THE PRICE OF INSTINCT
The blood had been washed away.
The blades were wrapped and hidden.
But the echoes remained.
By morning, the snow-covered trail was crawling with mounted guards in silver-gray cloaks — the royal sigil of House Tenebral emblazoned across every chestplate. Word traveled fast in Tenria. Too fast.
Deus sat beside the half-dead envoy, legs crossed, eyes closed. Kairen leaned against a tree, watching two guards collect bodies. Corva stood at a distance, arms folded, muttering to herself.
A tall man dismounted near them. Black gloves. Smooth gait. A coat that fluttered without wind.
Royal Agent.
The emblem on his collar confirmed it.
He approached Deus directly.
"You will come with me."
The capital wasn't far.
They traveled by enchanted rail, arriving at the southern border tower just after dusk. Deus didn't speak during the ride. Neither did the agent.
But the silence was not peace.
It was weight.
Something had shifted the moment Antrar had awakened.
And someone knew.
The Interrogation Room – Teneberal Watchtower
The room was circular, lined with mirrors — enchanted to reflect not the body, but the soul.
Deus didn't flinch when he saw his reflection.
But he noticed the agent watching.
"Name?" the agent asked.
"You know it."
"I want to hear it from you."
"Deus Zars."
"Are you aware of what blades you used during the Taresca ambush?"
"Yes."
The agent paused.
Then: "Where did you acquire them?"
"They were crafted under Zars jurisdiction. Approved training relics."
"Don't lie to me."
Deus leaned back in the chair. "Would I be here if I was trying to hide them?"
The agent stepped forward. "The Antrar blades haven't appeared in over a hundred years. The last bearer lost control and collapsed an entire border town."
Deus blinked slowly.
"I didn't lose control."
"That's not the concern," the agent said. "The concern is that you didn't hesitate."
Silence.
Then, the agent placed a rune-sealed folder on the table.
Inside were sketches.
Not of the fight.
Of Deus.
In motion. Blades in hand. Expression unreadable.
A witness had drawn it.
From a hill nearby.
"You were seen."
Deus looked at the sketches.
One hand on the hilt.
One blade glowing black.
The other glowing silver.
"I defended the envoy."
"You executed trained assassins."
"They attacked."
"You didn't need to kill."
Deus met his eyes.
"I needed to end it."
The agent stared.
For a long time.
Then said, "You'll be summoned to the Citadel soon. Not for punishment. For evaluation."
Deus stood.
And said, "Let them evaluate me. Just don't expect to understand me."
He left the room.
Later– Zars Estate
Thesea Zars sipped from a glass of crimsonberry wine, reading the agent's report.
She chuckled.
"He was bored. That's why he used the blades."
Stradar raised an eyebrow. "You think this is a game to him?"
"No," she said. "It's instinct."
She tapped the final line of the report.
"Subject appears composed. Dangerous not because of rage — but because of clarity."
She smirked.
"Our son is finally becoming what he was born to be."
Deus's Tower– That Night
He unwrapped Antrar.
The blades were silent.
But he felt it now.
A pulse — not magical, but emotional.
They didn't crave blood.
They craved purpose.
And in his chest, Deus felt something even more dangerous.
Not power.
Not pride.
But ease.
It had felt natural.
Too natural.
And that was the problem.
He opened his notebook.
Wrote one line.
I didn't kill them because I had to. I killed them because it was faster.
He closed the book.
And for the first time…
He wasn't sure if that made him effective —
Or monstrous.