Invasion of the Palace [3]

Mirak broke the silence, his voice low. "We'll need a plan."

Lock hummed, leaning against the wall. "And what exactly do you have in mind? We know what Lancelot wants, but..."

"That wasn't what I meant," Mirak replied sharply.

Lock raised an eyebrow, gesturing for him to continue. "Do tell, then. Enlighten us."

Mirak stopped in his tracks, his gaze dropping to the floor. "The Ten," he said quietly. "They'll be in the Palace. We need to prepare for that."

Kord, who had been idly plucking at a loose thread on his sleeve, straightened. "Agreed. The Ten won't be a group we can take lightly. We'll need contingencies."

Lock let out a dry laugh, though his eyes darted nervously around the dim hallway. "Contingencies? Against the Ten? A Palace that size, with any luck, we won't even run into them."

"It won't be that easy," Mirak muttered. "We have no idea what kind of abilities they have. The Ten could hold a variety of powers, some we've never even seen."

Kord tapped his temple thoughtfully. "Alright, then. What's the plan if we do run into one of them?"

Mirak sighed, glancing at Kord. "Your Augur abilities might be our best chance."

A faint smile played on Kord's lips, and he scratched the side of his neck. "The Essence I use does more than just connect people's minds. It's a thread, tying thoughts together. Most of the time, I just tug at it—surface thoughts, stray intentions, that sort of thing. But there's more. Or so Lancelot says."

He reached out, mimicking the motion of plucking a string. "The stronger an Augur is, the deeper they can go. Some can even see glimpses of the future. But... when someone hides something, the thread tightens. It's harder to pull, and they'll feel it if I try to dive in."

Lock smirked. "What am I thinking about right now?"

Kord didn't miss a beat. "That the Palace is impossible to break into."

Lock dropped his finger, grumbling under his breath, while Kord chuckled. "It's been a long time since I've had thoughts to myself. Some days, I almost forget what silence feels like."

The amusement faded from his face, replaced by a faint shadow of something darker. "It's the burden I bear. Ever since my mother died..."

Mirak's frustration finally boiled over. "All of this is my fault," he said, his voice tight.

Lock placed a hand on his shoulder. "Mirak, you can't blame yourself for what happened with the Fell."

"Why not?" Mirak snapped, shrugging off Lock's hand.

"You couldn't have known—"

"Like I didn't know the boat would burn?" Mirak interrupted. His voice cracked, the weight of guilt pressing down on him. "Like I was so important that nothing bad could happen to me?" He laughed bitterly. "What a lie."

Lock started to speak, but Mirak cut him off again. "I was a student back then. A scholar, full of promise. And look at me now." His voice dropped to a whisper. "One year and ten months. That's how long it's been since my best friends died."

His hands clenched into fists, trembling. "I still see it in my nightmares. Akash pushing me out of the way, Daenys's face twisted in fear as the flames consumed the boat. It's always there. Always."

"It wasn't your fault," Lock said gently, though the words felt hollow.

"No," Mirak hissed. "It was. I cracked the resin. I knew it was dangerous. I knew it was the only way to become a Harmony user. And I let them die for it."

Silence hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Mirak's voice dropped even lower. "Their deaths are on my hands. Daenys' sarcasm, Akash's stupid, brilliant grin—it's all gone because of me. And you want to know the truth? I'm a coward. Too afraid to die."

Kord's voice broke the quiet, soft but steady. "Slavers always circle the battlefields of Estil and Astad, looking for survivors to drag off. That's how you ended up here. And somehow, you lived."

Mirak let out a bitter chuckle. "What I wouldn't give to see those bastards again."

"But you're still here," Kord said. "And no matter what you think of yourself, I don't want to lose anyone else either. Not you, Mirak. Not Lock. Not anyone."

He gestured down the hallway. "Let's get out of here. This is no time for regrets. If tonight is our last night together, we should spend it right."

Mirak raised an eyebrow. "Where are we going?"

"To find Selene and Volim," Kord said with a faint smile. "She's probably pestering him as we speak. Let's have one last drink. All of us."

As they walked, Kord began to speak. His tone was lighter, though the weight of his words was clear. "Before the Revenant, I was... naive."

Mirak and Lock listened in silence as Kord continued. "I had a family. A merchant and a maid adopted my sister and me. We were happy for a while, even though our parents were always busy. My sister took care of me. She was everything to me."

His voice softened, tinged with a bittersweet nostalgia. "We were playing in the Fifth District one day. Knights and maidens, like we always did. I wasn't paying attention, ran into the street. A carriage came out of nowhere, and... she pushed me out of the way."

He stopped walking, his shoulders stiff. "I froze. I couldn't even scream. And then she was gone. Her blood stained my new clothes. I can still see it."

Mirak swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. Kord's voice dropped to a whisper. "I was angry. Sad. Alone. I reached out, desperate to keep her with me, and something answered. For a moment, I touched her soul. But it slipped away. I couldn't hold on."

Lock grunted. "Let me guess. A noble was in the carriage?"

"They didn't even stop," Kord said bitterly. "Just kept going. After that, I ran. A strange boy, cursed with knowledge he didn't want. Then Volim found me, told me I was special, and brought me to the Revenant. He gave me a new family."

He glanced at Lock. "And you? We've bared our souls. What about you?"

Lock hesitated, blowing on his nails. "Nothing as tragic as that," he said lightly. "I met a woman. We fell in love. And she... left."

Mirak folded his arms. "Lock. You're a Silvermark with no real story about joining? I'll believe that when I see it."

Lock sighed, pulling a thin roll of resin flakes from his pocket. "Fine. I wanted out of the Silvermarks. Did my last job. Impossible contract. Everyone else died, but I made it. Came back ready to start fresh."

He lit the resin, inhaling deeply before continuing. "She was there, waiting for me in the rain. Said we were free. Then she stabbed me in the back and left me to bleed out."

The silence was heavy again, though Lock seemed unfazed. "Slavers found me, tossed me in the mines. Thought I'd die. But here I am."

They arrived at their destination, Selene's voice carrying through the door. "Volim, come on! It'll be fun!"

Inside, they found Selene clinging to Volim, who looked thoroughly unimpressed. "Get off me," Volim grumbled, elbowing her aside.

Kord laughed, "Always so grumpy, Volim."

Selene beamed at them. "Perfect timing. One last drink before the heist!"

The night stretched on, filled with laughter, stories, and the camaraderie of thieves bound by a shared cause. Tomorrow, they would face the unknown, but for now, they had each other.