Inside what resembled an office, a blood-soaked man lay on the floor, groaning in agony. Caelan sat at the table as if the dying man were nothing more than a scenery, one leg crossed over the other, his eyes gliding over the parchment in his hand.
What sounded like a short scoff, and a humorless laugh, escaped him, though his gaze simmered with controlled violence. The document was a report of yet another ambush from one of his men. He had received it from the junior captain he'd sent out three days prior. The man had only returned to the North this morning, which led to Caelan dispatching a replacement last night.
"How interesting," Caelan murmured as he folded the parchment with deliberate calm. "The Beast Plague has become a joke to the council, hasn't it? The horde from four days ago was suspicious enough, but now the pattern makes sense. It seems there isn't a single warden on the southern borders that I can trust."
He tossed the parchment onto the table, the corners fluttering before it settled. "The Beast Plague has been around for more than half a century, am I right?" He said, his tone flat, almost academic. "And yet not a single scholar, retired soldier, or so-called experts can explain where they come from, or how they even came to exist. If no one bothers to consider any of that and continue to focus solely on getting rid of them, then tell me…"
His fingers tapped once against the tabletop.
"...how exactly do we intend to survive?"
His eyes flicked briefly to the bleeding man, impassive and unbothered, before returning to the table. "Do you actually believe we can handle their numbers at this rate?" Caelan continued softly. "They're growing stronger, faster, and I am the one losing ground. Yet somehow, despite all our efforts, these beasts always manage to slip through the very territory you are assigned to monitor."
He tilted his head. "Isn't that your duty as a warden? To serve the Empire's veins? To regulate anything that dares to cross our borders? Did you actually forget?"
The man on the ground coughed, spitting blood. He was trembling with so much fear that he could not bring himself to form a coherent answer.
"I– I know nothing, Your Grace. I swear it."
Caelan's expression did not shift. "I understand the southern routes can be difficult to manage. There are too many hidden passages, and too many blind spots. But if you cannot handle the duties of a warden, why accept the post? Were you that desperate for a title?"
His tone stayed calm, almost conversational. "I can't spare you, you understand. That would be an insult to the soldiers who died because of your lowly negligence, yours and that of your patrol. Tell me, how is it that the beasts always find ways to break through every barrier route except the ones you're personally under? What possible reason would they have to slaughter every other patrol, yet consistently spare yours?"
He tilted his head slightly. "It's not as if they can think for themselves… can they?"
Caelan wasn't questioning the warden without foundation, because his suspicions had long taken root.
A century ago, or so the records claimed, beasts of every kind had begun to invade their realm. It started in the western province, the first to be completely erased from the map. Not a single soul survived the unexpected attack. The loss had been catastrophic, reducing the realm's population by nearly thirty percent in a matter of weeks, and it kept going downhill from there.
What was worse… the bodies were never found. Not because people fled, but because the beasts feasted on flesh. Not for hunger. But for pleasure.
In response to the invasion, the strongest, and most valiant soldiers had ventured into the western province, desperate to understand what the beasts were and where they came from. But none returned. They were eventually declared dead, though some refused to accept it as their bodies were never brought back. More groups were sent after them, only for those groups to vanish the exact same way– without trace, or explanation. Due to that, no one dared to step beyond the southern borders.
In desperation, the ruler, either the former monarch or the one before him, depending on which chronicle one believed, sought divine intervention. And a saintess responded. She revealed that the only way to halt the invasion was to create a barrier before the beasts could spread farther. Thus, the barrier was forged in the southern region, and the southern borders became the veins of the Empire. Once they were able to cross the southern barrier, these beasts were able to gain easy access to the rest of the borders, as the barriers there weren't as strong as the ones created in the southern borders.
To put it simply, the Southern barrier was the singular line preventing extinction.
For a time, peace held. The beasts could not cross as the saintess had foretold.
It went that way for several years, until Lilian's father exposed the blind spots to these beasts. They were passages no one else had known existed. Paths the creatures learned to exploit.
These beasts were not dull. Not mindless. And Caelan had no intention of allowing the truth behind them to remain hidden any longer. For peace… and for other, far more personal matters, he needed to get to the bottom of this. Unfortunately, the king would not grant him permission to go into the Western province and search for hidden clues behind them.
Now he's stuck dealing with one incompetent warden after another. He could not kill the man, but at least he was able to let off some steam.
"Find the blindspots," Caelan ordered. "And block every part of it. If I have to lose another batch of men because of you, then I will forget about the tribute and those beasts won't be the only thing you have to worry about. Am I clear?"
The warden bobbed his head frantically, understanding that the young Duke was not a man who issued empty threats.
"Get him out of my sight," Caelan muttered, turning his chair away so he would not have to face the man and accidentally kill him.
Two of his knights stepped in. They grabbed the warden up by his arms and dragged him from the office.
Left alone, Caelan's gaze sharpened, something inhumane flashing across his eyes.
*********
Back in the fortress, Lilian had begun re-arranging the chamber the way she wanted.
She had considered waiting for her knees to heal properly first, but doing nothing also made her feel restless. She started by moving the heavy furniture to create space near the window, placed fresh linen of pale cream over her bed, and added a small cluster of candles to the side table.
She wondered if the space would be enough for her nook. It's not like anyone would be joining her for tea around here, and truly, the thought of being alone to herself eased her heart greatly.
A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. She turned just in time to see Lady Marianne sweep inside, trailed by her maid, Linda, who looked as though she had tried, and failed, to stop her.
"My Lady, you cannot simply–!"
"Don't touch me," Marianne snapped, not bothering to look at the maid. "Lay your lowly fingers on me and I'll make sure the Duke hears of it. Do you understand what I am saying?"
Linda froze, helpless. She glanced at Lilian, silently asking for forgiveness, but the young woman was anything but offended. She offered her a gentle, reassuring nod that made Linda aware she was fine with it.
"You may go," she said.
Linda bowed quickly, relief flooding her expression before she slipped out, leaving the two women alone in the newly softened chamber.
"You wish to see me?" Lilian began the conversation first, already aware it won't be a pleasant one.