Page 69 of Sundered By Fate

"The political landscape has shifted overnight," he said finally. "And we need to figure out where we fit into it."

Davin shifted on the bench, a crease forming between his brows. "I know you don't want to hear this, Aric, but I think we need to bring the Silver Tower in on this. Whatever Valerian's up to, it's dangerous. And if Aster's sudden return has anything to do with it . . ."

Aric let out a long breath, his mind racing. He hated the idea of dragging his old mentors into this tangled web, especially when he wasn't sure where their loyalties lay. But he couldn't deny the wisdom of Davin's suggestion.

"You're right," he said reluctantly. "We can't handle this alone. But we need to be careful—Valerian has eyes everywhere. And if he's truly aligned with the Pureblade Order . . ."

Davin nodded, his expression somber. "We'll have to watch our backs."

Aric glanced around the empty hallway, suddenly feeling exposed. He had spent so long isolated in Drindal, with only Malekith as his constant companion, that he had almost forgotten what it was like to be truly alone.

"We need to find Olaya," Davin said. "Tell her everything we've learned. Maybe she can reach out to the High Mages without arousing suspicion."

Aric and Davin both stilled, and Aric's gaze followed Davin's to a figure across the room. Lord Regent Valerian was watching them, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, Aric and Valerian locked eyes, and that stare was like a physical thing. There was something calculating inValerian's expression, something that made Aric's skin prickle with unease. He had been so careful to keep his distance from the Lord Regent, to shield himself from his influence, but now he felt as though that carefully constructed facade was being peeled away, layer by layer.

Davin stood, brushing off the front of his robes. "We should go."

"Right." Aric rose to follow him. "I'll meet you later—by the old oak."

Davin nodded, and together they slipped back into the flow of courtiers heading for the exits.

Aric cast one last glance toward Valerian, but the Lord Regent had already turned away, his attention focused on some other conversation.

As they wound through the palace corridors, Aric felt with a grim certainty that events were spiraling out of control. Aster's return, Valerian's ambitions, Cyrus's new order—it all felt like pieces of a puzzle clicking into place. But Aric couldn't see the whole picture yet; couldn't discern who was manipulating whom or what sinister designs were truly at play.

All he knew was that something dark was lurking beneath the surface, threatening to engulf them all.

And he had to uncover the truth before it was too late.

Eighteen

The Silver Tower loomed above them, a beacon of glistening stone amidst the urban sprawl. Its silver-white spires pierced the sky, etched with ancient runes that glimmered with unearthly light. Around it, the capital city buzzed with frantic activity as soldiers and mages prepared for the coming storm.

As Aric and Davin approached the Tower's wrought-iron gates, Aric couldn't help but notice the strain in Davin's posture, a tension that had been present between them since their falling out. The memory of their last confrontation—Davin's words sharp as daggers, his eyes cold as ice—was still fresh in Aric's mind, and he struggled to push it aside.

"The city feels different," Davin said finally, breaking the uneasy silence between them. "The atmosphere . . . It's like everyone's holding their breath."

Aric nodded, though inwardly he couldn't share his old friend's hopeful sentiments. To him, the faces of the citizens they passed were a mix of excitement and fear, anticipation and dread. And deep in his gut, a sense of foreboding coiled tight, a blackened knot that threatened to choke him.

"Everyone's preparing for war," he said finally. "The king's proclamation has lit a fire under their feet. But whether it's a fire that will illuminate or consume them remains to be seen."

Davin shot him a sidelong glance, his expression unreadable. "And what about us? Do you think we're ready for whatever's coming?"

Aric tried to make sense of King Aster's strange proclamation, and all he'd learned just before it: about Sylthris, and Valerian, and Malekith—and all the many unanswered questions he had still. He felt like he was circling around the answer that would make it all make sense, but it stayed just maddening, infuriatingly out of reach.

"All we can do is try," Aric said finally.

Davin gave a brisk nod, and they continued on toward the Silver Tower without another word.

Aric and Davin reached the main entrance of the Silver Tower, where they were met with a wall of guards, their silver uniforms gleaming in the midday sun. Aric stepped forward, ready to state their case, but the guards immediately raised their spears, blocking the way.

"Halt! No one is allowed entry to the Tower without express permission from the Council," one of the guards barked, his voice as sharp as the blade at his side.

Aric squared his shoulders, drawing himself up to his full height. "I am Aric Solarian, a mage of the Silver Tower. I demand to see the Council immediately."

The guard's eyes narrowed, and he glanced over Aric's shoulder at Davin, who was watching the exchange with crossed arms and an impatient expression. Tension radiated off him, and Aric fought the urge to roll his eyes.

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