corlis
In a dimly lit room, illuminated only by the glow of two candles and the fire in the hearth, vortex sat in a wide chair, staring into the flames as if interrogating them about the future. His fingers toyed slowly with a black grape, then crushed it between them with the same coldness that clung to the room's scented walls. Heavy curtains sealed the chamber from the world outside.
Gareth entered with slow steps, the echo of his boots audible in the quiet. His forty-something face, marked with some wrinkles, was covered by a thin, dark red beard. His sleepy yellow eyes gave him the look of a killer more than that of a knight. A tattoo of a monster skull peeked from his neck as memory of his past. He bowed slightly and said, his face taut like a drawn bowstring: "It's done... The queen is dead. Nile bathed in her blood, but he escaped... and took Prince Corlis with him."
vortex remained silent for a moment, as if he had been waiting for this sentence for years. Then he said, with a cold tone tinged with a faint thrill, "Exactly as planned…" He turned toward the closed window and added, "Let him run now as he pleases... the road ahead is dark, and I drew its map."
The silver moonlight crept in from behind the heavy curtains and reflected off a half-dismantled armor near the fireplace. The faint fire whispered among the logs, casting a dancing shadow over vortex's motionless features. He ran his fingers slowly along the rim of a wine glass, then lifted his eyes toward Gareth and asked in a calm voice: "Did any of the queen's guards survive?"
Gareth replied in a dry tone: "Only one was killed. The other three are still alive."
vortex closed his eyes for a moment, as if savoring how all the threads were holding in place, then opened them and said, "Good... It's good Nile didn't kill them all. They'll be the witnesses. They'll say what must be said... That Nile Garow killed the queen and kidnapped the prince."
Silence filled the room, broken only by the whispering wind at the windows' edges and the fractured moonlight spilling over the marble floor like cold blood. Gareth stepped forward two paces, his tall frame casting a solemn, ominous shadow.
He slowly turned his head, his yellow eyes gleaming like a hyena's in the dark, then said in a calm tone, "The queen is dead... and no one in the palace knows yet. When will you announce it?"
Vortex didn't respond immediately. He rose from his leather chair with heavy steps, as if burdened with more than his own weight, and walked toward the window.
The moon reflected his features like a statue of cold stone—still, emotionless, without grief or remorse.
At last, he spoke in a low, confident voice: "Wait until dawn... I'll call for an emergency council. There, I will announce what must be announced."
Then, without turning his face, he continued as if slicing an invisible thread in the air: "Take the One-Faced men with you. Watch the Garow family's house closely... Nile might do something foolish and return to them."
Gareth remained silent for a moment, then nodded cautiously, like someone accepting something that needed no explanation. He then turned and left the room, his footsteps dissolving into the marble's echo, while vortex stood still before the window, staring into the darkness of the night.
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As the first threads of dawn broke, a pale gray light crept into the abandoned house, slipping through decayed cracks and dusty windows.
Upstairs, where the wind howled through rotting wood, Corlis sat in the corner like a statue carved from fear, shoulders hunched, knees drawn to his chest, arms wrapped around himself as if trying to fold into his own body.
His reddened eyes stared into emptiness—unblinking, unmoving, as if frozen on the scene of his mother's death. His eyelids quivered, his chapped lips whispered the same words again and again, in a faint voice as if they were the last remnants of his sanity: "Mother… isn't dead… Mother isn't dead…"
On the other side of the room, Nile stood in torn clothes, his sword stained with dried blood, watching the outside through broken glass.
His eyes were fixed on every movement. He turned his head toward Corlis, took a deep breath, and walked calmly toward him—closing the distance between shock and reality.
Nile knelt before Corlis, placing his hands on his shoulders and gently shaking him, his voice low but sharp: "Corlis, look at me!"
Corlis slowly lifted his head, staring at him with wide, betrayed eyes. His voice was broken, but it burst out suddenly: "You abandoned my mother! You left her there! Didn't you say you'd protect her, Nile?!"
Nile lowered his head for a few seconds, as if the words had pierced his core. Then he lifted his eyes steadily and said in a calm voice, dry as a blade's edge: "It was too late… The queen is dead, and nothing can bring her back. vortex orchestrated all of this… He took control of her guards, turned them into tools for his betrayal."
He paused, then continued: "Our path no longer lies in the palace. We must retreat, regroup, gather everyone who stands with us… I promise you, Corlis… This won't go unpunished. I will avenge her—with these hands. vortex will pay the price."
Corlis kept staring at him—shocked, shaken, but deep inside, he began to grasp the bitter truth. No response came, but it was there… in the look, in the heavy silence.
Nile pulled the hood over his head, then drew the cloak around his body like a dark shadow walking among the wreckage. His steps were calm, but his eyes held a suppressed tension, like someone bracing to dive into a storm he might not survive.
Corlis turned toward him suddenly, his voice faint, as if his chest barely allowed him to speak: "Where… are you going?"
Nile stopped at the door, looked at him steadily, and said: "I'll check the situation outside. And I'll try to contact my father… vortex is surely watching my family. I can't risk taking you… but you'll be safe here, for a while."
Corlis felt no safety. His shattered heart had been screaming since his mother's death. He looked at him with tired eyes, his hoarse voice sounding as if the words burned inside: "And what if something happens to you… too?"
Nile didn't reply at once. He simply stepped closer and placed his hand on Corlis's shoulder. A light touch, but enough to awaken all the memories, whispers of the past, promises of protection, the reassuring looks he'd received from this man again and again.
He said in a low voice, as if hiding fear behind confidence: "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. But if I don't return before sunset… run. Leave the city. Head for Wave City, to the Reaves family."
Corlis froze, his pupils widening in silent terror. His gaze drifted, as if hearing words in a foreign language. The fear wasn't in the thought of fleeing… but in the thought that Nile might not return. That he'd be left alone again. That he'd lose the last person he had left.
He felt a chill crawl up his spine, clenched his hand unconsciously, his eyes unblinking, his face pale as if on the verge of vomiting. But he didn't speak. He just slowly nodded. a silent, defeated agreement.
Nile gave a faint smile, a final attempt to reassure him, then turned and silently opened the door. The gray morning light slipped into the room, swallowing his figure before he closed the door behind him and vanished.
Corlis remained standing in the same spot... motionless, as if the air had grown heavier. The room suddenly felt larger, colder, and more silent. And it seemed to him that time itself had stopped, waiting… either for Nile's return, or for everything to collapse.