Chapter 12 The Summon

Silva had his nose buried deep in a sea of reports, each one more cryptic than the last. His desk was littered with scrolls, maps, and hand-written accounts of sightings. He was combing through the details with his usual diligence, but a sense of frustration gnawed at him. The cloaked man, a mysterious figure rallying commoners and lower-class nobility to some unspoken cause, had become a thorn in the side of the Empire. But despite his growing influence, there was still no clarity on where he was hiding or what he hoped to achieve.

This elusive figure had proven difficult to track. The reports suggested that he moved quickly, often vanishing into the shadows before anyone could get close. Silva had spent hours speaking with informants, cross-referencing reports, but nothing seemed to point to a specific location. His reasons, too, remained unclear.

As he stared at the scattered papers on his desk, his thoughts turned back to the cloaked man's strange ability to organize and rally others. The man wasn't just a rogue bandit; he was building something. Silva could feel it—the weight of a growing movement. But what was the endgame? And why the secrecy?

Suddenly, the door to his office flung open, pulling Silva from his thoughts. Marcus strode in, his face a mask of urgency.

"Silva," Marcus said, his voice low but insistent. "The Emperor has summoned you. It's urgent."

Silva raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp. "The Emperor? For what?"

"I don't know yet, but it's important. Get ready. We're going to the palace now."

Silva sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He had hoped to make more headway with the reports, but he wasn't about to turn down a summons from the Emperor himself. Especially when it likely had to do with the ongoing investigation into the cloaked man. Silva grabbed his cloak and followed Marcus out of the office without another word.

The palace loomed ahead, its grandeur enough to make even the most hardened soldiers pause. Silva had been to the palace before, of course, but each visit felt as imposing as the first. As they approached the gates, a familiar face greeted them—a towering woman with a booming laugh and a demeanor that seemed too warm for the often stern halls of the palace.

"Silva!" Frey exclaimed, enveloping him in a hug that threatened to crush his ribs. "It's been too long!"

Frey was Marcus's older sister, a woman of impressive size and strength. Her arms were as thick as tree trunks, and she could probably bench press most of the men in the army with ease. But despite her physical prowess, she had a loud, affectionate personality that stood in stark contrast to Marcus's quieter, more reserved nature.

"Frey, good to see you," Silva said with a small laugh as he patted her on the back.

She grinned widely, letting him go and stepping back to study him. "You've been looking too serious lately, Corporal. What's on your mind?"

Silva chuckled. "I've just been busy, that's all."

Behind her stood the headmaster of the academy, Lowen Bast, a man of few words but sharp intellect. The headmaster was shorter than Frey, thin and wiry, with the kind of quiet presence that suggested his mind was always working, always calculating. Silva respected the man immensely, though they had never spoken much beyond the essentials.

"Headmaster," Silva greeted with a nod.

The headmaster acknowledged him with a slight, silent nod in return. The man's eyes flicked to Frey, and Silva couldn't help but notice the subtle tension in the air. The two had never seemed to get along—Frey's boisterousness and the headmaster's quiet nature often clashed, but the tension was usually kept in check.

"You both look serious," Silva remarked, sensing that something was off. "What's going on?"

Frey's expression shifted, her usual warmth giving way to a more somber look. "We've been summoned by the Emperor," she said, her voice dropping in pitch. "It's about the cloaked man."

Silva's stomach tightened. The cloaked man was the one thorn in their side they couldn't seem to get rid of. If the Emperor was getting involved, it could only mean things were escalating.

"What about him?" Silva asked, his mind already racing.

Frey glanced at the headmaster, who gestured for her to continue.

"We don't have all the details yet," she said, her voice serious. "But the Emperor has a plan, and it involves you, Silva."

Before Silva could respond, Marcus finally spoke up, his usual quiet tone now carrying an edge of concern. "This is no ordinary mission, Silva. Whatever the Emperor is planning... it's bigger than anything we've dealt with so far."

With no time to waste, they entered the palace, moving quickly through the halls. The air was thick with tension, and Silva could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him. As they made their way to the forum chambers, Silva couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just another routine assignment. The cloaked man wasn't simply a nuisance anymore—he was becoming a threat to the entire Empire.

The forum chambers were a large, circular room, the walls adorned with tapestries of the kingdom's most important events. Several high-ranking officials were already present, and Silva couldn't help but notice the serious expressions on their faces. There were no smiles here, no light-hearted chatter. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something.

The Emperor entered shortly after, his presence commanding attention. He was tall, his regal attire befitting his status, his face set in a stern, calculating expression. The room fell silent as the Emperor took his place at the head of the table.

"Thank you all for coming," he began, his voice strong and unwavering. "We have a matter of great importance to discuss."

Silva leaned forward, listening intently. This was it. The cloaked man was no longer just a puzzle to solve—he was now the Empire's greatest threat.

"We have reason to believe that the cloaked man is not only rallying the commoners," the Emperor continued, his gaze sweeping the room. "But he is also gathering the lower-class nobility to his cause. His influence is spreading faster than we anticipated."

A murmur of concern rippled through the room, but the Emperor silenced it with a single gesture.

"We cannot let this continue," he said. "I have a special mission for you, Silva." He turned his attention directly to Silva, his eyes intense. "I need you to investigate the man's movement, discover his plans, and report back. Do whatever it takes to uncover the truth."

Silva nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities. "Understood. But I'll need more than just orders. I'll need resources."

The Emperor gave a small nod, as if expecting this response. He turned to one of his advisors, a man who Silva didn't recognise.

"We've arranged for an inventor to provide the necessary tools for the mission," the advisor said. "Weapons, transport, whatever you need."

"An inventor?" Silva asked, intrigued. "Who?"

Before the advisor could respond, Frey cut in. "It's a woman."

The room fell silent. Silva blinked in surprise. "A woman?" One of the ministers asked in disbelief. "I thought inventors were men."

Frey's smile widened. "You'd be surprised. She's brilliant, from what I hear. They call her the Queen of Cogs."

The mention of a female inventor was unusual enough to catch Silva's attention. He'd heard rumours of women dabbling in invention, but most of them were either just for hobby or just making life easier.

"What kind of inventions are we talking about?" Silva asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Everything," Frey answered, her tone taking on a hint of admiration. "Weapons, transport, gadgets—you name it. She's creating things that even the Empire hasn't seen before."

Marcus, who had remained mostly quiet, spoke up. "She's an interesting one. Doesn't take kindly to being underestimated. But she gets results."

Silva couldn't help but smile at the thought of someone so capable. The mission was starting to take shape, but he still had more questions than answers.

"We'll meet her soon," the Emperor said, breaking the silence. "In the meantime, prepare yourselves. We're dealing with something far more dangerous than we initially thought."

With that, the meeting continued, and Silva's thoughts shifted back to the cloaked man. The pieces were starting to fall into place. But now, it seemed, the real battle was just beginning.