Darian didn't touch it. He didn't even look at it directly. He continued his work, his quill scratching rhythmically as he transcribed the morning's logistics report.
[System Analysis: Artifact Detected] [Object: Petal of the Weeping Rose] [Function: Passive Tracking / Audio Link] [Origin: The Silent Hand (Kingdom of Valois)] [Warning: A high-tier 'Inquisitor' is currently within 500 meters.]
Darian’s mind raced. Inquisitor Solas had bypassed the Vanguard’s perimeter wards, the Battalion’s checkpoints, and even the "True-Sight" spectacles of Lord Varick. The Kingdom of Valois didn't play the game of gold or steel; they played the game of the soul.
"Darian, you’ve missed a line."
High Strategist Valerius was standing behind him, his shadow falling across the desk. The older man looked exhausted, his eyes bloodshot from a night spent interrogating the empty air of Harek’s cell.
Darian blinked, looking up with a start. He quickly swept the rose petal off the desk with his sleeve, letting it flutter into the wastebasket as if it were mere debris. "I apologize, sir. My mind... it’s still on the Captain’s passing. It feels as if a heavy curtain has been pulled over this city."
Valerius grunted, leaning over to look at the ledgers. "A curtain? No, boy. It’s a shroud. Lord Varick is demanding a full purge of the City Watch. He thinks the 'Hollow Order' is actually a front for the Kingdom of Kharon. He’s looking for spies under every bed."
"And what do you think, Strategist?" Darian asked, his voice small and humble.
"I think we are being hunted by something older than kingdoms," Valerius whispered, his voice dropping so low the "audio-link" in the wastebasket could barely catch it. "I’ve seen those mana-strokes before. They don't come from relics. They come from Presence."
Darian nodded slowly. He needed to lead the Inquisitor away from the Manor, and more importantly, away from the "Rusty Cog."
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
As soon as Valerius left, Darian activated the Sub-Space Interface.
[Command: Cell Beta (Lyra)] [Directive: Locate the source of the 'Rose Scent'. Do not engage. Use 'Void-Blind' to mask your own signature.]
[Command: Cell Alpha (Vaxen)] [Directive: Prepare a 'Sacrificial Node'. Use the abandoned chapel in the Grey District. Create a mana-trail that leads from the Manor to the chapel.]
Darian was going to give Solas a ghost to chase. He used the Simple System to synthesize a fake mana-signature—one that mimicked the "Presence" of a low-level deity. He "leaked" this signature through the Vanguard’s ventilation system, making it appear as if a secret agent of the Hollow Order had just fled the building.
In the shadows of the Manor's courtyard, a figure detached itself from the stone wall. Inquisitor Solas was a man made of sharp angles and black silk. His eyes were covered by a crimson blindfold, yet he moved with the predatory grace of a hawk.
He felt the fake mana-trail. It smelled of ozone and ancient stone. To a servant of the Weeping Mother, it was a siren song.
"So," Solas whispered, his voice a dry rasp. "The architect leaves his nest."
He didn't follow the trail immediately. He paused, his "soul-scent" drifting back toward the archive window where Darian sat. He felt... nothing. Just the dull, gray rhythm of a common clerk.
Solas turned away, leaping over the ten-foot perimeter wall in a single, silent bound.
Hours later, Darian walked home. He purposely took the long route, winding through the Middle District's alleyways to ensure no lingering "scent" followed him.
When he entered the "Rusty Cog," he found Mary sitting at the kitchen table, a single red rose—identical to the petal on his desk—sitting in a jar of water.
Darian’s heart nearly stopped.
"A nice gentleman stopped by today," Mary said, smiling, though her eyes were troubled. "He said he was an old friend of your father’s. He left this for you, Darian. Said you’d know what it meant."
Darian looked at the rose. It wasn't a tracker this time. It was a message.
I see you, little clerk.
Uncle John walked in from the workshop, his prosthetic arm clicking. "Darian? You look like you've seen a ghost. Who was that man? He had a... strange way about him. Like the air got cold when he spoke."
Darian forced a smile, though his insides felt like ice. "Just an old contact from the archives, Uncle. He’s... looking for a specific book."
[Warning: Critical Threat Detected] [The Silent Hand has identified the 'Rusty Cog' as a Point of Interest.] [Authority Synchronization: 60%] [New Objective: Relocate the Anchor / Eliminate Inquisitor Solas.]
Darian realized the slow pace of his takeover had been interrupted by a faster predator.he couldn't just manage the city; he had to protect his heart.
"John, Mary," Darian said, his voice dropping its clerk-like facade for a brief, terrifying second. "I need you to pack a small bag. Just the essentials. We're going to stay at the summer cottage in the hills for a few days."
"Darian? What's wrong?" Mary asked, her hand trembling.
"The archives are being renovated," Darian lied, his eyes already calculating the safest route through the sewers. "It’s not safe for civilians. Please. Just trust me."