The Warden's office at Sovereign Lake was not a place of bureaucracy. It was a sanctuary of silence.
Built directly into the high cliff wall overlooking the dark, bruised-iron water of the central reservoir, the office was heavily soundproofed against the perpetual roar of the automated sluice gates below. There were no ticking clocks. There were no grinding gears.
Vistra Gorvaxis sat at her heavy oak desk, entirely alone in the absolute quiet.
She stared at the object resting on the center of her blotter. It was the piece of worked stonesteel the Hydra had given her nearly fifty years ago. It was roughly the size of her fist, shaped with an impossible, almost liquid curvature. It was incredibly heavy, completely smooth, and possessed no visible seams or tool marks. It was a gift from a god's companion.
Vistra touched it carefully, her fingers tracing the smooth metal.
