Chapter 4: A Miscalculation

SERIS VITRA'S POV:

The next day, I stepped through the portal directly from my estate in Sehz-Clar, emerging inside Taegrin Caelum, the heart of the Vritra Clan's power. The transition was seamless, but the weight of where I now stood settled heavily on my shoulders. 

Taegrin Caelum, a massive castle, was an architectural marvel, but its grandeur was tainted by the grotesque decorations that adorned its halls. The walls were lined with the remains of defeated asuras—dragon scales gleaming dully in the dim light, the severed arms of pantheons mounted like trophies, feathers from sylphs hanging like macabre curtains. The presence of a phoenix's blazing plume, titan bones, leviathan teeth, and hamadryad branches, only added to the ominous atmosphere. 

This castle, nestled behind the treacherous Basilisk's Fang Mountains in the heart of the Central Dominion, was a constant reminder of the power and cruelty of the Vritra Clan. Every inch of Taegrin Caelum seemed to pulse with the lingering energy of those who had been conquered, their remnants now serving as grim ornaments to the Vritra's might. 

"Welcome, Scythe Seris!" a voice echoed through the grand hall as I stepped forward. The greeting was formal, almost detached, yet laced with the weight of expectation that came with my title.

I acknowledged the greeting with a slight nod, my expression calm and composed. The weight of my title hung in the air, a reminder of the power dynamics that governed this place. Without pausing, I addressed the nearest attendant, my voice cutting through the silence.

"Have the other Scythes arrived?" I asked, my tone steady but carrying an undercurrent of authority.

The attendant, still bowed, responded quickly, "Yes, Scythe Seris. The others have already arrived and will be gathered in the main hall when the High Sovereign calls."

I nodded, absorbing the information. The gathering of all Scythes in Taegrin Caelum was a rare occurrence, one that signaled something significant was about to unfold. 

I dismissed the attendants with a curt nod, signaling that I no longer required their presence. As they quietly retreated, I made my way through the castle's corridors, each step resonating with the weight of the impending gathering. The thought of what might be discussed lingered in my mind, but I pushed it aside, focusing instead on my destination.

The chamber I was given when I was appointed Scythe of Sehz-Clar twelve years ago remained unchanged. The door, made from a dark, polished wood, opened silently as I entered. The room was as I remembered it—sparse, yet elegant in its simplicity. It was designed for utility rather than comfort, reflecting the nature of my role.

I moved to the large window that overlooked the vast expanse of the Basilisk's Fang Mountains. The jagged peaks, shrouded in mist, served as a reminder of the Vritra Clan's dominion and the challenges that lay beyond. It was a view I had seen countless times, yet it never failed to stir a sense of aspiration within me.

As I stood there, I allowed myself a brief moment of reflection, knowing that whatever awaited us in the main hall would demand my full attention and resolve. The High Sovereign's ability to read a person's emotions as easily as one might read an open book was always present in my mind. Any slip in control could be exploited, and any hint of doubt or fear could be used against me. I could not afford such vulnerability, not now, not ever

After about half an hour, I heard a knock on my door, breaking the stillness of the room.

"Enter," I called out, my voice steady and composed.

The door creaked open, and an attendant stepped inside, bowing deeply before speaking. "Scythe Seris, the High Sovereign has summoned all the Scythes to the hall. The gathering is about to begin."

I gave a curt nod, acknowledging the message. "I will be there shortly, You can go now."

The attendant bowed deeply before retreating, leaving me alone once more in the quiet of my chamber. I took a final glance out the window at the imposing Basilisk's Fang Mountains, letting the image imprint itself in my mind.

Gathering my thoughts, I straightened my robes and prepared myself mentally for the encounter ahead. With a steady breath, I made my way to the meeting hall, my footsteps echoing softly against the cold stone floors of Taegrin Caelum.

The halls of Taegrin Caelum were an imposing sight, with its high ceilings and the flickering glow of torchlight casting long shadows along the walls. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to be cut with a blade. As I stepped inside, the atmosphere seemed to grow even heavier, charged with the presence of those who had gathered.

Scythe Dragoth was the first to catch my eye. His towering frame was as intimidating as ever even while sitting, his broad shoulders squared, and his expression unreadable, save for the brief flash of hostility in his dark eyes as they met mine. 

It was no secret that Dragoth and I had often found ourselves at odds, not only because of the war between Sehz-Clar and Vechor but also because of our differing methods and philosophies. He quickly averted his gaze, returning his focus to the center of the room, where we would soon be joined by the High Sovereign.

Viessa and Melzri were seated side by side, their contrasting appearances striking. Viessa, with her flowing robes, exuded an air of grace and precision, her gaze sharp and assessing as she acknowledged my presence with a slight nod. Melzri, on the other hand, was in stark contrast with her pale complexion and hauntingly calm demeanor, her yellowish-white dress making her appear almost spectral.

It has not been more than 3 years since they were appointed as Scythe. Despite their stark differences, the bond they shared was well-known, forged long before their Vritra blood awakened. Their close relationship was almost like that of sisters, a rare connection in the often cutthroat world of the Vritra Clan. 

And then there was Cadell, the most enigmatic figure in the room. Appointed as a Scythe five years ago, his official title was a mere formality. In truth, Cadell had been High Sovereign Agrona's private enforcer for over two decades. His loyalty to the High Sovereign was unquestionable, and his skills were unmatched, even among us Scythes. 

I took my seat between Cadell and Melzri, the tension in the room palpable as we awaited the arrival of the High Sovereign. Moments later, the doors at the far end of the hall swung open, and Agrona entered.

"Ah, we are finally all here," Agrona's voice echoed through the hall, accompanied by a too-wide smile. He was dressed formally in black and gold, the intricate ornaments in his horns catching the light and twinkling like distant stars. At his entrance, everyone in the room stood up, bowing their heads in unison.

"All my mighty Scythes together, huh?" He continued, arms spreading wide as if to embrace the room. His tone was casual, almost playful, but there was an underlying edge that none of us missed. "Well then, let's begin the meeting, shall we?"

Agrona's casual demeanor didn't mask the gravity of what he revealed next. "While I was deep in my chamber, researching the complexities of reincarnation," he began, his tone still light but with a growing undercurrent of seriousness, "there was... an unexpected development."

He paused, letting the tension build before continuing. "One of the souls meant to serve as an anchor, escaped." His voice hardened slightly. "Perhaps a miscalculation on my part. These anchors, as you know, are souls with deep ties to their legacy, essential for creating a suitable vessel for her reincarnation."

A flicker of irritation crossed his features before he regained his composure. "The good news is that the second anchor was successfully reincarnated in the chosen vessel. However," his gaze swept across us, "during this time, my dear wife, Sylvia Indrath, managed to escape from the castle."

The room seemed to grow colder as Agrona's eyes narrowed. "Cadell," he said, turning his attention to the Scythe beside me, "was tasked with finding her. After three years of relentless searching, he finally did."

There was a pause, and Agrona's voice dropped to a lower, more dangerous tone. "Unfortunately, she was almost dead when he found her."

Dragoth, his voice gruff, was the first to break the heavy silence that followed Agrona's revelation. "How did she die?" His question hung in the air, echoing the thoughts of everyone present.

Agrona's gaze shifted to Dragoth, his expression unreadable. "As she fled, Sylvia was indeed attacked by the wraiths guarding her," he confirmed, his tone measured.

Viessa, ever the inquisitive one, interjected, "But she was a dragon, a being of immense power. The wraiths, while formidable, shouldn't have been able to end her life so easily."

Agrona's eyes narrowed slightly as he nodded. "You're correct. The wraiths' attacks alone would not have been sufficient. The true reason for her death lies elsewhere." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in before continuing, "Sylvia's death was not a simple matter of wounds. It was excessive use of Aether with her damaged body." 

Agrona's gaze lingered on each of us, ensuring the lesson was understood before he continued, "Now then, Cadell seems to have found something interesting, would you care to explain?"

All eyes shifted to Cadell, who remained composed under the weight of our collective attention. He nodded slightly before speaking, his voice calm and measured. "When I finally tracked Lady Sylvia down, she was on the brink of death, as you know. However, what was unexpected was that she was not alone. She had a child with her, a boy who appeared to be around four years old."

A ripple of surprise moved through the room. Melzri, her curiosity piqued, leaned forward slightly and asked the question on everyone's mind. "Was the child hers and the High Sovereign's?"

Agrona's expression remained unreadable as he responded, "No. Our child is still an egg, and it will not hatch for at least another two years." His tone was firm, leaving no room for doubt. "When I examined Sylvia's core, I found something disturbing—there was no trace of her will inside it. And I believe that before her death, Sylvia transferred her will—and possibly our child, still in its egg—to the boy. This would explain why she guarded him, even in her weakened state."

The room fell into a heavy silence as the implications of Agrona's theory took hold. The idea that Sylvia, a dragon of immense power and a being of Indrath's bloodline, would entrust her will and the future of her unborn child to a mere boy was staggering.

Finally, I spoke, unable to keep the question from forming. "Why would Lady Sylvia give her child to someone else, a child who is not of her blood?"

Agrona's eyes flickered with something that might have been approval, though his expression remained inscrutable. "An excellent question, Seris." His voice was laced with a hint of appreciation, but I remained unfazed, his praise meaning little to me.

Agrona continued, his voice cold and calculating. "Sylvia was desperate. Perhaps she believed that by placing her will and our child in the care of this boy, she could protect them from the fate that awaited them here. Or perhaps she saw something in him—something important." 

Agrona leaned back slightly, a cunning smile playing on his lips. "Which leads me to a theory," he said, his tone almost casual, but laced with underlying tension. "I believe this boy may be the reincarnation of King Grey, the very soul of the anchor that escaped. It seems likely that, by some twist of fate, it ended up in Dicathen and found its way to Sylvia."