Glory or Grave

They entered through the broken door of the ruined house. It was huge, dark, and silent. If they didn't know for a fact there were people waiting inside, they would've sworn it was empty. They walked through the worn corridors until they saw a dim light up ahead, enough to see people were standing there, but not enough to make out faces clearly.

They stepped closer and saw three men. All were wearing long black cloaks that reached the ground, their hoods up. Two of them stood with swords sheathed at their sides. The third was sitting, relaxed, tall, and without a weapon in sight.

Rorlan and her companions approached the men, then knelt down on one knee to show their respect to the figure sitting before them.

Rorlan spoke while still bowed, her head lowered to the ground: 

"Your Highness, Crown Prince, it's an honor for us to meet you."

Mira and Arther were right behind her, also on one knee with their heads bowed, silent and not intending to speak. Just like Rorlan told them she caused this situation, and she was the one who would deal with it. They knew she wouldn't let them get hurt.

The man sitting before them was Johan, Crown Prince and eldest son of the current Emperor, Ceberon.

He appeared to be in his late twenties, tall, neither bulky nor too slim fit, with refined looks. He was famously handsome throughout the empire, with beauty worthy of an emperor: tall frame, silvery light hair, stormy gray eyes like a cloudy sky, and calm, pleasant features. But he wasn't known just for his appearance. His intelligence and strategic thinking were equally praised. That's why few opposed his position as crown prince, he had everything needed to become a great emperor.

For Rorlan, this wasn't the first time she'd seen him… not even the second or third. She had grown up watching him from afar—during banquets, war councils, and through her family's ties to the crown. After all, she was a one the Azmelanidors, one of the founding families upon which the kingdom of Wandal stood.But the Rorlan standing before him now was a different person.

Her face hidden, her identity buried, this was only the second time she'd met him as this version of herself. The first time had been when she'd outsmarted him, snatching the dotted stone from right under his nose before he even had a chance to act. It had amused him. Intrigued him.

And now… she was here again.

"Remind me," Johan spoke at last, his voice smooth like velvet laced with steel. "Your name. I don't believe you told me last time."

The problem was, Rorlan couldn't give him a name because she didn't have one. Not a consistent one, at least. Every time she and her companions went out on a mission, she used a different alias. Both Mira and Arther knew this, which is why they exchanged brief, nervous glances while keeping their heads bowed low, doing their best to hide the awkward silence from the Crown Prince.

Rorlan stood frozen for a heartbeat, trying to conjure up something, anything to say. Then, with forced calm, she spoke " Datura, my prince"

As soon as she said it, Johan burst out laughing. He laughed so hard the three of them tensed in place, glancing slightly up as he wiped tears from his eyes.

"That's the fakest name I've ever heard," he said, placing a hand on his chest as he leaned back against the stone he'd been sitting on. "Out of all the names you could've lied to me with you went with that one? No problem, no problem."

Rorlan turned red from embarrassment, thankful her face was still hidden. In her head, she cursed herself for not preparing a better alias. She almost wanted to yell at herself out of sheer shame—but this wasn't the time for that.

Johan resumed speaking after giving her a moment to feel the shame of the ridiculous fake name she had just used. 

"Well then, Datura , where's the thing we're here for?" He smirked mockingly, then added, "Don't tell me you forgot it?"

As soon as he said that, both Mira and Arther began to sweat from anxiety. As for Rorlan, her heart felt like it was about to stop from how violently it pounded inside her chest. She tried to gather her composure.

"I didn't bring it with me," she said firmly, "because you didn't come for it tonight. You came for me. Or am I wrong?"

As soon as she finished that sentence, one of the two men standing beside the Crown Prince unsheathed his sword and raised it toward her. But before he got any closer, Prince Johan raised a hand to stop him. 

"It's fine, Ron. Let her say what she has to say," he said calmly his tone stopping the blade inches from her.

Mira and Arther, still behind her, stood frozen with their mouths slightly open. They were shocked by what Rorlan had just said. Was she here to calm things down or set everything on fire? Had she forgotten about the missing stone? And yet, they didn't intervene their tongues felt too heavy with fear.

Rorlan, seeing the prince had given her a chance to speak, stood up straight and prepared to defend herself.

"Everyone here knows that a prince like you wouldn't get stuck on something like a dotted stone. That kind of stone is only gathered to be used by the imperial court or their agents. The day we met, you liked the way I gathered it. Both you and I know we're no longer interested in dotted crystal. We're both after the Radiant stone. We both want to collect as much of it as we can."

As she finished her sentence, she noticed Johan smiling faintly in the dim light, just enough to let her know she was on the right track so far. That gave her the confidence to continue:

"The Radiant stone? That's something even you wouldn't get stuck on. As everyone knows, the imperial family and founding houses use it to protect their children. But the thing is… the Radiant crystal has a lot of complications, and very few people dare to gather it."

Johan said, "You're right about that. I do want the Radiant Stone, it's rare because of how dangerous it is. Just touching it with bare skin is enough to open your eyes in the afterlife."

Rorlan replied, "I know that line. Everyone who's ever handled stones knows it. But I'm ready to risk my life to collect the Radiant Stone for you."

Johan asked, "But why? If it's just about money, the Dotted Stone is profitable too. Why go this far?"

Rorlan answered, "For the same reason you turned to someone whose face you don't even know." She paused, narrowing her eyes at him before continuing, "For the future of Wandal."

Johan didn't respond immediately he just stared at her, his expression unreadable. It was hard to tell if he was impressed by her resolve or irritated by it.

"You wouldn't say that unless you understood the Radiant Stone," he finally said.

Of course, Rorlan knew a lot about it. The stone was forbidden to all but three families: Azmelanidor, Taryon, and Vallis. Anyone outside those bloodlines who so much as touched it, used it, or possessed it was punished with immediate death no questions asked.

Rorlan explained, "I know what anyone with an eye on it would know. If you touch it with bare skin, you die. The three families raise their children close to it so their energy can sync with it from a young age. That way, it gets used to their aura and doesn't harm them. Once the stone adapts to your energy, it understands you, if you use it with killing intent, it will kill without mercy. If you use it with the intent to protect, it will shield you, and nothing can hurt you. Men in those families often use it offensively in battles, while women tend to wield it for defense. That's what I know."

She paused for a moment and added, "But I'm not stupid, i know that you want to use it for some noble cause for the Empire."

Johan stared at her with an unreadable look. Sure, the info she gave could be known by anyone with an interest in radiant stone but something about the way Rorlan said it made him feel like she knew more than she let on.

Johan: "Alright then... but here's the real question: why should I trust you or let you work for me? My intentions are clear, but are yours?"

Everyone went silent, waiting for Rorlan's reply. The broken-down house was filled with a tense stillness, broken only by the soft whistle of the breeze slipping through the cracks… until Rorlan shattered the silence with an answer that only made things more intense:

"You're speaking like you weren't the one who made this offer in the first place… or maybe you just forgot what made you bring it up." 

She paused a moment, then continued, 

"You're the one who needs me, not the other way around."