The King’s Enforcer

The fortress had become a tomb.

Where once the halls rang with the steady march of disciplined soldiers, there was now only silence. Where there had once been unity, now there was only isolation.

Men walked the corridors with their hands close to their weapons, flinching at the sound of footsteps behind them. Conversations were hushed, whispers traded only in shadows, out of earshot of anyone who might be listening. Every glance was suspicious. Every movement watched.

The trust that had once bound the Order together had rotted away, leaving only fractured pieces of what once was.

Veylan moved through the stronghold like a phantom, his presence unsettling even those who had once followed him without question. He could feel the tension in the air, thick as a noose, choking the very foundation of what remained.

A group of soldiers passed him in the hallway, their postures stiff, their gazes darting away the moment his eyes met theirs.

Weak.