloryn studied the stranger.
“Are you the Venom Blade?”
The figure answered without hesitation.
“Yes.”
The teleportation gate dimmed behind her as she stepped down from the platform.
Maloryn stepped out of the study as well, closing the door behind him.
His eyes moved over the assassin.
She was a Vendish woman, approximately his height but considerably more slender. Her green hair fell to her shoulders in a somewhat unkempt mass, framing a youthful face that contrasted sharply with the coldness of her expression. Her body was lean and toned, built for speed and flexibility rather than brute strength.
Her eyes immediately drew his attention.
They radiated a faint red glow.
Maloryn’s gaze moved downward.
A large black collar surrounded the woman’s neck. At its center was a red crystal that seemed to pulse with the same unnatural light.
Maloryn recognized that this was no ordinary piece of Vendish equipment.
He said nothing about it.
Instead, he looked directly at the assassin.
“I have communicated a deal with Primal Veil.”
The Venom Blade remained silent.
Maloryn had expected as much.
The Agents of Primal Veil were not known for unnecessary conversation.
“Are you alone?”
The assassin’s glowing eyes remained fixed upon him.
“We are here.”
Maloryn frowned.
“What does that mean?”
There was no response.
The woman simply stood there.
Maloryn studied her for a moment before deciding that the answer was irrelevant.
He continued.
“The agreement is simple. The Agents of the Veil shall kill the human named Kaiten.”
Silence.
“The assassination will take place within the Northern Forest. It will be done quietly. There must be no indication that the Vendish government was involved.”
The Venom Blade did not respond.
Maloryn continued anyway.
“In exchange, I will assist Primal Veil with any request they make of me in the future.”
Again, silence.
The assassin’s indifference did not concern him.
The arrangement had already been made.
The human would be eliminated.
Seralyth would remain unharmed.
The matter would disappear before it could become a political problem.
Maloryn nodded toward the teleportation gate.
“Go.”
The Venom Blade turned toward the platform.
Then she stopped.
Her head tilted slightly.
“Kaiten, Seralyth. Kill the ones that have touched the seal.”
Maloryn’s expression changed.
“Kaiten is the only target. Not Seralyth.”
The assassin remained motionless.
Maloryn stared at her.
Something about her words disturbed him.
Not because she had disobeyed him.
Because of what she had said.
The ones that had touched the seal.
His thoughts immediately returned to the Northern Forest.
Kaiten.
Seralyth.
The seal.
His mind began connecting the pieces.
Kaiten had told him the seal was weakening.
He had dismissed the human’s explanation.
He had believed the human was responsible.
Or, at the very least, that his presence was somehow connected to the problem.
But Kaiten had never claimed that he had caused the weakening.
He had warned them about it.
He had gone into the forest to investigate it.
And Seralyth had gone with him.
They had touched the seal.
Maloryn’s eyes widened.
The realization struck him with devastating clarity.
The human had been telling the truth.
Kaiten had known something was wrong.
Seralyth had discovered it as well.
And Maloryn had responded by hiring assassins to kill the very people investigating the danger.
His stomach tightened.
The Northern Forest was not simply a political boundary.
Something was happening there.
Something that could threaten the kingdom itself.
Maloryn looked toward the Venom Blade.
His certainty began to collapse.
The arguments he had constructed in his mind suddenly seemed hollow.
He had been so certain that the human was another consequence of Valoryth’s mistake.
Another outsider.
Another threat.
But what if he had been wrong?
What if Kaiten was not the threat?
What if Maloryn had just sent the threat directly into the forest?
His breathing became unsteady.
He looked toward the Royal Castle in the distance, then back at the assassin.
“I made a grave mistake!”
He never had the opportunity to say anything more.
Vines erupted from the floor.
They wrapped around his legs, torso, and arms before he could react.
Maloryn struggled against them, but the vines tightened with unnatural strength.
Thorns pierced through his clothing and entered his flesh.
Venom spread through his body.
His strength began to disappear.
His vision blurred.
His limbs became numb.
Maloryn tried to speak, but his voice failed him.
The assassin stepped closer.
Through his fading vision, Maloryn looked at her face again.
The green hair.
The familiar features.
The eyes.
Something buried deep within his memory surfaced.
A face from decades past.
A name he had not spoken in years.
His eyes widened.
“Elana!”
The word escaped his lips as little more than a whisper.
Then his awareness slowly left his body.
Blackness followed.