Rebirth System: Blood and Ash

The air in the foyer was thick, clinging to their skin as they all stared, each man, guard, and servant rooted to the spot.

The lifeless bodies of Meholt and Zahai hung from the upper staircase railing, their faces drawn and dark in death, shadows pulling across the hollowed skin beneath their eyes.

Alan, the unreadable face of Aric's guard, clenched his jaw, his hand gripping his sword hilt as though it were the only thing holding him steady.

The silence stretched, each person looking to the prince, awaiting his command.

Aric, his gaze not faltering, looked up at the bodies of his men and felt a cold settle in his chest. For a long moment, he didn't move, only the barely-there flicker of his eyelids betraying his slight shock, his own grief.

Then, with a swift breath, he turned toward Alan, a look sharp enough to carve stone.

"Bring them down," he commanded, his voice low, yet biting.

Alan nodded, a simple motion, and gestured to the guards who had traveled with them. They moved quickly, with hands respectful but efficient, carefully lowering the bodies.

There was a quiet reverence in their movements, an understanding, perhaps a respect for their death—maybe a Sacrifice it was, one that assured many more deaths to come in order to appease theirs.

Aric turned, his eyes steady, his voice as unbreakable as reinforced steel, and addressed the entourage that had followed him back to the estate.

"Return to your quarters," he said, motioning to the weary soldiers and members of his house.

"Rest and make yourselves comfortable. Usen"—he nodded toward a middle-aged woman with a calm presence, her face carved by years of service and loyalty—"handle the allocation of chambers."

Usen inclined her head, a quiet understanding passing between them, her movements as brisk as her voice.

"Of course, your grace. Follow me, everyone." Her tone cut through the solemn quiet as she directed them with confidence, her gaze lingering only briefly on the dark, lifeless figures now laid gently against the foyer floor.

Once they began to disperse, Aric turned toward a select few who had remained behind, those who constituted his council and closest advisors.

"The rest of you—follow me to the study." His voice was smooth, his expression unbroken as he led them away from the scene, his steps with purpose.

---

Inside the study, warm candle bright was all that offered illumination across the room. Rich carvings adorned the walls, and shelves filled with many books and scrolls lined the perimeter.

Each seat in the room was occupied, the council gathering with a stressful and tense air as they settled into their places around the grand oak table.

There was Lerai, now known among them as but a quiet inventor whose mind held more secrets than one could imagine; Borag, a once bandit now general with a stoic face and sharp gaze; Serina, a mage most know better than utter the name of, her fingers trailed faint sparks of magic even when at rest; Alan, always nearby, a silent tandem of loyalty; Old Man Hitoshi, a gray-robed strategist, information dealer and spy whose wisdom was a tale carried on through decades; and finally, Mandel, a young man whose watchful eyes missed nothing—a new addition he was.

Aric took his seat at the head, his face illuminated by the low flame of a nearby lamp. His fingers were still as he looked over the council, his eyes passing over each face, reading the mixture of loyalty, unease, and determination that bound them all together.

"We came to the capital to eliminate the second prince... With the letter we received we may begin to sever any claim he has to the throne," Aric began, his voice clear, yet carrying a cold edge, "but I believe leaving Darius unchecked could prove just as dangerous."

His gaze shifted to Old Man Hitoshi. "What do we know about Darius's supporters? Speak freely. I want to know every detail."

The old man leaned forward, his fingers tracing the edge of a parchment map on the table before him. He nodded slowly, gathering his thoughts as the room fell into silence.

"Darius has always held sway over those who believe in change, who see a new path for the empire," Hitoshi began, his voice steady and measured.

"They call themselves the Silver Dawn. They're not just nobles—some are scholars, merchants, even men of faith. They see Darius as the pioneer of a new order, one where power may flow not just from the throne, but from those deemed worthy by merit."

"Merit?" Borag scoffed, crossing his arms. "They speak of merit while lining their pockets with stolen wealth."

The Irony of a bandit saying that was not lost on Mandel who concealed his laughter with a subtle smile.

Hitoshi however, nodded in grim agreement.

"Indeed. The Silver Dawn hides its corruption under a guise of righteousness. At their head is Count Lysander Drakov, a man as cunning as he is ambitious. His territories border the empire's east, where our brightest scholars and most skilled mages are trained. Drakov has used his influence over these academies to push Darius as the noble's prince, a reformer."

"And House Drakov isn't alone in this," Hitoshi continued, his gaze falling on each of them. "House Taelor backs them as well—bureaucrats who have advised the empire for generations, but they yearn for a decentralization of power, seeking more influence over imperial matters. They see Darius as their means to achieve it."

Serina's lips pressed together, her expression still a blank canvas.

"And House Vane?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Merchants," Hitoshi answered, almost with disdain.

"They see opportunity in Darius, hoping he will loosen the emperor's grip on commerce. If they could, they'd turn the empire into a free-for-all trade route, untethered by imperial oversight."

Aric's fingers drummed against the table as he listened, a faint tug at his lips. The Silver Dawn painted itself as a faction of idealists, yet it was built on a foundation of selfish ambitions and hidden avarice.

Still, they were dangerous; they promised not just an ally, but the allure of a new empire, a dream that would tempt many of the discontented.

"And as if that wasn't enough, the treasury is nearly empty," Hitoshi continued, the frustration clear in his voice.

"The funds meant to keep the empire defenses strong have been drained by embezzlement. Those nobles use it to enrich themselves while the empire's lands grow poorer, the people more desperate."

A grim silence fell over the room. Mandel, usually quiet, leaned forward.

"And the Church?" he asked, a hint of scorn in his voice. "Where do they stand?"

"The Church of the Holy Flame," Hitoshi replied, his tone bitter, "they once were indeed right in claiming to be the empire's moral backbone, but now they're little more than a puppet. They accept bribes from noble houses, issuing decrees in exchange for coin, even turning a blind eye to treason when it serves their interests. They speak of peace, but they secretly fund war."

Aric leaned back, the shadows playing across his face, casting his features into a sharp, unreadable mask.

"So, Darius has built his power on corruption and illusions," he mused. "The Silver Dawn poses as a vision of hope, but in truth, they're all wolves cloaked in righteousness—all actors, just like he is. Darius would tear this empire apart piece by piece if it would secure him a crown...and he would smile innocently while doing it"

Alan nodded in agreement, his expression as severe as ever.

"If we don't act swiftly, he will bring ruin not just to the Imperial city, but even the empire itself."

"But to strike at Darius is to strike at an illusion that the nobles crave—a future of wealth and power with no higher order," Serina murmured thoughtfully.

"And illusions are difficult to kill."

Aric's gaze sharpened, his lips curling into a knowing smile.

"Then we will begin by revealing the illusion for what it is. We'll shine a light into the shadows he hides behind and let his allies see the truth of their beloved prince..."

"And for the stubborn ones, the unbelievers?" Mandel muttered.

Aric stayed silent a moment, weighing his words before speaking.

"We will have them meet God, what better way to make a man believe."

Lerai, who had been silent throughout, finally spoke, his eyes flickering with superiority that belied his quiet demeanor.

"I'll prepare what's needed," he said. "Let me know how you wish to proceed."

Aric nodded, each plan solidifying in his mind, a calculated vengeance brewing behind his gaze.

"For now, let's take stock of what allies we have in this city and who we can trust. Darius may have made a Web just like, but every web has its weak threads, and Hitoshi it's your job to find it."

The old man nodded.

The rest of the council followed, each one carrying the a crystal understanding of what lay ahead.