Noble ranking

Arriving at the front courtyard of Terra Cordis, Cypher was immediately struck by the thick, cloying scent of roasted meat and spiced wine hanging in the cold night air. The distant hum of conversation spilled from beyond the palace entrance, a low murmur of noble voices blending with the crackling of nearby braziers.

Ahead, two imposing slabs of black steel stood slightly ajar, forming a doorway that barely resembled doors. Beyond them, blazing fire lanterns lined the grand hall, their flickering glow casting long, shifting shadows over marble floors. The entrance radiated both wealth and authority - an unspoken warning that only those of status belonged here.

The courtyard itself was lined with ornate carriages, their lacquered exteriors reflecting the light in glimmering strokes. Servants loitered nearby - some slumped against carriage wheels, others standing alert, their eyes darting over the guests with scrutiny. Even among the nobility, security remained tight.

A nearby carriage door creaked open.

Cypher's gaze flicked toward it as a thin, almost sickly-looking man stepped out. His brown waistcoat, though of fine material, was wrinkled and faintly stained. Under the lantern's glow, his sunken cheeks, blotchy skin, and yellowing eyes gave him the look of something that had spent far too long in dark, damp places. He moved with a nervous energy - quick, twitchy gestures, as though expecting a blow at any moment.

'Filthy. Cheap clothing. Uncomfortable with noble society.'

Cypher's mind ticked through observations with the efficiency of a ledger. The man bore an uncanny resemblance to certain reptile that slithered on the floor.

As if sensing the scrutiny, the man hurriedly slicked back his thinning hair, the gesture meant to feign confidence but only exposing his growing bald spot. His lips twitched into a practiced smile, oblivious to how wide or eager he looked.

They were both late. It would be more convenient to enter together.

The man wasted no time closing the distance, stretching out a thin, bony hand in greeting. His smile remained fixed, but there was a flicker of something behind his eyes - curiosity, or perhaps an attempt at calculation?

"Ahh, a new face. Always nice to see,"

His voice was hoarse, papery dry, cracking slightly on the last word.

"My name's Gunter. Lord Gunter."

Cypher met his grip firmly, feeling the pathetic attempt at a stronger squeeze - one of those weak, feeble displays of dominance that only worked on those too insecure to ignore them.

"Cypher. Cypher Ren."

He did not budge nor tighten his grip in return. There was no need. The moment their hands met, he could already tell - Gunter was not a Dreamweaver. Just another ordinary man, barely clinging to whatever power his title afforded him.

Gunter cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably as he withdrew his hand. For the briefest second, his expression shifted to uncertainty before the mask snapped back into place, his tone regaining its forced politeness.

"Ahem… So, Cypher… I noticed you didn't mention your noble rank. Perhaps you're a baron's son? Or, god forbid, I've failed to recognize a viscount's decendent?"

Cypher's smile widened slightly. The candlelight flickered in his eyes, carving sharp shadows across his face.

"I'm not noble. In fact… I'm a commoner."

There was a sharp intake of breath.

For a fraction of a second, Gunter's smile cracked. His lips twitched, as if considering whether he had misheard.

"A c-commoner?"

Cypher nodded, unbothered by the fleeting disgust that passed over the noble's features.

Why would he care? He had already gathered everything he needed to know about the man standing before him.

"Indeed, a commoner," Cypher admitted, voice level. "I was given the honor of entering under Vanderwald's invitation."

Gunter's expression froze - then, just as quickly, it melted away into something entirely different.

"V-Vanderwald!?" The shift in demeanor was instantaneous - as swift as a morning breeze turning into a storm. His disgust vanished, replaced by something resembling cautious enthusiasm. "Ah! Well, a friend of the Cardinal is a friend of mine!"

A forced chuckle, followed by an equally forced pat on Cypher's back, as if their conversation had suddenly become one of long time camaraderie.

"Come, come! I'm sure you're new here, so allow me to clue you in on how we nobles operate."

'He's trying to get on my good side.'

Cypher followed at an even pace, eyes half-lidded as he listened. The desperation in Gunter's voice was unmistakable. That could be useful.

"As you know," Gunter continued, "nobility is ranked by power and influence. First is Lord—nobles like me oversee the undercity, ensuring the peasants remain loyal to the Empire." His chin lifted slightly as he spoke, as if expecting admiration. "Without us, taxes wouldn't be collected. Society would crumble."

'So, a useless cog in the machine.'

Cypher's eyes widened slightly, feigning amazement. "I had no idea Lords were so important."

Gunter beamed, his chest puffing out with unearned pride.

"Indeed, indeed! However, above Lords are the Barons—they control middle-class districts, overseeing merchant taxes and trade fees. They also regulate access to the Dragon Array." Gunter's voice dropped slightly, and he icked his lips with desire before continuing.

"Above them are the Viscounts, who own portions of the high district estates and attractions. They often… receive incentives from lower nobles. An open secret, of course." His tone suggested amusement, though it was clear he wasn't joking.

"And then?" Cypher prompted expectedly, filing away every detail.

"Next, there are Dukes," Gunter said, his voice taking on a reverent tone. "Each Duke owns an entire city, with access to artifacts, resources, and a private legion of soldiers."

Cypher absorbed the information, storing it perfectly in his mind. The surroundings seemed to fade into the background as the hierarchy etched itself into his memory.

"But there's more, of course," Gunter added.

Cypher's gaze flicked to him. "Go on."

"Above Dukes are the Archdukes—they control entire regions of the Empire. They have the power to challenge imperial decrees, to launch private campaigns with church support. Only the Cardinal and the royal family outrank them."

For the first time since speaking, Gunter hesitated. His expression darkened slightly, as though realizing something.

At the same time, Cypher halted his steps.

A sudden gust of wind cut through the courtyard, followed by the sharp rush of wings.

From the darkness above, a silhouette plummeted, a blur of sleek black slicing through the air. It landed with a heavy thud on Cypher's outstretched arm, talons curling over his new coat with care.

Gunter stumbled back, eyes widening as he took in the massive raven now perched on Cypher's forearm.

The bird stared directly at him, its cold, Amber eyes reflecting the dim candlelight.

"Don't mind him," Cypher murmured, stroking the bird's head. "Rain doesn't like strangers."

"R-right!" Gunter forced a nervous laugh, but his voice wavered. He wasn't looking at Cypher anymore - he was looking at Rain.

And Rain was looking at him as if to stare directly into him.

Only after a few moments, did Gunter realise Cypher was also staring at him with that same detached faze. The yellow light in his eyes seemed to grow ever more impatient with each passing second,

Seconds that felt like an eternity to a Dreamweaver.

Gunter quickly realised his mistake, giving an apologetic smile in return and speaking up again ," I'm sorry, it seems I'll need to take my classes on Dreamweavers once again. Anyways, let's head in now, I'm sure you have more important things to do than talk to a Minor Lord."

"Well, perhaps you won't stay a Lord forever. The future is...unpredictable after all." Cypher simply walked ahead, leaving those words to fester inside Gunter's skull.

In politics, every word seemed to have a hidden meaning or silent threat. Left behind, Gunter felt something he had not felt in a long, long time.

Something akin to an opportunity.