Luriel smoothed the map flat with both hands, his blue eyes moving across it with focused efficiency, he had already been thinking about this before the meeting started.
"Based on what we observed," he began, "this creature does not know where it is. This is an entirely new world to it. It has no understanding of our topography, our roads, our borders, or our geography.
Which means its movements will follow a predictable logic." He tapped the map. "It has two choices. It leaves the city and enters open territory, or it remains inside and attempts to blend into the criminal elements of the lower districts."
He drew a line with his finger from the city outward. "If it left the city, which I consider the less likely option, it would not move in a straight line.
"It would zigzag, erratically at first, then settling into a direction." He paused. "You all saw its leg, one of them was metal. A prostheticof some sort."
"It would favor its working leg, which means it would naturally drift left. Following that drift, the most logical path takes it toward the forest." He moved his finger.
"Here, the Heartgrove Forest. Dense. Full of dangerous creatures. It would slow it down, but it would also provide cover. If it followed that line at the speed we witnessed in the throne room, accounting for fatigue and injury, it would currently be somewhere in this radius."
He drew a circle on the map. Then another, slightly overlapping.
"Or here, if it followed the river instead. The Alpha River runs along this edge. A wounded creature trying to move quickly would follow water. It provides direction and resources.
"But given the damage its body appeared to have sustained, I doubt it can swim. So it would follow the bank rather than cross."
He straightened up and looked at the king.
"That is where it is. One of these two areas. Most likely the forest."
Tharion studied the map for a moment. Then he looked to his left. "Apti."
The patriarch of House Cosmos looked up from the table with the expression of a man who had been hoping not to be called on. "Ye- yes,Yes, my king."
"Your house will provide teleportation. As many mages as can be mobilized. House Primal's hunters will need to be deployed across this entire circumference." He indicated the circles on the map.
Apti's expression shifted slightly. "My king, I should mention that the majority of our senior mages are currently away on contracted routes. The ones who remain in the city are largely the younger generation, students who are still completing their training—"
"Pull them out."
"My king—"
"I don't care how old they are. I don't care if they learned yesterday. If they have the ability then they are needed here. This is not a negotiation."
Tharion's voice was flat and final. "Recall everyone of them. Anyone with spatial ability reports to the east gate by first light."
Apti pressed his lips together, nodded once, and looked back at the table. "Yes, my king."
The room was quiet for a moment. Then a deep sound moved through it, it was a slow sigh. Everyone turned.
Tegran had placed both enormous hands flat on the table.
"I will build weapons." His voice was sounding like steel cables. "Luminous wood for the shafts, light crystals for the blades . It will strip its powers on contact and hold it in place."
He looked at Tharion. "They will be ready by first light. I will arm your warriors and their mounts."
He said nothing else. He put his hands back in his lap and looked at the map.
Severa's sharp teeth were visible. She was smiling. "Then let us start our preparations."
The king nodded slowly. "At first—"
The temperature dropped.
The warmth of the room disappeared, pulled out through some invisible gap, and what replaced was a deep feeling of darkness and bitter cold.
Everyone at the table felt it in their chests before they processed it consciously. Their hands moving to their weapons. Spells cast ready to be released.
The shadows in the far corner shifted with the sound of footsteps.
They were light and free, like a man walking in a park. Each one placed with the intent to be heard approaching.
A man stepped out of the darkness and into the light of the room, and he was smiling.
Tall with a lean built, the build. Long purple hair, was woven into a single thick braid that fell over one shoulder.
A scar crossed his left eye. He was dressed simply in a plain Shirt, trousers and boots. He looked like he had wandered in from a stroll.
He was still smiling.
"What is this meeting," he said, tilting his head slightly, "and why was I not invited?"
Severa was on her feet instantly, a crossbow materializing in her hands from nowhere, already raised.
"Don't." His smile didn't move. "Darling. I know you still have that temper. After all is till have the gift you gave me" he said pointing at the scar on his eye. "But this is a projection."
He spread his hands slightly, a gesture of openness. "Since you can't harm me. Wouldn't it be better to hear what I have to say first?
"And don't bother wondering how I could project through all these wards of your, I have my ways."
He turned his head toward the head of the table and offered a bow that was correct in every way and still contained an enormous amount of mockery. "Don't you agree, my king."
"Stand down." Tharion said it to Severa without looking at her.
She didn't lower the crossbow, but she didn't fire either.
"How are you, Apti?" The purple-haired man looked toward the end of the table. "You look well rounded, still snacking on that roasted goose while the missus isn't looking?."
Apti cleared his throat. "Yes i've been well, thank you."
"Good. Good." He clasped his hands behind his back. "Always nice to see a friendly face. Now, on to pressing matters."
"You were trying to keep this quiet. Understandable. Unfortunately I have eyes in these walls of yours, and they told me everything." He paused, letting out another mocking smile. "Our god. Nolthar. Praise his name—"
Elowen's palm came down on the table hard enough that the ancient wood shuddered. "Do not speak that name before me."
The purple-haired man blinked. Then his smile returned, wider.
"Someone's wounded. Ouch." He clicked his tongue once. "Yes. Your god has chosen a vessel. And you all want to find it, kill it, suppress it. Bury it before it becomes a problem." He tilted his head. "How predictable."
Nobody spoke.
"You have all had your time in the light," he continued. "The resources, the glory, the land, the freedom. Every advantage this kingdom has to offer, distributed among yourselves, generation after generation, while those of us who devoted ourselves to the true god were persecuted and forced to feed on the scraps."
His voice hadn't changed. It was still almost pleasant. That was somehow worse. "Our god has finally decided to answer our devotion. He has given us the one thing we needed, a champion."
He looked at Tharion directly.
"So while you are hunting for him, we will be doing the same. And when we find him first, we will bring him home. We will give him every resource we have. We will spare nothing. The heart of darkness itself if that is what it takes." He paused. "We will make him into the weapon that takes back everything that is ours."
"You're mad." Elowen's voice was barely above a whisper. "You would not dare."
"I dare." He said it simply. "I absolutely dare." He glanced toward Severa, who still had the crossbow raised and was vibrating with the effort of not using it. "Oh, and Severa." He smiled at her. "You look wonderful as always. Truly."
She fired.
The bolts crossed the room, they passed through him completely, the projection rippling slightly around each one like disturbed water. And they buried themselves in the wall behind him, shattering on impact, only the blades remaining embedded deep in the stone.
He looked at the bolts in the wall. Then he looked at her.
He started laughing.
It was a real laugh. Full and genuine and completely unbothered, he found the whole thing genuinely funny.
"Wash your necks, I'll be coming soon"
The shadows closed over him as the cold left the room.
Nobody spoke for a long moment.
Tharion looked at the map and sighed.