Dinner

The dining hall was smaller than Elara would have liked, but it suited the remote outpost's needs. A single long table dominated the room, its surface worn and scratched from years of use. Lanterns hung from the wooden beams above, casting a warm but uneven glow over the space. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread, but the atmosphere remained tense.

Elara sat at the head of the table, her silver hair catching the lantern light as it fell over her shoulders. Her posture was straight, her hands clasped lightly in front of her, but her sharp eyes darted toward the door every so often, as if expecting trouble to walk in at any moment. Trouble, of course, had already arrived.

Aetterus Voss strode into the hall, his patchwork robes a cacophony of mismatched colors that somehow seemed to suit him perfectly. Trinkets jingled softly from his belt as he moved, his hazel eyes scanning the room before locking onto Elara. His smirk widened as he approached, the picture of relaxed confidence.

"Ah, Elara," he greeted, spreading his arms in a mock display of grandeur. "It's been far too long since we've shared a meal, hasn't it?"

Elara's lips pressed into a thin line, but she gestured toward the seat across from her. "Sit, Aetterus. We don't have all night."

"Oh, but we should," he replied, sliding into the chair with a flourish. "After all, it's not every day I get to dine with the radiant Elara Windwhisper herself."

She raised an unimpressed brow, leaning back slightly. "Flattery doesn't suit you, Aetterus. Let's skip the pleasantries."

Aetterus chuckled, resting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together. "And here I thought a woman of your caliber might appreciate a little admiration. You know, you really should smile more often. It suits you."

Elara's expression didn't falter. "If you're here to waste my time, I'm sure there are better places for you to do it."

"Waste your time? Elara, I'm hurt." Aetterus placed a hand over his chest as if wounded, though the playful glint in his eyes remained. "I'm simply pointing out what everyone else is too afraid to say: you're an extraordinary woman, and it's a shame you spend so much of your time pretending otherwise."

Elara's gaze didn't waver, though her fingers tightened slightly where they rested on the table. "You're insufferable."

"Insufferable? Or endearing?" Aetterus leaned forward slightly, his smirk deepening. "It's a fine line, my dear, and I've made it my life's work to walk it with style."

Elara sighed, shaking her head. "If you're done, I suggest we move on to matters of actual importance."

"But of course," Aetterus said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. "Though I must say, Elara, your determination is as striking as your beauty. A rare combination indeed."

"Another word, and you'll be eating alone," she said flatly, though there was a faint flicker of amusement in her eyes.

Aetterus raised his hands in mock surrender. "As you wish, guild mistress. I'm all ears."

Elara leaned forward, her eyes locking onto Aetterus with an intensity that could cut through steel. "Enough riddles, Aetterus. We're running out of time, and you know it. If you have information, you need to share it. Now."

Aetterus's smirk remained, but there was a flicker of something sharper behind his hazel eyes. "Patience, Elara. A good story unfolds at its own pace. But very well… where shall we begin? Ah, yes. The Sins."

She didn't respond, her steady gaze urging him on.

"Let's see," he began, reclining slightly in his chair, his voice laced with theatricality. "Envy is no longer among us—poor, tragic Berethia. Wrath, on the other hand… well, Wrath has always been adept at staying hidden until they explode. Quite the spectacle, really. Greed… always scheming, always taking more than their fair share. I wonder what they've been up to lately. And Gluttony? Likely indulging in their vices somewhere suitably dark and disgusting."

"And Lust?" Elara pressed, her voice sharp.

"Ah, Lust," Aetterus said, his smile taking on a knowing edge. "Rumors abound. A girl, wandering the night, radiating danger and desire in equal measure. But who can say for sure? Lust has a way of… slipping through the cracks."

Elara's expression didn't waver, though her jaw tightened slightly. "And Pride?"

"Pride," Aetterus repeated, his tone almost reverent. "The most fascinating of all, wouldn't you agree? Always so composed, so confident. Yet they're the hardest to find. You'd think their arrogance would make them obvious, but no. Pride hides in plain sight. Quite the talent, wouldn't you say?"

Elara's eyes narrowed, but she didn't interrupt.

"As for Sloth," he continued, his tone lightening, "well, who knows? Perhaps they're napping under a tree somewhere, waiting for the world to crumble around them."

"And Changra?" Elara's voice softened slightly, though her gaze didn't lose its intensity. "What is he, Aetterus? A Sin? Or something worse?"

Aetterus's smirk widened, though his eyes remained guarded. "Changra… Now, that is the question, isn't it? A boy from another world, wielding chaos like it's second nature. Is he a Sin? Perhaps. Or perhaps he's something far more… unpredictable."

Elara's fingers tapped against the table, her frustration barely contained. "You speak in circles. We need answers, not riddles."

"Ah, but riddles are so much more fun, don't you think?" Aetterus replied, his tone laced with amusement. "But fine, Elara. If it's answers you want, here's one: Changra is a force of nature. Whether that makes him a Sin or something entirely new is yet to be seen. But one thing is certain—he's dangerous."

Her fingers stilled, and her voice dropped lower. "And the Crimson King? Is he real, or just another myth?"

For the first time, Aetterus's smirk faltered, replaced by a thoughtful expression. "The Crimson King… now there's a name I haven't heard in some time. Rumors, whispers, shadows on the edge of perception. Is he real? Perhaps. But if he is, I suspect we'll all find out soon enough."

Elara leaned back slightly, her gaze never leaving him. "And the Crimson Dominion? The group forming in the East—are they connected to him?"

"Ah, the Dominion," Aetterus said, his smirk returning. "Ambitious, aren't they? Rallying forces, spreading their influence. But whether they're connected to the Crimson King or simply inspired by his legend… well, that remains to be seen."

She studied him for a long moment, the silence between them heavy. "You know more than you're letting on."

"Perhaps," he admitted with a shrug. "But then again, so do you."

Before she could reply, he leaned forward, his hazel eyes glinting with a mixture of mischief and something deeper. "Tell me, Elara. Why do you care so much? Is it because of your guild? Your people? Or is it something else? Something… personal?"

Her expression hardened, and she stood abruptly. "This isn't about me. It's about the world, Aetterus. And if you can't see that, then you're more useless than I thought."

Aetterus laughed softly, rising to his feet as well. "Oh, Elara, always so serious. It's what makes you so fascinating."

"Save your flattery," she snapped. "If you have nothing useful to say, then stay out of my way."

"Useful?" he echoed, his smirk widening. "Oh, my dear Elara, I am always useful. You just have to know how to ask."

Her glare could have cut through steel, but she didn't reply. Instead, she turned and walked toward the door, her steps quick and deliberate.

"Don't be a stranger!" Aetterus called after her, his voice dripping with mock sincerity.

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving him alone in the dimly lit hall. His smirk lingered, but his eyes grew distant as he murmured to himself, "Changra… the Crimson King… the Sins. What a delightful puzzle."

Aetterus lingered at the table, his fingertips drumming a thoughtful rhythm against the worn wood. The smirk he had donned for Elara faded, replaced by a calculating expression. Alone in the dim light, he muttered softly, his voice carrying a sinister weight.

"Changra, Changra, Changra…" he mused, leaning back in his chair. "Or should I say… Chaos. What a delightful little enigma you are."

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, intricately carved stone. Its surface shimmered faintly in the candlelight, pulsing as if it had a heartbeat of its own. Aetterus studied it, his hazel eyes narrowing as the faint glow reflected on his face.

"Envy's gone now, tucked neatly into your chaos, feeding that delightful storm inside of you. But you… you're wasting away. Sleeping like a dull, broken thing. No, no, no. That won't do at all."

He twirled the stone between his fingers, its pulse quickening in response. "Elara thinks she can keep you locked away, contained, restrained by her little spells and walls. Foolish. They don't see the masterpiece waiting to be unleashed. But I do."

Standing abruptly, Aetterus began pacing the room, his thoughts spilling out in a low murmur. "What would it take, I wonder? What would wake you? A whisper? A push? Or something more dramatic?"

He stopped in front of a large, cracked mirror mounted on the wall. His reflection gazed back at him, hazel eyes glowing faintly, his smirk returning as he addressed himself. "The dagger already has its claws in you, my dear Changra. A bond like that is… unbreakable. And yet, it's not enough to wake you."

His eyes flicked back to the stone in his hand, his smirk twisting into something more devious. "Perhaps what you need is a reminder. A taste of the chaos you embody. Something to fan the flames and let the world see just what you are."

Aetterus's laughter filled the empty room, low and chilling. He turned back to the table, placing the stone carefully in the center as if setting the first piece of a grand game. "Patience, my boy. Your time is coming. And when you wake, oh, how the world will tremble."

He strode toward the door, his colorful patchwork coat billowing behind him. "But first… let's see what strings I can pull to make it happen."

The door creaked shut behind him, leaving the faintly glowing stone alone on the table, its rhythmic pulse casting shifting shadows on the walls.