A Deal with the Unknown

The room is silent, the weight of uncertainty pressing down like an unseen force.

Kael's grip tightens on the old, leather-bound book, his instincts screaming at him to tread carefully. The stranger sitting across from them—calm, composed, and entirely too self-assured—doesn't seem in any rush. Their fingers tap idly against the worn surface of the desk, as if waiting for a decision they already know is inevitable.

Ronan, for once, isn't cracking jokes. His gaze sharpens, studying the stranger's posture, their tone, the way they keep their focus on the book rather than either of them.

"You're wasting time," the stranger finally says, voice steady. "That thing in your hands? It's a puzzle missing half its pieces. You won't understand what it truly means without help."

Kael's jaw tightens. Every instinct he has tells him not to trust them.

Then—before he can respond—Ronan does.

"We accept."

Kael turns to him, taken aback. Ronan still has that easygoing smirk, but his eyes are serious.

"I've said it countless times," Ronan continues. "Life is about choices. We've been stumbling through this blind, and now we've got someone offering us a map. Might as well take a look before we decide to burn it."

Kael has always been the one to make the final call. But this time, Ronan chooses for them.

A flicker of amusement crosses the stranger's face. "Smart one, aren't you?"

Ronan just shrugs, but there's an edge to his stance. He's waiting, watching, ready to back out at the first sign of deception.

Kael exhales sharply, lowering the book just slightly. "You're not doing this out of goodwill. What do you want?"

The stranger leans back. "I don't work with people who waste my time. If you're in, you listen. You follow my lead when it matters. And in return?" They tilt their head slightly. "You live longer than you would alone."

Kael doesn't like it. Not one bit. But the moment Ronan spoke, the choice was made.

"Fine," he mutters. "Then start talking."

The stranger studies them for a moment before finally speaking.

"For now, you can call me Varian."

The name means nothing to Kael. But something about the way they say it—too smooth, too practiced—tells him it might not be real.

"You're not with the organization," Ronan says, more statement than question.

"No," Varian answers. "But I know more about them than you ever will."

Varian gestures for the book. "Let's start with what you're holding."

Kael hesitates before sliding it across the table. Varian flips through the pages with practiced ease, stopping at a section Kael barely skimmed.

"You think Dominions are just about power," Varian says. "You're wrong."

Their fingers trace a passage, one Kael had dismissed as irrelevant.

"They're about rules. Boundaries. And the ones that break those rules?" Varian glances up. "They don't last long."

Ronan folds his arms. "Yeah? And what makes you such an expert?"

Varian doesn't look offended. "Because I've seen what happens to those who go beyond what's allowed." They tap the page again. "And from what I can tell, you two are already heading in that direction."

Kael exchanges a glance with Ronan.

Varian smirks. "You ever wonder why certain Dominions are forgotten?"

Kael frowns. "Because they're rare?"

"No." Varian leans forward, voice dropping slightly. "Because knowledge is power. And some knowledge is dangerous enough to be erased."

Varian flips another page. Then—suddenly—they stop.

Their expression shifts, subtle but noticeable. Their fingers hover over a single word.

Aetheris.

Kael stiffens. "You recognize it."

Varian exhales, tracing the name as if expecting it to vanish beneath their touch.

"This… shouldn't be here," they murmur.

Kael's pulse quickens. "What do you mean?"

A pause. Then, Varian leans back. Their usual air of confidence is still there, but something about it feels... forced.

"I recognize what happens to the people tied to that name."

Kael doesn't move.

Varian meets his gaze. "If you really want to know, you'd better be ready to accept the answer."

Varian closes the book with a quiet thud. "Here's the deal. You don't just need knowledge. You need proof."

They glance between Kael and Ronan. "There's a place—off the records, wiped clean from most historical texts. If you want real answers, that's where you need to go."

Kael's fingers twitch. "And what's there?"

"A piece of the truth." Varian's voice is unreadable. "Something tied to the lost Dominions. Something that might hold answers about Aetheris."

Ronan raises a brow. "And let me guess. It's not exactly a safe trip?"

Varian's smirk returns. "Now you're catching on."

The choice is already made. Whether Kael likes it or not, they're in.

Varian leans back, arms crossed. "Last warning." Their gaze sharpens. "Once you start down this path, there's no turning back."

Kael exhales slowly.

"I stopped being able to turn back a long time ago."

Varian studies him for a moment before nodding. "Then let's get started."