Auryn reached the door. Then stopped. His hands inches from its wooden frame. He looked down.
He wore only loose linen pants. Bandages wrapped his torso. His chest…bare with only the Amulet dangling.
Borin noticed. "Wait here, Sire."
He disappeared through a side door at the far-end of the large room. Returned moments later with a black shirt. Something simple and practical.
"Can't interrogate prisoners half-dressed," Borin muttered.
Auryn took it. Pulled it over his head. The fabric settled across his shoulders perfectly.
It still felt strange. This body. These clothes. This life. But he was committed to it now.
Borin handed him a leather belt. "For show, at least."
Auryn buckled it and adjusted the fit.
The guard at the door shifted nervously. Waiting patiently.
"Ready," Auryn said.
The guard opened the door and they left.
Moments later…
They walked through damp corridors. The stone walls of the dungeon narrowed. Torchlights flickered, while shadows stretched on the walls.
He'd never done this. Not as Julien. No memory of dungeons. Of interrogations. But Auryn's instincts guided him. Muscle memory if he had to call it something.
Borin walked beside him. Axe on his back. Hand resting on the haft.
"He was quite cautious with his tongue, my lord," Borin said quietly. "He was holding back. Only said a little to keep his head"
Auryn glanced at him. "What did he say?"
"Claims he was hired. Never saw employer's face."
"You believe that?"
Borin's jaw tightened. "He's lying about something. I know it."
"Hmmm" Auryn nodded.
Soon they passed two guards at a checkpoint. Both wore simple leather armor. Swords at hips. Helms blocking their faces.
Auryn's vision shifted automatically. Author's Eyes activating without conscious thought.
Silver aura around the left guard. Bright. Loyal. The right guard's aura was pale silver. Dutiful. Not fully devoted.
And beneath the pale silver. A taint of crimson.
Another traitor?
Auryn's hands curled into fists. The original was living in a den of lions waiting to devour him at any turn.
He wondered. How deep does this network run?
The guards saluted. Silence between them. Auryn registered the crimson guard's looks.
After the end of the staircase. A corridor stretched ahead. Cells lined both sides.
Most were empty. A few held shadows. Prisoners too broken or quiet to notice them.
The air smelled of rot. Rust. Fear. And defeat.
At the end of the corridor, a single cell. Separate from the others. Two guards stood watch. Both had pure silver auras.
One stepped forward. Unlocked the iron door that swung open with a groan.
"We'll wait here, Your Highness," the guard said.
Auryn nodded. Stepped inside. Borin followed without hesitation.
The door clanged shut behind them.
---
The cell was small. There was barely enough room to even breathe.
The interior was dark with only a single torch in a wall bracket.
The prisoner sat slumped against the far wall. He looked thirty or was it the beating and pains that turned his clock?
His right arm ended at the wrist. Bandaged stump. Dried blood stained the cloth. Courtesy of Borin.
Auryn's vision flickered. Author's Eyes showed a fading gray aura.
Doomed.
The man was already dying. Blood loss. Infection. Despair. He didn't have long.
He looked up as Auryn entered. Fear and regret flashing across his face.
"Your Highness." His voice was rough. Cracked.
Auryn said nothing. He only stared. Curiosity hidden underneath his cold facade.
Silence…
Finally, Auryn spoke slowly. "Who hired you?"
The man swallowed. He remained silent for a split second before he began spilling his guts.
"A noble. I swear it. Wore a mask. Met me in the lower city."
"What did this noble offer?"
"Five hundred gold. My lord" The prisoner's voice shook. "Said it was a test."
Auryn's face remained expressionless.
"A test?"
"To see if you'd survive. If the weak prince was truly weak."
Would you imagine that. Not to kill me. For reconnaissance. This body died to a fucking test.
Auryn's teeth gritted. His hands curled into fists. Borin stepped beside him. Sensing the building rage.
"Tell me everything," Auryn said. Voice low and dangerous.
The prisoner flinched. "I don't know more. I swear. He gave me the poison. Told me when to strike. That's all."
"Where did you meet him?"
"The Rusty Colt. Tavern in the slums."
"How many times?"
"Twice. First time he hired me. Second time he paid half."
Auryn processed that. "And the other half?"
"After you died."
Auryn bit his lower lip as he watched the prisoner's gray aura darkened. Fading faster now.
His eyes filled with tears."I'm sorry sire,"
He coughed. Blood flecked his lips.
Auryn stared at him. No revulsion. No pity. Just cold assessment.
This one was just a piece in a world of pawns
Auryn looked back at him. Met his lingering gaze.
"You were a tool. Used and discarded." His voice was even. "Your greed sealed your fate." He added.
The prisoner's face crumpled. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
He coughed again. Much harder. Blood spattered the stone floor. The chains of his bound arms suddenly felt loose.
His gray aura flickered and then extinguished.
He slumped sideways. His body under the light. Bruises and cuts all over. Fresh blood flowing.
He was gone. His last breath evaporated like it was never even there prior.
Auryn stared at the body. This feeling was something that crawled on his skin after the experiences he had before now.
He sighed.
Borin stepped forward. Closed the dead man's eyes. "Rest now."
Then he turned to Auryn. Studied him. "You've changed, lad." Auryn met his gaze. He said nothing.
His mind raced. Has he noticed. What gave me away?
Borin's silver aura pulsed. Steady. Still loyal.
"You're sharper, colder. But not cruel."
"Is that good or bad?" Auryn's voice sounded composed.
Borin considered. "Good. If you remember why you're doing it."
Auryn nodded slowly. He turned towards the door. It opened instantly as the other guards rushed in.
While they retrieved the body. Auryn and Borin left.
Auryn's mind churned. Processing what happened even as they step out of the dungeons.
I have to fortify my house. Too many snakes.
They reached the main level. The glaring light of noon shone on his face.
"You have court in an hour."
Auryn stopped in his tracks. "Court?"
"Aye. Your advisors requested an audience. They worry for your health and some territory business to handle."
How inconvenient. He thought.
"I'll be there." He answered simply.
Borin bowed and left towards a gate at the left side of the hallway. He was going to investigate the Rusty colt tavern.
Auryn continued alone. This body's memories allow him to navigate the unknowns of this castle.
Throne Room - One Hour Later
Auryn entered through the side door. The chamber was small compared to the grand throne room where the Triarch Council met in the novel.
This was more adminstrative. Practical and simple.
There was a raised seat at the back. Six chairs arranged in a semicircle facing it..
The room was already full when he arrived.
He looked around as the flashes of memories came.
This was his inner circle. Three advisors. Older men. Nobles who managed territory affairs.
A captain of the guard. Tall. Edgy and battle worn.
A steward. Thin. Meticulous. He handled finances.
The last seat was empty.
All eyes turned to him at arrival.
Auryn's vision shifted. Author's Eyes activated. The chamber exploded in colors like splash art.
Two advisors, Silver. Loyal. The last one, crimson.
Another traitor…
The steward was pale silver veined with crimson. Recently turned.
Two of them…noted.
The captain was the silver lining. Bright silver aura. Absolute loyalty.
Whatever suspicions he'd had about the captain vanished—the man was loyal
The brightness was—overwhelming. He gritted his teeth, still keeping a neutral face. Focused. And dimmed the intensity.
Soon the colors softened. The headache that was forming eased to manageable pressure.
He settled into the throne causing the room to grow quiet.
"Begin," he said with a wave of his hand.
---
The first advisor stood. Elderly. Silver aura. He'd served since Auryn's childhood.
"Your Highness. Harvest reports from the northern villages."
He spoke on the numbers of yields and taxes. Auryn barely listened. He was tracking the auras.
The crimson advisor glanced at the steward. A quick look. Coordinating.
They're working together. Two birds with one stone huh.
The reports continued. Patrols. Bandit activity. Trade routes.
Then the elderly advisor stopped mid-sentence.
He was staring at Auryn.
"Your Highness..." His voice trailed off.
The room went silent.
"What?" Auryn asked. Fist lazy underneath his chin.
The advisor's face went pale. "Your eyes."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber like they were waiting all this while.
"What about them?" Auryn asked simply.
"They've changed," the advisor said slowly. "Your left eye is red. But the right... It's gold now."
More whispers.
"Never seen that before..."
"What does it mean?"
The crimson advisor leaned forward. Studying. "The poison did this?"
Auryn met his gaze. Holding it.
"The poison couldn't kill me." His voice cut through the whispers with absolution."It refined me."
The loyal advisors nodded slowly.
The traitors narrowed their eyes.
Auryn continued."I survived. I'm stronger. And this won't happen again."
He let the words hang.
The elderly advisor bowed his head. "We are grateful you survived, Your Highness."
Others echoed the sentiment.
Auryn watched the crimson advisor carefully. The man's expression was neutral. But his aura betrayed him. Fear flickered there.
—
The meeting concluded.
Advisors filed out. The captain remained till everybody left and then he bowed and left.
Auryn remained seated. Alone with his thoughts.
Suddenly a young human entered. His eyes were nervous,his breathing heavy.
His aura, silver and warm. He stretched a letter to Auryn. Head down and knees on the floor.
"Your Highness. This just arrived."
Auryn took it.
The wax seal showed three dragon heads. Intertwined.
The Triarch seal.
He broke it. And unfolded the parchment.
It read. By order of the Triarch Council, all princes are summoned in four days' time. Attendance is mandatory. Territorial reorganization and border defense protocols will be discussed.
Auryn read it twice. His stomach sank.
The Triarch Council
He recalled this event from the novel. One of Auryn's brothers made an attempt on his life at that meeting.
The system reacted to the development. Golden texts appeared in his vision.
══════════════════════════
[WARNING: HOSTILE EVENT APPROACHING]
[TIME REMAINING: 96 HOURS]
══════════════════════════
Auryn stared at the notification.
In four days. I'll be walking into a trap.
He stood. Waving the young man away.
Not enough time to root out all these snakes.
I need power. Real power.
A memory surfaced. He remembered it from the novel. The legendary Cinderfang Blade.
The Hero was supposed to claim it in Chapter 52.
If I take it first… I have an ace up my sleeve.
He walked towards his chambers. Eyes still moving around and he recognised one aura.
"Borin!" he called out.
The dwarf appeared from a side corridor. "My lord?"
"Prepare travel gear. Light. Fast." He said with a no nonsense tone.
Borin's eyebrows rose. "Where are we going?"
Auryn met his gaze. "To claim what the gods abandoned."
Borin's eyes widened. "When?"
"We leave tonight."