History leaves much unsaid; and that is how I will have it
Dowager Queen Iris-han' Hezt
Tez' Mu's head throbbed with each gallop of the horse beneath him as it tore down the cobbled path. The night had brought in cold wind but it did nothing to cool the fever now creeping up his skin.
The torches lining the drive to the Mu Manor danced in their sconces, almost blown out by the wind. As Tez' Mu drew near to the gates, his grip on the reins tightened, leather pressing into his palm, heart still pounding from the shock of what of he had discovered.
Keol' Han. The king of Ochelon. A boy. A sickly, lonely child tucked away in a forgotten tower, guarded by nothing but an old nanny, creeping vines, and the lies that kept people away from the Kelzar Groove.
His horse careened to a halt in front of the gates, hooves scattering gravel. As Tez' Mu swung off the saddle, a fresh wave of pain pulsed through his temples, making him grimace. He pressed two fingers against his forehead, rubbing in slow circles, but it did nothing to help. He needed sleep. He needed to think, before his subordinates wrested from him the truth he was not yet prepared to share.
But they were already waiting for him.
Na' Raa stood at the forefront, her eyes sharp as she assessed him. Behind her, Kal' Yu leaned against a pillar, brows creased, while Yanak adjusted his headband, staring at Tez' Mu with thinly veiled curiosity. Even Annir was watching him too closely.
"Where have you been?" Sari asked, stepping forward from behind the rest.
Tez' Mu exhaled slowly. "Chasing lord Ui," he said, not entirely a lie.
Na' Raa's eyes narrowed. "And?"
He clenched his jaw. He couldn't tell them. Not yet. Definitely not now. Even he did not fully understand the situation yet, much less what he should do.
"I lost him," he muttered, stepping past them into the manor.
Na' Raa scoffed. "Of course you did."
"Na'," Kal' Yu warned. Na' Raa turned to glare at the deputy just as Tez' Mu waved a hand.
"Let it rest. I'm tired."
He could feel their stares on his back as he walked away, but none of them said anything else. They would, eventually. Sari, especially, wouldn't let it go.
But for now, he was glad for the space to breathe. To think.
He moved through the corridors, each step leaden. The door clicked shut behind him when he finally arrived in his room. Moonfire slipped from his hand and clattered onto the low table. His hand moved to the clasp of his cloak, unfastening it. It fell away from his shoulders onto the floor. The vambraces came off next, tossed carelessly across the room.
He sank onto the bed, lifting each feet one after the other and kicking off his boots. His body ached all over. But his mind wasn't here—it was still in the tower, caught in the glow of Keol' Han's too-bright eyes, the quiet hope in his voice when he asked if Tez' Mu would return. The way he had grinned, utterly fearless, utterly trusting, despite his isolation.
Tez' Mu squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't let himself get attached. He was already too deep in something he didn't fully understand. But he had made a promise.
Tomorrow.
He would return tomorrow.
With that thought, he let exhaustion take him.
Morning came, and with it, an unexpected visitor.
Mali' Il swept into the Mu Manor, layers of deep blue silk whispering around her as she moved. The morning caught the golden strands of her hair, twisted into an elaborate knot, its pins glinting like daggers. Tez' Mu received her in the main hall, lounging in his chair as she entered, her hands clasped tightly before her, her throat working as she swallowed.
She did not sit.
"Lord Mu," she greeted, her voice carrying none of her usual playfulness. "I came to ask if the rumors are true."
Tez' Mu tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "Rumors?"
Mali' Il inhaled slowly. "Four Scith lords have disappeared. And counting." Her voice was steady, but he caught the flicker of unease in her eyes. "I want to know—are you behind it?"
Tez' Mu let the question hang in the air for a moment before exhaling through his nose. Then, with the same lazy amusement, he replied, "Yes."
Mali' Il's lips parted slightly, though she quickly schooled her expression. "You sent me a letter. Here I am. What is it that you wan?"
Tez' Mu grinned. "Your support."
Mali' Il's shoulders stiffened. "What if I refuse?"
Tez' Mu's eyes gleamed as he leaned forward, dropping his voice to a bare whisper. "Then you might also disappear."
Mali' Il's breath hitched, her composure cracking for the briefest of moments. She studied him, unable to believe her eyes. The boy lord of the Mu Manor was gone. In his place was someone else entirely—someone colder, sharper, and wholly unpredictable.
She swallowed. "You've changed."
Tez' Mu's grin didn't waver. "I had to."
Mali' Il exhaled, then stepped forward to take the seat that had been offered her, her spine rigid. She was wary, though she masked it well. Her sharp eyes swept over Tez' Mu, who remained draped lazily over his seat, fingers tapping idly against the armrest.
"What exactly do you want from me?" she asked again, her voice carefully measured.
The tapping stopped.
Gone was the lazy posture. Tez' Mu leaned in, elbows on his knees, gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch.
"Your only job," he said, "is to spread, as far and as wide as possible, whatever I send you."
Mali' Il blinked, then narrowed her eyes. "And what will these things contain?"
Tez' Mu's lips curled into a cold grin, his earlier amusement returning. "Wait patiently, and you'll see."
Mali' Il clenched her fingers in her lap, her mind racing. But before she could even part her lips, Tez' Mu tilted his head, eyes glinting with warning.
"Think carefully, Lady Il." his voice was soft. The kind of softness that slithered into a man's bones and chilled them from within. "You wouldn't want to disappear next, would you?"
It was not an empty threat. With the Onan Desar behind him and the Dowager's favor as his leverage, he could do anything he wanted. A shiver ghosted down Mali' Il's spine, though she fought to keep her face impassive. The Tez' Mu she had known was young, ambitious, and bound by the rules of nobility. The man before her was something else entirely.
Something dangerous.
For the first time in her life, Mali' Il felt truly afraid.
She left not long after, muttering under her breath as Sari bowed her out. Tez' Mu smirked, then turned as Na' Raa stepped into the hall, her expression hard.
"What do you want to do about Lord Ui?" she asked coldly.
Tez' Mu frowned. "Keep trying to catch him?"
Na' Raa rolled her eyes, her suspicions confirmed. "I caught him last night."
Tez' Mu's eyes widened, then he quickly amended his expression. "Of course," he grinned, "As expected of our Lieutenant Na' Raa. No one can get past you."
Na' Raa did not register the flattery. She watched as Tez' Mu rose from his seat, rolling his shoulders as he strode forward.
"Where is he?" he asked the lieutenant. Na' Raa pointed ahead.
"I locked him in the anteroom with the others."
"Good," Tez' Mu's eyes turned cold as he headed in the direction of the anterooms of the main hall.
Kal' Yu, Yanak and Sari were already waiting there, silently, their faces impassive. The lords they had captured knelt in their bindings, their eyes flicking up as Tez' Mu entered the chamber. Some glared in defiance, others shivered in quiet terror. It made no difference.
These were not lords on the brink of rebellion.
These were the Dowager's loyalists.
Tez' Mu's blade cut through the air, meeting flesh without hesitation. Blood pooled on the cold stone floor, the scent metallic and heavy. Each body fell with a soft thud.
Beheaded.
By now, afternoon had rolled by. Tez' Mu stood over the bodies, his breaths even, his pulse steady. He wiped the blade clean with practiced ease before stepping away, stripping off his bloodstained gloves. He then strode over to the basin in the room. He had prepared for this beforehand, but told no one.
His subordinates were rooted to the spot in shock. Tez' Mu smirked, as the blood ran off his fingers in slow, crimson ribbons, swirling into the basin as he methodically washed his hands. No one acknowledged the bodies cooling in the room.
The last of the blood slid away. Tez' Mu flicked the water off his hands, reaching for a cloth to dry them.
"I'm heading out." His voice was casual, as if he were announcing a leisurely ride instead of walking away from freshly spilled blood. "No one follows."
They nodded without hesitation.
The journey to the tower was a swift one, the familiar path having carved itself into Tez' Mu's memory. As he approached, he caught sight of the small wooden house at the edge of the clearing. The nanny would likely still be there, preparing for the evening.
Good.
He secured his horse a distance away and made his way up the craggy hill. The tower loomed, unchanged, half-swallowed by vines and crooked branches. It was as desolate as ever, standing still in time.
Tez' Mu slipped inside through the heavy door. The air remained thick with dust and damp stone, the same scent he had inhaled the night before. He barely paid it any mind as he took the stairs two at a time, his pulse steady, his focus sharp.
At the top, he didn't need to knock.
"You're back."
Keol' Han's voice greeted him before the boy even looked up from his window seat. He was once again buried in a book, his small frame curled against the alcove. His white hair was slightly less disheveled than the night before, and his bright green eyes flicked up from the pages to meet Tez' Mu's.
"I keep my promises," Tez' Mu said, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.
Keol' Han grinned, pleased. "What did you bring me?"
Without a word, Tez' Mu pulled a book from the folds of his cloak and tossed it onto the boy's lap. The thick, leather-bound tome landed with a soft thud. Keol' Han's eyes widened. His hands eagerly traced the embossed title on the cover.
"Legends of the Age of Conquest," he read aloud, wonder lacing his tone. He glanced up. "I've heard of this one!"
"Have you read it?"
"No." Keol' Han's fingers curled around the book possessively. "But I wanted to."
Tez' Mu smirked, leaning back against the wall. "Now you can."
Keol' Han wasted no time flipping open the cover, skimming through the first pages with an excitement only a true reader possessed. Tez' Mu watched him, arms crossed, observing the boy's unguarded enthusiasm.
It was strange to see the supposed king of Ochelon with all the naivety of a child, untouched by the politics that had torn the empire apart in his name.
For a brief moment, Tez' Mu allowed himself to wonder what kind of king Keol' Han would have been if he had grown up in the palace instead of this lonely tower.
He walked over and took a seat beside the boy.
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Keol' Han asked, not looking up.
Tez' Mu snorted. "Are you that eager to get rid of me?"
Keol' Han shook his head. "No. You're my friend, remember?"
Tez' Mu stilled. The word settled in his chest oddly, like a piece that didn't quite fit the puzzle. He had said it the night before, but… He wasn't sure if he had meant it.
And yet, Keol' Han believed him.
For the first time, Tez' Mu found himself at a loss for words.
Keol' Han turned a page.
For moment, Tez' Mu let himself forget the blood on his hands. If it was for the boy, for the kingdom; then it was worth it.
"You like reading about war, don't you?" Tez' Mu asked.
Keol' Han nodded. "They're exciting. And they teach me things."
"Such as?"
"How to win battles," the boy replied, raising the book to his nose.
Tez' Mu hummed. "Then tell me, how do you feel about being king?"
Keol' Han shrugged. "I don't know."
"Do you think you're ready to take the throne?" Tez' Mu asked.
Keol' Han nodded without hesitation. "Of course."
Tez' Mu raised a brow. A chuckle escaped his throat. "You're sure?"
Keol' Han nodded again, resolute. "I've read everything about kingship. I know what a king must do."
"Which is?"
"Rule."
Tez' Mu shook his head. He sighed.
"Do you know a man called Offal' Kest?"
Keol' Han's brows furrowed, and then he nodded. "Yes."
Tez' Mu could tell immediately that Keol' Han only knew the name from books, not the man behind it. He leaned forward slightly. "Do you know what he's doing now?"
Keol' Han hesitated before shaking his head.
Tez' Mu exhaled, choosing his words carefully. "He started a rebellion. A terrible and bloody one. Do you know why?"
Keol' Han shook his head again, lowering the book.
Tez' Mu watched him carefully. "Because he wants you on the throne."
Keol' Han's eyes widened. "Me?"
Tez' Mu nodded. "He believes you are the rightful ruler. And he was willing to go to war with the entire empire to make that happen."
Keol' Han stared at him, stunned. "But… why?"
"Because to him, you aren't just a boy," Tez' Mu said. "You are a symbol. A king the empire needs."
Keol' Han's small hands tightened around the book in his lap. He looked troubled. "And… what did Aunt do about him?"
Tez' Mu's breath caught for a moment.
Aunt.
The fearsome Dowager. The most powerful figure in the empire. The woman who ruled with an iron grip. To this little boy, she was just… Aunt.
He closed his eyes. "She's fighting back," he said simply.
Keol' Han frowned. "Then… is she winning?"
Tez; Mu glanced at him. "Yes," he said, watching the boy's reaction closely.
"Good," Keol' Han nodded, staring at the book. Then he looked up at Tez' Mu. "What about Offal' Kest? What's happening to him?"
Tez' Mu hesitated. "He's winning too."
Keol' Han stared at him in confusion. "I don't understand. How can Aunt be winning and he too...is winning?"
Tez' Mu leaned back, crossing his arms. "You still think you're ready to take the throne?"
Keol' Han met his gaze. "I am."
Tez' Mu let out a small laugh. "We'll see about that."
He slipped out of the tower before the nanny could arrive, his steps silent against the stone as he descended. By the time he reached his horse, the moon had begun its slow crawl across the sky.
He swung himself into the saddle, nudging the beast into a steady canter. As he headed into the city, he turned towards the Ru Manor.
The manor was still awake when he arrived, its halls lit with lanterns. The scent of ink hung thick in the air as Tez' Mu stepped inside, boots clicking against the polished wooden floors.
The main hall had been transformed into a workshop—papers were stacked high on every available surface, Darin congressmen hunched over tables, carefully transcribing words onto fresh parchment. The rhythmic sound of brushstrokes filled the space, accompanied by the occasional muttered curse as ink blotted the careful script.
Muyo' Ai sat at the head of the largest table, sleeves rolled up, his robes smudged with ink. He glanced up as Tez' Mu entered, his sharp gaze narrowing slightly before he dipped his brush back into the inkstone.
"My lord," Muyo' Ai inclined his head briefly.
Tez' Mu stepped closer to survey their work. "You're all still at it? It's late."
Muyo' Ai snorted. He gestured to the stacks of paper. "We don't have the luxury of printing presses like the Scith. Every word written here is a stroke against the Dowager's reign."
Tez' Mu picked up one of the sheets, skimming the bold inked phrases. They bore tales of cruelty, of the court's excesses, of the suffering of the people. The words were carefully chosen, designed to stir discontent and plant seeds of doubt in the hearts of those still loyal to the empire.
He wondered, briefly, what Mali' Il would think once these documents reached her.
For a fleeting moment, he considered telling Muyo' Ai about Keol' Han. That the king they all claimed to fight for was hidden away in a forgotten tower. But as quickly as the thought arose, he discarded it. The boy was not ready. The rebellion was not ready. And if Muyo' Ai or any of the congressmen knew his whereabouts, it would only put Keol' Han in greater danger.
Instead, he set the paper back down and crossed his arms. "How's Guho?"
Muyo' Ai's expression darkened. "Still under siege. It's only a matter of time."
Tez' Mu arched an eyebrow. "You don't sound pleased."
Muyo' Ai let out a slow breath, setting his brush down. "Guho is just the beginning. Once the rebellion regains the west, there will be nothing left standing between them and the capital." He rubbed his temple, frustration clear in the furrow of his brow. "And the capital isn't ready for war. It'll be slaughter."
Tez' Mu merely shrugged. "Not my concern."
Muyo' Ai scowled at him. "It should be."
But Tez' Mu was already turning away, heading for the door. He had bigger things to think about than a city on the verge of collapse.
There was a boy in a tower who still believed his 'Aunt' had his best interests at heart.
And that, Tez' Mu thought grimly, was the real battle.
The morning light filtered through the paper windows of the Ru Manor, dim and pale. Tez' Mu sat up with a groan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The unfamiliar ceiling reminded him that he had stayed the night, a rare occurrence, but he had been too exhausted to return to his house. He barely had time to stretch before a knock came at the door.
Kal' Yu.
Tez' Mu opened the door, raising an eyebrow at the man's early arrival. Kal' Yu stepped inside, offering a small folded note. "Mali' Il sent word," he said, voice hushed despite the emptiness of the hallway.
Tez' Mu unfolded the note and read the two words scrawled onto it.
I'm in.
A smirk pulled at his lips. He expected as much. Mali' Il had always been pragmatic—she knew the tides were shifting, and she had no intention of sinking with the old regime.
"Good," he murmured. "Tell her to come here when she can. Discreetly."
Kal' Yu nodded and took his leave.
Tez' Mu descended the creaking stairs, his gaze sweeping across the hall where Muyo' Ai and the Darin congressmen had resumed their work again, after having only a few hours of sleep. The congressmen were almost in a frenzy now, hunched over stacks of paper, ink staining their fingers, having forgotten their earlier reluctance to spread dissent.
As Tez' Mu's eyes skimmed over the sheets, his smirk faded.
The words they penned were no longer subtle accusations or quiet dissent. These were outright declarations, venom inked into every stroke. Each of these papers could send the capital into a riot.
Tez' Mu's fingers curled against his palm. He had started this, but it was no longer in his hands.
Turning on his heel, he strode past them without another word. The capital could burn, for all it mattered.
Today, he had another priority.
Keol' Han.
He would visit the boy again, just as he had promised. And this time, he wouldn't hold back.
It was time the young king learned exactly what kind of monster his aunt truly was.
***
Tez' Mu arrived at the tower just as the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the clearing. As he pushed open the heavy wooden door, the familiar scent of damp stone greeted him, but something felt different. The air was heavier, stiller.
Keol' Han did not rush to meet him.
The boy lay motionless on the bed, his face pale, strands of white hair sticking to his damp forehead. His small chest rose and fell in uneven, shallow breaths, and his green eyes barely flickered open at Tez' Mu's arrival.
"Keol' Han!" Tez' Mu crossed the room in three long strides.
The boy's lips parted in an attempt to speak, but only a wheeze escaped. He swallowed, blinking up at Tez' Mu with a ghost of a smile.
"You're sick," Tez' Mu muttered, kneeling beside the bed. He placed the back of his hand against the boy's forehead. Too warm. His fingers curled into fists at his side. He had intended to come here today and continue what he'd started—to tell Keol' Han the truth of the Dowager, to shatter whatever illusions still clouded the boy's understanding of his so-called 'aunt.'
But not like this.
Not when Keol' Han could barely lift his head.
Tez' Mu exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face.
"Read to me," Keol' Han rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Tez' Mu hesitated. "What?"
"The book," Keol' Han murmured, shifting weakly. "The one you brought last time. Read it to me."
For a moment, Tez' Mu said nothing. Then, wordlessly, he pulled out Legends of the Age of Conquest from where he had tucked it inside his robes. He turned it over in his hands, eyes flitting between the pages and the fevered boy in front of him.
With a sigh, he sat down on the window seat, angling himself so he could still see Keol' Han on the bed. The boy's breathing was slow and labored, but his eyes remained on Tez' Mu, expectant despite his fatigue.
Tez' Mu flipped open the book, running his fingers along the old, crisp pages.
"'During the first moon of winter, the Great Unifier set his sights upon the Western Plains,'" he began, his voice steady. "'The warlords who ruled there had long resisted the Empire's grasp, but the time of splintered rule was nearing its end.'"
Keol' Han made a small, pleased sound, settling deeper into the covers.
Tez' Mu read on, his voice filling the otherwise quiet chamber. He hadn't meant to get so engrossed, but something about the steady rhythm of the words, the lunar stone's glow against the walls, and the occasional rustling of the sheets as Keol' Han shifted made the moment feel strangely… peaceful.
So much so that he did not notice the way the afternoon light waned, the sun dipping lower beyond the horizon.
Nor did he notice the flicker of movement outside the tower window—the faint figure that lingered by the clearing below.
The nanny stood at a distance, her sharp eyes narrowing as she caught sight of Tez' Mu's silhouette framed against the glass.
Then, silently, she turned and walked away.