The air in Vaelorian and Riven's private suite was thick with adrenaline and the chilling realization of their enemy's true scope. They stood by the window overlooking the silent city, a stark contrast to the internal turmoil they faced. The recovered nutrient cable lay coiled on a small table near a sprawling map of Valerius's sprawling estate—an ominously quiet piece of evidence.
Vaelorian, muttering, running a tense hand through his long hair. "The scope of this is terrifying, Riven. Absolutely terrifying. He's not just a political rival; he's attempting to use this technology to enslave a whole nation. If he perfects this... he could turn the entire Sovereign military against us, against Lumina."
Riven paced, his movements sharp and concise, mirroring the focus of his mind.
"We need to destroy that tower, Your Highness. That broadcast is a ticking clock for Lyra's freedom and for the stability of this entire region. But if we outright destroy it, we expose her. We invite war, painting ourselves as aggressors. We need a silent strike, a way to stop the broadcast without exposing ourselves." Riven explained while pacing.
Vaelorian looked down at the pale, translucent cable. His gaze was sharp, already formulating the strategic move.
"The nutrient fluid. That's his weakness and our weapon. If Anya can analyze this chemical, we might find a compound that destabilizes the crystal—something non-explosive, something that makes the whole machine slowly choke on its own fuel."
Just as Riven was about to acknowledge the strategy, Vaelorian felt a sharp, distinct, and instantly recognizable pressure in the back of his mind. It was an urgent, familiar telepathic signature—the mental fingerprint of his trusted Knight, Sir Eryndor.
Vaelorian closed his eyes for a second, focusing his concentration to receive the low-frequency thought.
"You're back already? Is the mission complete? I thought that Northern Hold assignment would tie you up for weeks."
The mental response was strong and clear, tinged with road weariness but focused: Affirmative, Your Highness. Mission complete. I am outside your chambers now. I need to report immediately, but I sense extreme tension around you.
Vaelorian opened his eyes, genuine surprise and a flash of unexpected relief warming his features.
"Riven, Eryndor is back," he announced aloud. "He's outside. I thought that mission would take him at least another week."
Riven, astonished. "Sir Eryndor? Here?" Sir Eryndor is the one other person who knows the true nature of Vaelorian's Gift—he was sent on that private assignment before they even left Lumina. Talk about perfect timing.
Vaelorian walked quietly to the door, his eyes scanning the Imperial guards positioned outside. A moment later, with a faint, almost inaudible shimmer of displaced air, Sir Eryndor materialized in the center of the room. He was still wearing his travel leathers, dusted with road grime, but his eyes were sharp and immediately analytical.
Sir Eryndor bowed low, his gaze instantly taking in the chaotic map, the nervous energy of the room, and the ominous nutrient cable lying coiled on the table.
"Your Highness, Lord Riven. My mission to the Northern Holds is complete. The documents are available for review," he reported, his voice crisp. "But I perceive a great urgency here. What catastrophic event have I walked into this time?"
Vaelorian wasted no time on pleasantries, his words delivered with the urgency of a war command.
"A crisis, Eryndor. Riven and his team have confirmed that Grand Duke Valerius is using a massive amplification machine—a tower—to broadcast a weapon of mental influence across the Sovereign capital. He plans to seize control of the entire nation." Vaelorian gestured to the cable. "This is the nutrient that fuels his machine, and Riven's assessment is that the influence is staggering."
Sir Eryndor's usually calm face tightened with shock, his composure momentarily fracturing.
"A weapon of that scale? That is utterly unprecedented. It explains the sudden, increased Sovereign naval patrols I observed on my journey—they are likely already operating under subtle command. This is treason, Your Majesty, on a global scale."
"We need a plan to stop the broadcast immediately," Riven pressed, his frustration evident. "But Lyra's safety, and international peace, demand we act without exposing our involvement. We need more than just chemistry."
Sir Eryndor walked over to the map, his mind already working through tactical solutions that involved distance and discretion.
"Direct military action is out. Diplomatic exposure is too risky. However, if Valerius is broadcasting his influence, we need to know the pattern. Does the influence stop when he leaves the tower? Does it have a cycle? Is the tower manned twenty-four hours a day?"
Vaelorian's gaze was fixed on the map. "Only Princess Lyra can answer that. And we have used our connection with her too frequently already. We must risk it one final time, but the need is absolute." He looked at Riven, his decision firm. "We need more intelligence on Valerius's schedule and the precise time the tower is most vulnerable."
He turned back to his trusted Knight, relief mixing with strategic calculation.
"Eryndor, we need to meet with Princess Lyra, and you will secure the meeting space. Riven and I will meet with Her Highness to formulate the next step. You arrived at the perfect time. It's good to have you here, my friend."
Sir Eryndor bowed once more, the weight of the new mission already on his shoulders. "My pleasure, Your Highness. I will arrange the meeting with Princess Lyra. I will ensure the location is undetectable and the access point is secure."