"It's about Drakos, and the Inquisitors of Godfall," Lykkos said calmly. "And the High Court is going to want to hear it."
Lady Vorenna fell silent at his words. Around her, the High Court leaned forward in their elevated seats, silk robes whispering, jeweled crowns catching the light. Every representative listened now.
"Tell us, Lykkos," said the Elven representative, his voice smooth and measured.
Lykkos lifted his gaze toward the towering high tables that loomed above the dais, their marble steps rising like a judgment scaffold.
"Drakos plans to meet with the Demon Clans," he said. He paused. "He seeks an alliance."
The High Court erupted.
Shouts collided with one another, voices overlapping in alarm and disbelief. Several representatives rose from their seats. The Giantblood representative slammed her massive fist against the arm of her throne, the sound cracking through the chamber.
"What?" she bellowed. "The Demon Clans are neutral!"
"They have refused every offer we've made!" another shouted. "They would not take sides even at the height of the war!"
"This is madness," cried a third. "We cannot allow them to join him!"
"The fae will not survive such a union," the fae representative hissed sharply.
The chamber dissolved into panic.
Vorenna stood frozen amid the storm of voices, her pulse hammering in her ears.
'What are we supposed to do? What can we do?'
Her eyes flicked to Lykkos, who remained perfectly still. Then—without raising his voice—he lifted his foot and brought it down onto the marble dais.
The impact sent a violent gust of wind roaring outward.
Robes snapped. Papers scattered. Candles flickered wildly before settling. The chamber fell into immediate, stunned silence.
"Remain calm," Lykkos said evenly. "My investigator also confirmed that Drakos has already sent a letter by griffin. The Demon Chieftain will receive it by nightfall. An envoy of Inquisitors has been dispatched to ensure the message arrives."
The panic returned, but quieter now—murmurs instead of shouts.
Vorenna's thoughts raced.
'If they join him… we're finished. Drakos alone is already too much.'
Then—clarity struck.
Her spine straightened.
Lykkos turned slightly toward her. "Vorenna," he said quietly. "You have an idea."
"Yes," she said, her voice firm. "My Deathforged—" She turned to face the High Court. "—they can intercept the letter. Or at the very least, make contact with the Chieftain before Drakos does. We outbid him. Turn this into a negotiation."
Silence.
Then the human representative spoke cautiously. "And the envoy? These criminals will not survive an encounter with the Inquisitors."
"I will handle the envoy," Lykkos said without hesitation.
No one challenged him.
There was still distrust—plenty of it. Mutters rippled through the chamber as several representatives exchanged uneasy looks, already questioning the wisdom of the Deathforged Contract.
Lykkos turned fully to Vorenna.
"I cannot say I trust them," he admitted, his gaze briefly passing over the Deathforged. "But I trust you. Send them for the letter. I will deal with the Inquisitors."
He reached into the golden leather sash at his waist and withdrew a folded document, handing it to her.
"My investigator compiled this briefing on the Demon Territories. Routes. Hazards. Borders."
Vorenna took it with a nod. "Thank you."
Moments later, Lykkos departed. The High Court soon followed, representatives filing out in clusters of hushed conversation. Before long, only Vorenna and the Deathforged remained.
She clapped her hands once. "Alright. All of you. Come here."
They gathered around her, Atlas standing closest. She pressed the document into his hand.
"Read it. Carefully. It matters."
He grunted and slid it into his pocket. "Before we talk about… whatever the hell that was—can we get real clothes?"
He gestured to their prison rags.
She sighed. "Yes. I'll have your confiscated garments returned."
"Finally!" Lorian said, already heading for the doors. "Get me out of these damn sacks."
"You're loud," Ako muttered, waddling after him.
"I like these clothes," Garruk said, pouting slightly as he followed.
Seris said nothing, her cloak trailing behind her as she walked.
Atlas lingered. Vorenna caught his arm.
"What I said still stands," she said. "I want you to lead them. Can you handle that?"
He shrugged. "I'll try. But I'm not dying for anyone. I'll leave them behind if I have to."
He walked away.
They changed soon after.
Ako slipped into a crimson tunic cinched at the waist, paired with loose brown linen pants that ended at her shins. She remained barefoot, her claws tapping lightly against the stone.
Lorian emerged next, practically glowing. A sleeveless sapphire-blue silk robe hung from his shoulders, matched with a white tunic beneath and tailored gray trousers. Sharp boots gleamed at his feet, and thin gold bracelets circled his biceps. Twin daggers rested easily at his hips.
Garruk wore little more than black leather trousers and a sleeveless animal-hide vest, loose even on his massive frame. Like Ako, he went barefoot.
Seris donned a muted gray tunic beneath a regal purple cloak clasped at her shoulder. A sash crossed her torso, securing her bow. Her silver hair spilled freely down her back, stark against the deep violet fabric.
Atlas came last. Black leather armor plates layered over a dark tunic and fitted pants. A heavy black cloak draped from his shoulders, its interior lined in royal blue. Four daggers rested at his sides, and a long, narrow sword was strapped across his back.
---
When the sun began to set, they gathered outside the gates of the Sunborn Empire. After they received their confiscated clothes they decided to meet up here.
Seris was first, then Lorian, followed by Garruk and Ako, and lastly Lady Vorenna and Atlas. While on the way to the outer rim of the gated empire, Vorenna handed Atlas a crystal sphere that glimmered faintly from within.
"A Culling Sphere. Once you intercept the letter, deliver this to the Chieftain. I'll speak through it."
"Got it," Atlas said, pocketing it.
---
Prior to receiving their clothes, they walked through the marble halls of the High Court building, and the planning began.
"So... how the hell do we get there?" asked Lorian.
"Walk?" Ako said.
"Thank the gods you're not making the plans. Huh, Cap?" Lorian said to Atlas.
"Cap?"
"Yeah, Captain. Leader? Commander? Lieutenant? Nah...general...?
"Neither." Atlas said sharply.
"I could throw you all?" Garruk said whilst raising his hand like this a classroom. Lorian chuckled and looked up at the Giantblood.
"Good input big guy...but uh... not gonna work."
Garruk frowned, "Okay..."
Lorian's eyes widened. "We could ride a phoenix! Holy shit yes! Imagine..me on a phoenix... By the gods..." The hybrid imagined himself riding a phoenix like a knight on a horse, "That would be incredible..."
Seris chuckled, "You have to be pure hearted to ride those. You, are not. Mr. I seduced the Queen and Princesses of the Sunborn Empire. You're too horny."
Atlas stopped, "No, he's on to something...We do have to ride something to get there, it's too far and we need to reach it by nightfall..." He sighs, "One of us... did have the unlawful taming of dragons for one their charges..." He looked to Seris.
"Shit." Lorian said.
---
Back outside the Suborn Empire, the Deathforged stood outside the gates. Lorian paced back and forth.
"We still sure on that dragon? You called that thing an hour ago!"
Seris, in her purple robe stares up at the clouds, the golden sunset casting a beautiful hue on her brow skin.
"Any minute now..." She took in a deep breath and whistled loudly, so loudly Ako's sensitive fur ears twitched. Lorian was sweating bricks.
"See? Look? No dragon. Honestly I think the big guy throwing us might be a better option. I mean really a dragon? I don't even think they're real" He shrugs, "This is a dumb—what everyone looking at?"
He turns to the sun and squints. In the distance the silhouette of a massive dragon is soaring through the clouds.
"Oh gods..."
Their 'ride' had arrived and the First Mission of the Deathforged was about to begin.