The warm glow of early morning spilled through the cracked window, painting the modest room in gold and crimson.
The sun, halfway risen, struck Siah's half-lidded eyes,forcing a disgruntled grunt from his lips. He turned his face into the pillow,
his long, blood-red hair spread like fire across the linen.
His silk shirt was unbuttoned, chest bare,
Five dark vertical lines carved on his sternum in black ink. In his half awake state he failed to notice them as he button his shirt.
He yawned—
long, lazy, indifferent—
then stretched like a feline god.
With a dull thud, he dropped from the top bunk, bare feet slamming the wooden floor.
The bottom bunk was empty—its sheets tightly tucked, not a wrinkle out of place.
"Theal's already gone?" Siah muttered,
his lip curled.
"That bastard better have left me some Equi to buy food. I can't go into town to steal.
Need to lay low for now..."
The house was no more than a skeleton of a home: two cramped sleeping rooms, a narrow washroom, and a tiny kitchen that doubled as a dining space.
Siah shuffled into the kitchen, dragging his feet, hair swaying around him like a silk curtain.
His eyes landed on the table.
A note.
And Equi—laid out in deliberate order.
Two ten-Grelly bank notes.
One gleaming gold coin—worth five Grelly.
Two silver coins—each worth two Grelly.
One bronze—worth one Grelly.
Thirty Grelly.
Siah scowled,
snatched the note,
and began reading.
"The twenty Grelly is to hire a maid to cook and clean. The ten Grelly to buy food. I'm taking missions from the Pantheon in Gourmand City. They will count toward my knighthood."
Siah rolled his eyes.
"The Ract Stone Mines are still open. Father won't be home anytime soon.
Ration the food. Or you'll starve.
Don't contact me unless it's an emergency."
"If the beast hordes come down from the mountains, you can handle it yourself.
And don't bother Ma'am Grace's granddaughter Hazel. You frighten her."
He crushed the note.
The note flew out the window in a crumpled arc.
"Tsk... what are you rambling about?" Siah grumbled. "You think you can start ordering me around just 'cause you're making a little Equi?"
He pocketed the coins and notes, sneering at the now-empty table.
"We're the same age. I don't have to listen to you."
Outside, the morning light shimmered over the village. Chimneys coughed up dark smoke that drifted above wooden rooftops.
Small houses lined the cobbled street,
windows thrown open to let in the scent of blooming sunblossoms. Chickens pecked at the dust; a distant bell chimed. Everything was too alive for Siah's liking.
He leaned on the windowsill, watching the village with half-lidded boredom.
"I should make Hazel cook and clean for me. That old hag Grace should mind her own damn matters...
always crying to Theal about how I treat Hazel. Tsk."
With a cold snort. Siah flipped a silver coin between his fingers, already thinking of the gambling dens.
"Thirty Grelly. I foresee a fruitful day."
He grinned cheerfully.
"And I hope my favorite tavern maiden is working tonight."
With that, he sauntered into the washroom,
every step unhurried.
---
Gourmand City – Within the Inner Halls of the Eidolon Pantheon
Under the high vaulted ceiling of the Gourmand Pantheon, seven knights clad in obsidian-black armor and flowing crimson cloaks sat in solemn silence around a circular stone table, carved from obsidian and etched with ancient glyphs. Behind each knight stood a squire, dressed in light black leather armor, each bearing their captain's helmet and sheathed sword, standing upright though their eyes revealed a quiet tension.
The chamber itself pulsed with sacred history. Murals adorned every wall, vibrant yet aged, depicting mythic gods locked in battle. Deities clashing with horned monstrosities and otherworldly beasts in storms of star light and shadows. The ceiling arched above them like the sky itself, painted with celestial constellations. The scent of old parchment, wax, and oiled steel lingered like incense.
A stony silence filled the hall.
CLANG!
A gauntleted fist slammed against the sacred table.
Sir Gael, a bear of a man with a coarse beard and thunder in his eyes, rose to his feet. His muscular frame strained against his armor as his voice reverberated.
"We've waited since dawn, twiddling our thumbs. The missions are piling up, and still, we sit idle."
Iron gazes narrowed, but none spoke.
At that moment, the ancient oaken doors creaked open, and in stepped a figure in long black priestly robes — his presence like that of a tombstone among the living.
Father Hiermon, the High Ordained of Gourmand City's Pantheon.
"Sir Gael, your passion is noted," he said in a composed, gravelly tone."
Sir Gael's scowl deepened, but he said no more.
Father Hiermon stepped forward beneath the high ceiling of murals.
"I've summoned you all because Gourmand faces a delicate threat."
The knights, like statues brought to life, leaned in. Their squires stood even straighter, barely breathing.
"The ruling house of this city — House Gullet — reports the disappearance of a mainline member… along with his illegitimate son. Their patriarch, Lord Gaston Gullet, has invoked the Blood Covenants for discretion. He fears an open investigation might fracture their relationship with the other major houses of the Grelon Empire before they visit his Divinity in the coming days."
Brows furrowed. Sir Gael grunted, folding his arms. The tension in the room grew.
"House Gullet's totem, that traces their bloodline, has been triggered. It may mean death… or captured by someone capable
cutting its connection likely a powerful stillness who is atleast a status Status eight Ascendant Echelon stillness or an evil spirit or at the corresponding level."
A murmur passed between the knights.
Sir Austin, a lean knight with black hair and voice like flint, finally spoke:
"Father… with the Hue Beast Tide pressing through Mournmound Forest, stretching us thinner may bring ruin. Mercenaries have already betrayed us once — leading beasts into villages to inflate their fees. Mortal guards are barely capable of holding the gates."
The knights nodded solemnly. Sir Gael's gloved hand twitched on the hilt of his sword.
"We'll deal with Mournmound. Let the knight Commanders deal with this House Gullet matter we shouldn't involve ourselves in matters beyond the physical plane we are no different from mortals against such enemies."
Father Hiermon stepped forward again, placing a parchment scroll at the center of the table.
"Read. Debate. Choose wisely. Send applications to the Capital for Code Red Totems — until then, you act with what strength you have."
A moment passed. Then came the scrape of steel on stone.
Sir Ryann, his silver hair neatly bound behind him, stood tall. He placed his longsword before the scroll.
"The Blood Dragons will take the investigation. Our base is near house Gullet's estate making it easier for us to look into the matter. It's also efficient… and we move with or without aid."
His words were cool and precise.
From across the table, a knight with sun-golden hair and a wide grin rose in a single, fluid motion. He was taller than the rest, with long arms that draped like coiled rope.
"Then the Blood snakes will join the Blood Dragons. Wouldn't miss the Equi."
His words were half-jest, but the edge in them was clear. He placed his sword beside Ryann's.
Then came the sudden scraping of armor again.
Sir Gael stood once more — his shadow stretching across the table.
"Enough. The investigation is theirs. Theal let's go."
He turned with force, his cloak whipping behind him. All eyes followed as he marched from the hall.
"Yes, Captain," Theal said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sir Gael's voice thundered one last time through the holy halls.
"The blood Hounds march to Mournmound! We will meet the Hue Tide at the summit!
Praise be to His Divinity!"
His voice echoed off the sacred walls.