Absolute Sovereignty-Chapter 33: What it Was

The journey back to Vernal Keep was swift and silent. Kaelen, his mind still replaying the encounter with Red, rode with a grim determination, his gamble pressing on him.

He had offered the Crimson Hand a path to legitimacy, a chance to escape the shadows, but he knew their loyalty, if given, would be fragile, transactional. He had, however, planted a seed.

A seed of doubt, of ambition, of the possibility of a different kind of power. And now, he could only wait for it to grow, hoping it would bloom into the weapon he needed before the fires of war consumed them all.

He had given Red time to contemplate his offer, time to weigh the risks and rewards. In the meantime, Kaelen would focus on forging the Silent Guard into the weapon he needed, a force capable of defending Caldris against both internal and external threats.

Upon his return to Vernal Keep, Kaelen wasted no time.

He summoned the Silent Guard, their faces still bearing the marks of his earlier scathing assessment. He led them out of the city, their small company disappearing into the dense forest that surrounded Vernal Keep.

The forest was ancient, its trees towering, their branches intertwined like the gnarled fingers of some forgotten god. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, a primal aroma that spoke of centuries of growth and decay.

As they journeyed deeper into the forest, Kaelen began to speak, his voice low and resonant, telling tales of Caldris's history, its triumphs and tragedies, its heroes and villains.

He spoke of the Silent Guard's origins, their ancient pact with the nature spirits, their unwavering loyalty to the crown, and their unmatched skill in warfare. He painted a vivid picture of their glorious past, a contrast to their current state of decline.

"The Silent Guard were not merely soldiers," Kaelen explained, his voice echoing through the trees. "They were guardians, protectors of the realm, the shadows that shielded Caldris from harm. They were the whispers in the wind, the rustle of leaves, the silent watchers in the night, the eyes that saw all."

He spoke of their connection to the Zalathi, the ancient civilization that had once thrived in these lands, and their tragic downfall. He described the ancient rites, the trials of blood and shadow, that had forged the Silent Guard into the formidable warriors they had once been.

"The Zalathi understood the true nature of power," Kaelen continued, his gaze intense.

"They knew that strength came not from brute force, but from the harmony between the physical and the spiritual, the balance between light and darkness. Such a power was needed not for conquering, but for ensuring prosperity and life, to all those within their realm."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the faces of the assembled guards, their expressions a mixture of awe and apprehension. "The rites they developed, the trials they endured, were not meant to break them, but to forge them, to temper their spirits, to awaken the power that lay dormant within them."

Garron listened intently, his eyes wide with a mix of wonder and fear. He had heard talks of the Zalathi mostly from the prince, their lost civilization, their forbidden magic, but he had never truly grasped the depth of their connection to Caldris.

Commander Lyra, her face pale but resolute, also listened intently, the prince's words stirring deep within her, a rekindling of the pride and loyalty that had begun to wane.

As they journeyed deeper, the forest grew darker, the trees denser, their branches intertwined like the skeletal fingers of some forgotten god. The air grew heavy, charged with energy that made the hairs on their arms stand.

Finally, after hours of trekking through the dense undergrowth, they reached their destination.

A clearing emerged, bathed in an ethereal light that seemed to emanate from the earth itself. In the center of the clearing stood the ruins of an ancient Zalathi temple, its stone walls crumbling, its carvings weathered and worn, yet still radiating an aura of power and mystery, as though they were speaking a language that most could not understand.

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Vines and creepers snaked across its surface, nature slowly reclaiming what time had ravaged.

The temple was not grand, not opulent like the structures of Valdrathar, but it possessed a dignity, a sense of ancient wisdom that resonated with the soul. It was a place of power, a place of secrets, a place where the veil between worlds felt thin.

As the Silent Guard entered the clearing, a hush fell over them.

The air grew still, the rustling of leaves ceasing, the whispers of the wind dying away. They stood in silence, their gazes fixed on the ruins, a sense of awe and apprehension washing over them. They felt it then, a shift in the atmosphere, a presence that was both ancient and... alien.

They were not alone.