Volume 2 – Inheritance of Fire
Chapter 8 – The Fifth Table
Part 1 - The First Two
We were still gathered in the high council chamber beneath Hollowreach Tower.
A room not designed for royalty or war.
A room built for truth.
The air was still. No fire in the hearth. No spells lit. Only the dim glow of runes etched into the table — the shape of five interlocking arcs.
Each tied to one of us.
I placed my hand on the table's center rune and let the circle ignite.
"We need to stop guessing," I said. "We've been scattered. Alone. Inside lives we didn't choose but now carry. If we're going to survive—if we're going to move forward—we need to consolidate everything we know about this world. About who we were… and who we've replaced."
I looked at each of them in turn.
"Tell it all. Power. Politics. History. Magic. Territory. And the people who once called you theirs."
The silence broke — not with hesitation.
With Darius.
Darius – Marshal of the Outer Spine
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, face carved from stone.
"I woke up in a fortress made of granite and hate. Five days into a siege."
His voice was low. Measured.
"I'm Marshal Kael Valrik. Commander of the North Wall Legions, protector of the Spineholds, and the last line between the fractured north and the beastlands."
He looked down at his gloved hands.
"The man before me was feared. Not loved. Never loved. He held control by threat, by tradition, by surviving every battle he shouldn't have. His soldiers followed him because no one else could wear the armor long enough to stay alive."
Darius met my eyes.
"And now I wear it."
He opened a leather scroll and laid it across the table — a map, inked by hand.
"My territory stretches from the western cliff gates to the Iron Scar. Fifteen minor forts. Four major keeps. Rough terrain. Poor crops. Strong people. Starving people. We as of the day of the summit are now blood sworn allies to Caelan and his Kingdom".
He pointed to a broken line near the border.
"This used to be the kingdom of Ovrien. Collapsed. I've absorbed three of their provinces. I control two bloodbound mercenary banners and a smithing order that forges mana-steel without a ritual circle."
Ezra raised an eyebrow.
Darius nodded. "They keep it secret. Even from me."
"And magic?" I asked.
His expression darkened.
"I've got a blade that drinks heat. A breastplate that rejects light. But no casting. No channeling. Not yet."
Naomi asked softly, "And Kael Valrik… what did he want? Before you?"
Darius's knuckles tapped the table once.
"He wanted to unite the North under one flag. And burn the South for what it forgot."
Soren – Chancellor of Vel Arden
Soren cleared his throat and uncorked a bottle of goldleaf gin he'd somehow acquired from a sealed cellar.
"My name is Chancellor Vel Arden of Velisport," he said, voice smooth as silk cut on glass. "I control one of the three Free Coin Cities along the Sapphire Coast. We trade in everything: silk, information, stolen artifacts, blood rights, illusions. If it has a value, I've leveraged it."
He poured two fingers of liquor and didn't offer to share.
"The man I became — he's not just a merchant. He's a sovereign without a throne. A shadow emperor. Behind closed doors, he chairs something called the Sovereign Compact — a hidden league of trade guilds that manipulate regional politics through embargo and staged debt collapses."
He leaned forward.
"My house crest is protected by thirty oathbound assassins. My vault holds enough enchanted silver to buy a country. I've personally funded two wars I never appeared in. And the city's god-priests owe me favors."
"And magic?" Naomi asked.
He smiled faintly.
"I can't cast. But I can own those who do."
He gestured to a small sapphire ring on his hand. "Enchanted with a compulsive loyalty weave. Not strong enough for full mind control… but good enough to make most question their own motives."
"And Vel Arden," I said. "What did he want?"
Soren's eyes darkened.
"He wanted to live forever. And he believed the key was mana stored in blood."