Lord Verlmir's estate stood stern atop a small rocky rise, overlooking the quiet lights of Althaar that flickered gently in the night. It wasn't as grand as the Imperial palace, but more than enough to assert the authority of a respected noble. Oil lamps lined the entry hallway, casting a yellow glow soft, but far from warm.
Lucard arrived alone.
No guards, no escort.
He wanted Verlmir to know he came not as an official envoy, but as a shadow bearing witness.
A servant opened the door and bowed deeply.
"Lord Vehlheim. Lord Verlmir is waiting in the main hall."
Lucard's steps were calm, nearly silent, his boots echoing faintly on the old marble floor.
He took in every detail the faded family crest on the wall, the old oil paintings, the scent of clove and wine prepared carefully for one thing: control.
Lord Verlmir stood by the hearth, wearing a dark robe, his beard neat, his eyes sharp though smiling. A glass of red wine swirled in his hand.
"Lord Vehlheim," he greeted warmly.
"An honor for this house. I heard you prefer quiet evenings over palace feasts?"
Lucard responded without a smile.
"I prefer places that aren't full of lies. But tonight, I'll make an exception."
Verlmir's chuckle was light but hollow.
"Ah... I like honest men. Please, sit. I hope our table matches your suspicion."
The table was well-prepared. But Lucard only glanced at the wine and bread untouched.
He stared at Verlmir like a page newly turned.
"This city has too many stories, Lord Verlmir.
Too many for a place this small."
Verlmir raised an eyebrow.
"Must every story be investigated by the Archon himself?"
Lucard didn't answer. He simply said,
"I came because the scent of blood was too sharp.
And I'm rarely wrong about blood."
Silence lingered. The fire cracked softly. Outside, the night wind tapped the window.
Verlmir sat down, adjusting his robe.
Then looked Lucard in the eyes.
"Lord Vehlheim. Allow me to speak as an old noble once loyal still hoping for Imperial regard.
This city has been left to bleed… for years.
We were ordered to bleed our own people dry to meet tax demands.
Is that loyalty, or punishment wrapped in central arrogance?"
Lucard didn't flinch.
"Loyalty is tested in silence, not complaint.
If you want to mend wounds, report it.
If you want to change it...
that's the path of treason."
Verlmir laughed softly.
"I never saw myself as a traitor.
I only want this city not to die under rulers who have never starved in winter."
Lucard dipped his head slightly.
"And you believe change comes from shadows?
From hooded men sending weapons and faceless coins?"
For a brief moment, Verlmir's eyes narrowed.
"I believe change comes…
from those brave enough to burn it all first."
Silence again wrapped the room.
Lucard stood.
"Thank you for your hospitality.
I'll remember everything especially what you didn't say."
Verlmir did not stop him.
He only stared into the fire, as if his own face burned within the flames.
"Then let us hope…
we don't meet again on bloodier ground, Lord Vehlheim."
Lucard's footsteps faded behind him as he left the estate without turning back.
The night wind greeted him once more,
carrying the scent of earth
that would soon turn black.