28 - Shadows in the Dark

A Few Weeks Ago…

The underground chamber beneath Duke Alaric's estate was dimly lit, the flickering torches casting long shadows across the stone walls. It was here that Veynal, the First Shadow, gathered with his subordinates. The air was thick with quiet tension as five figures knelt before him, awaiting his orders.

Veynal's cold gaze swept across them. These were his finest operatives, each skilled in deception, assassination, and the art of information warfare.

"The time has come," he announced, his voice smooth yet edged with finality. "Duke Alaric's plan is in motion. We are to eliminate Lord Cedric's scouts and the Esmoran spies lurking near the estate. The pieces must be set before the first move is played."

One of the kneeling figures, a wiry man with a scar across his chin, spoke first. "The scouts continue to send reports to Lord Cedric. We have been intercepting them as ordered, but their presence near Aldric is becoming more than just an inconvenience."

Veynal nodded. "It is time to make them disappear."

A woman to his left, her face hidden beneath the dark hood of her uniform, asked, "And the Esmoran spies?"

Veynal's lips curled slightly. "Their presence is… unexpected. Unlike Cedric's men, they do not seem to be focused on the young lord. Their interest lies elsewhere—Seraphina and Caelum."

The room fell silent for a moment. Those two names had been whispered like ghosts in the underground network of spies and informants. Even the Shadows, despite their vast web of intelligence, had failed to track them down.

"Regardless," Veynal continued, "we will use their presence to our advantage. The Duke wishes to manipulate events without drawing attention to his own hand. We will stage a conflict—one that will force Lord Cedric into action."

The scarred man smirked. "You mean we make Cedric think the Esmorans are after his men?"

Veynal gave a slow nod. "Precisely. Kill the scouts, intercept their next message, and replace it with false information. Let Cedric believe his men clashed with Esmoran spies. Give him a reason to retaliate."

The hooded woman tilted her head. "And if the Esmorans catch on?"

Veynal's eyes gleamed. "Then we remind them why the Shadows are feared."

With a wave of his hand, the five operatives dispersed into the darkness.

The operation began that very night.

A cold wind howled through the trees as two of Lord Cedric's scouts set up camp in the dense forest near Aldric's borders. Their small fire flickered weakly, barely illuminating their faces as they prepared their next report.

One of the scouts, a man in his late thirties with a thick beard, held up a rolled parchment. "We've got nothing new to report. Same movements. Same patrols."

His companion, a younger man with sharp eyes, sighed. "Cedric's going to lose his patience soon. We've been watching this place for weeks, and there's been no real sign of treachery."

"We don't question orders," the older man reminded him, securing the parchment to the leg of a trained messenger bird.

The bird cooed softly as it prepared to take flight—

A shadow moved.

There was no warning, no sound, only a blur of motion as a figure emerged from the darkness. A blade flashed, slicing through the air, and the young scout gasped as blood spilled from his throat.

The older scout barely had time to reach for his weapon before another figure descended from the trees, their dagger slipping between his ribs with deadly precision.

He gasped, eyes wide in horror. "Shadows…"

Then, silence.

The Shadows worked quickly, dragging the bodies into position and splattering blood onto the parchment before swapping it with their carefully crafted false report. The message now stated that Cedric's men had discovered Esmoran spies and had engaged them in combat.

To complete the deception, one of the Shadows gently coated the messenger bird's feathers with blood, making it appear as if it had escaped a violent skirmish.

With a soft whisper, the bird was released, vanishing into the night sky.

"Phase one is complete," the scarred man muttered.

Veynal, watching from the trees, gave a satisfied nod. "Prepare the next step. The real battle begins soon."

Meanwhile, a second team of Shadows stalked their true prey—the Esmoran spies.

Unlike Cedric's men, these operatives were no amateurs. They moved with an eerie silence, blending seamlessly into the terrain. Their focus was solely on tracking down Seraphina and Caelum.

For days, the Shadows observed them, gathering valuable information. Unlike Cedric's men, the Esmorans had no interest in Aldric's defenses. They were solely fixated on their targets.

But tonight, their mission would end.

Hidden in the treetops, the Shadows watched as an Esmoran spy crouched near a clearing, carefully scanning the area. His sharp eyes flickered to movement in the distance.

He didn't see the dagger until it was already buried in his back.

A second Esmoran turned, barely registering his comrade's death before a garrote wrapped around his throat, choking the life out of him.

Within moments, the Shadows had struck down half their targets.

But the Esmorans weren't fools. The survivors immediately realized the attack wasn't Cedric's doing—it was something far deadlier.

A whistle cut through the air, a pre-arranged signal. The remaining Esmoran spies scattered into the night, evading the Shadows' pursuit.

Veynal stepped forward from the darkness, watching them disappear. "Interesting," he murmured. "More than half survived."

The scarred man grunted. "They're better than Cedric's dogs, I'll give them that."

Veynal smirked. "It only makes our ruse more believable."

The bodies of the slain spies were swiftly moved to the staged battlefield, placed strategically beside Cedric's fallen scouts. Blood was smeared, footprints carefully arranged to sell the illusion of a violent skirmish.

Now, all that remained was the final act.

The false tracks and subtle clues were left behind, leading both Cedric's forces and the Esmoran spies toward the trap.

When Cedric and his men arrived at the scene, their anger was immediate. The sight of their fallen scouts, alongside Esmoran spies, ignited rage and suspicion.

Cedric's voice was cold with fury. "Those bastards dare strike at my men?!"

One of his captains knelt by the corpses. "It appears they fought to the death, my lord."

Cedric clenched his fists. "Then we retaliate."

The Esmorans, drawn by their own suspicions, arrived shortly after. The moment they spotted Cedric's forces near the corpses of their own men, weapons were drawn.

Blades clashed. Blood spilled.

And when Cedric's forces were at their weakest, the Shadows emerged from the night.

They struck with precision, cutting down the Esmorans who had pushed too far. The surviving Esmoran spies, realizing the trap too late, barely managed to escape into the forest.

Veynal stepped forward, ensuring Cedric saw him.

To Cedric's eyes, it was clear.

The Shadows had just saved his life.

The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across Duke Alaric's study, where the air carried the scent of aged parchment, spiced wine, and the faintest trace of iron—blood, still fresh.

Lord Cedric Valter sat stiffly in the high-backed chair, his coat draped over the armrest, his shirt stained crimson from wounds hastily wrapped in linen. He had refused a healer, trusting no one within Alaric's estate. His fingers curled into a fist as he glared at the noble seated across from him.

"You were waiting for me to owe you a favor."

His voice was low, edged with exhaustion and barely contained anger.

Across the desk, Duke Alaric Ravensbourne exuded nothing but patience. His garments untouched by the chaos of the battlefield Cedric had barely escaped. A man not only played the game of war with swords—but with words, with favors, with debts.

Alaric smiled, taking his time as he swirled the dark wine in his goblet. "No, dear friend," he mused, tilting his head. "I merely waited for the right moment."

Cedric's jaw tensed. "Spare me the pleasantries."

The duke sighed as if humoring a stubborn child. He leaned back, fingers tapping idly against the desk. "And yet, you are here. Under my roof. Drinking my wine. Wearing my bandages." He gestured lazily toward the wrappings around Cedric's torso, then met his gaze with a knowing glint.

Cedric exhaled sharply. "I'll be returning to the capital. The King will hear of this. I'll request more troops."

Alaric nodded as if this was expected. "A wise decision. The Esmoran spies will not hesitate to press an advantage."

Cedric narrowed his eyes. "Don't play coy with me. Those spies were after your men, weren't they?"

Alaric's smile remained, but something colder lurked beneath it. "That, my Lord, is what you must convince yourself of. Otherwise, the alternative is rather… unpleasant."

Cedric stiffened. The duke was testing him, watching how he reacted. He had been manipulated before—but this time, he had walked into it willingly.

He forced himself to stay composed. "You, this was your plan all along."

Alaric chuckled, shaking his head. He raised his goblet in a mock toast. "When you return from the capital, I will stand with you against Esmoran."

Cedric's fingers twitched against the armrest. A deal had already been struck without him speaking another word.

No one ever left Duke Alaric's estate without owing something.

He grimaced, the weight of this unspoken debt settling over him like chains.

He would not forget this.

——Meeting in the Shadows——

Later that night, in the underground chamber beneath Duke's estate, Veynal sat at the head of a stone table, his fingers steepled before him. Around him, five figures stood, their faces partially hidden in the dim torchlight.

He regarded them in silence before finally speaking.

"The Duke's plan is progressing smoothly," he said. "Lord Cedric believes we saved him. The Esmorans have scattered but will return, and when they do, we will be waiting."

He turned his gaze toward the man sitting at his right. Edgar 'Red' Fallon—his scarred face grim, his sharp eyes calculating.

"Red, any movements?"

The former poacher leaned back slightly. "Cedric's men are still licking their wounds, but they'll return. The Esmorans… they're watching, waiting."

Veynal gave a slight nod, then turned his attention to the woman next to Red. Mara 'Fox' Valen, her red hair barely visible beneath her hood, smirked.

"Fox?"

"Rumors are spreading," she said, her voice like silk. "Cedric believes the Esmorans were after his men. The capital will soon hear of his plea for reinforcements. Everything is playing out exactly as the Duke planned."

Veynal's gaze shifted to the next man. Tobias Gray, the quiet, brooding scribe-turned-spy, examined a piece of parchment as he spoke.

"Our forgeries have held," Tobias confirmed. "Cedric hasn't questioned the reports. He sees what he wants to see."

Veynal's gaze moved next to Gerrod Holt, the gruff former dockhand, who merely nodded.

"The underground network is silent," he muttered. "No whispers of our involvement."

Finally, Veynal turned to the last man. Royce Tannor, the smooth-talking courier and master of disguise, grinned.

"And you, Royce?"

Royce shrugged. "Cedric's camp is still oblivious. We'll know the moment anything changes."

Veynal leaned forward, his expression darkening.

"Our next mission is more delicate," he said. "The Duke has given us new orders."

The five shadows listened intently.

"We are to infiltrate the young master's Raven's Shadow organization and join its ranks. Our objective is not just to observe but to climb—to take leadership positions and gain inside knowledge of their operations. We will report everything back to the Duke."

He smirked.

"It seems Aldric has caught the Duke's favor as of late. He treats our reports as a pastime—a storybook he enjoys reading."

Veynal's gaze hardened.

"We will make sure it is a story worth telling."