The Mask Beneath the Throne

Ryuji stood at the base of the Citadel's north gate, the old scroll hidden beneath his cloak.

The wind carried a chill, but not the kind found in the breach. This cold was thinner, sharper, like breath held too long. The guards at the gate didn't ask questions. They recognized him and stepped aside.

Inside the walls, the city had changed.

Not on the surface. The same banners flew. The same stone arches watched over the streets. But Ryuji noticed what wasn't there.

Fewer people.

Quieter corners.

Even the market, usually loud with vendors shouting prices, had gone still. A hush had settled over Valemire, like it knew something was coming and didn't want to be seen when it arrived.

He made his way through the narrow walkways behind the Citadel Hall. The back entrance, used by stewards and servants, was less guarded, but not forgotten.

He passed through it quietly.

The hallways inside were tall and gray. Shadows fell long between the stone columns, and his boots echoed with every step. He could hear the faint voices of officials behind closed doors. Councilmen. Clerks. Advisors. Always whispering, always watching.

He took the stairs to the archives chamber.

Velen was waiting there, leaning over a map stretched across the table.

He looked up when Ryuji entered.

"You're back", he said, voice flat. "I wasn't sure you would be."

Ryuji placed the scroll on the table between them.

"This is the truth", he said. "The real Pact. The one they buried."

Velen didn't move right away. His eyes rested on the wax seal, then flicked up to Ryuji's face.

"Where did you find it?"

"Mirael Solace", Ryuji replied. "She never stopped keeping the record. Just kept it far enough from the light so no one would burn it."

Velen reached for the scroll and unrolled part of it. His eyes moved across the faded ink. When he reached the blacked-out name, his hands tensed.

"Liraen", he whispered.

"So you knew", Ryuji said quietly.

Velen didn't answer.

Ryuji felt a weight rise in his chest. "You knew she was part of it. That they erased her. And you said nothing."

"I didn't have a choice", Velen said, softly now. "Not then."

"There's always a choice."

Velen looked up sharply. "Do you think this place runs on truth, Ryuji? The Pact became a throne because people needed a crown to kneel to. If they knew it had cracks..."

"Then maybe they would've tried to fix it instead of worshipping it", Ryuji interrupted.

Silence fell between them.

Velen sighed and rolled the scroll back up. His voice was low now, almost tired.

"You don't understand the game you're stepping into. The Pact didn't just build the Dominion. It shaped the world beyond it. Trade, alliances, fear, every line of power traces back to this."

"And that's why it matters", Ryuji said.

Velen met his eyes.

Then nodded once, slowly.

"You're going to make enemies."

"I already have."

Later that evening, Ryuji stood at one of the highest towers of the Citadel. Below him, the city of Valemire glowed with dim lanterns. Smoke curled from chimneys. Distant bells marked the turning hour.

He unrolled the scroll again.

His eyes traced the words. Oaths meant to protect, twisted into commands meant to control. Promises bent into silence.

He thought of the breach. Of Liraen's name, buried and forgotten. Of the watchtower that still hummed beneath the ice.

He thought of Mirael, sitting in her small, quiet house, still guarding truth long after everyone else had stopped.

And he thought of the throne.

Who sat behind it.

And what they truly knew.

His breath fogged in the cold air.

Footsteps approached behind him.

He turned, hand drifting near his blade.

But it was Cael.

Her expression was unreadable, but there was a weight in her gaze.

"I heard", she said simply.

Ryuji said nothing.

Cael stepped beside him and looked over the city. "You found something, didn't you?"

"I found what they didn't want us to see."

She nodded once. "Then be careful. Because those who buried it... they're not done yet."

Ryuji glanced at her.

"You sound like you've known longer than you let on."

Cael's jaw tightened. "I've known just enough to stay alive."

He stared at her for a long moment.

"Then help me."

She didn't reply right away.

But then, finally, she whispered, "When the time comes."

That night, as the lamps burned low and the city began to sleep, Ryuji returned to his quarters and began writing, pages of notes, pieces of the truth, small fragments of the Pact's real face.

He would speak it aloud soon.

But not yet.

Not until he knew who in the Citadel still wore a mask.

And who had made that mask in the first place.