My phone vibrated against the table. I glanced at the caller ID—Mariana Valerius.
"Liam Knight speaking," I answered, keeping my voice neutral despite my exhaustion.
"You promised to visit the Celestial Apothecary Guild today," Mariana said without preamble. Her tone held a hint of reproach. "Ignazio Bellweather has been waiting for that formula you ntioned."
I rubbed my temple. With Clara's departure and the Martial Guild's new interest in , I'd completely forgotten my commitnt.
"I apologize, Pavilion Master. Recent events have been... complicated."
"So I've heard," she replied dryly. "News travels fast when you kill disciples in public courtyards."
I grimaced. Of course she would know.
"Jackson Harding is also here," she continued. "He expressed interest in seeing you again."
That caught my attention. Jackson Harding wasn't a man who waited on anyone. If he wanted to see , it must be important.
"I'll co right away—"
My phone beeped with another incoming call. The number displayed made my blood run cold: Erson Hols.
"Pavilion Master, I need to call you back," I said quickly. "Sothing urgent has co up."
I switched calls before she could respond.
"Mr. Knight," Erson's smooth voice ca through. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
"Not at all," I lied. "What can I do for you, Mr. Hols?"
"I require a eting. Tonight." His tone left no room for negotiation. "Mount Qinvor. Nine o'clock."
Mount Qinvor was a desolate area outside the city limits—not exactly the kind of place one suggested for friendly chats.
"May I ask what this concerns?" I kept my voice even.
"Matters best discussed in person," he replied. "Co alone. I'll do the sa."
The line went dead before I could respond.
I imdiately called Mariana back.
"I need to postpone our eting," I told her. "Erson Hols just contacted . He wants to et tonight."
A long pause followed. "Erson Hols personally reached out to you?" Her voice had dropped to a near whisper. "Be extrely careful, Liam. The man doesn't make social calls."
"I'm aware," I said grimly. "I'll co to the Guild tomorrow morning."
"Very well," she agreed. "And Liam? Wear the protection amulet I gave you."
After ending the call, I paced my chamber. Erson Hols was a dangerous enigma—high in the Martial Guild's hierarchy yet sohow always separate from their collective decisions. If he wanted to et privately, sothing significant was happening.
The Man with the Mustache entered without knocking, as usual.
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"You look troubled," he observed.
I briefed him on Erson's call.
"Mount Qinvor?" He frowned deeply. "That's isolation territory. Perfect place for an ambush—or a conversation no one's supposed to hear."
"Which do you think this is?"
"With Erson Hols?" He shrugged. "Could be both."
---
Night fell heavily as I drove toward Mount Qinvor. The winding road grew narrower as civilization fell away, replaced by craggy outcrops and scraggly vegetation. I'd left The Man with the Mustache behind despite his protests. If Erson detected any surveillance, the eting would be over before it began.
I parked at the base of the mountain and began the climb on foot. The moon cast long, distorted shadows across the rocky terrain, creating the illusion of movent where there was none. Or at least, where there should be none.
Sothing rustled in the underbrush to my left. I froze, extending my senses outward. Nothing. Perhaps just an animal.
As I neared the summit, I spotted a lone figure silhouetted against the night sky. Erson Hols stood with his back to , hands clasped behind him, gazing at the distant city lights.
"Beautiful view, isn't it?" he said without turning. "Veridia City glittering like stars fallen to earth."
"I didn't co for sightseeing," I replied, stopping several paces behind him.
He turned slowly. In the moonlight, his features seed carved from marble—handso, cold, and utterly without warmth.
"No, you ca because I summoned you." A thin smile curved his lips. "And you're curious about why."
"Among other things."
Erson gestured to a flat rock. "Shall we sit? This may take so ti."
I remained standing. "I prefer to keep this brief."
"As you wish." He shrugged elegantly. "I'll co directly to the point. You've beco quite the topic of discussion among my colleagues."
"I assud as much."
"They've seen the footage of your encounter with Broderick," he continued. "Your resistance to his power has... concerned certain parties."
I kept my expression neutral. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"No, you're not," Erson said with a soft laugh. "But you should be. The Guild doesn't appreciate anomalies, Mr. Knight. They prefer predictability."
"And what do you prefer, Mr. Hols?"
His eyes glinted in the darkness. "Information. Understanding. Power, in its purest forms."
I narrowed my eyes. "Why are you telling this?"
"Because unlike my short-sighted colleagues, I see opportunity where they see threat." Erson moved closer, lowering his voice though we were alone. "They want to eliminate you. I want to understand you."
"Those aren't mutually exclusive goals," I pointed out.
He laughed again, the sound echoing off the rocky terrain. "True. But I prefer my subjects alive and cooperative."
A chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the night air. "I'm not interested in becoming your research project."
"No? Not even if it ant learning the truth about your father? About that pendant you carry?"
My hand instinctively went to the jade pendant beneath my shirt. "What do you know about my father?"
"More than you might expect," he replied cryptically. "The Guild has extensive archives. Records dating back centuries. Nas, lineages... prophecies."
There was that word again—prophecies. The Man with the Mustache had ntioned them too.
"What prophecies?" I demanded.
"Patience, Mr. Knight." Erson's smile widened. "Information of that value requires an exchange."
"What do you want?"
"For now? Nothing but your discretion regarding this eting." He clasped his hands behind his back again. "In the future? Perhaps assistance with certain... inquiries."
I studied him carefully. "You're going against the Guild's wishes by eting ."
"Let's say I'm pursuing an independent research interest." Sothing shifted in his eyes—calculation, ambition. "The Guild moves too slowly, bound by tradition and caution. I prefer to act when opportunity presents itself."
A small sound—like a twig snapping—ca from behind a cluster of rocks about thirty yards away. Erson's head snapped toward the noise.
"We're not alone," he hissed.
I expanded my senses, detecting a faint presence—soone trying very hard to remain hidden.
"One person," I murmured. "Behind those rocks."
Erson's face hardened. "This eting never happened, Mr. Knight. Contact through the usual channels if you wish to continue our discussion."
Without another word, he strode away, disappearing down the mountainside with remarkable speed.
I remained where I was, focusing on the hidden observer. They weren't moving—still trying to maintain their cover.
"You can co out," I called. "He's gone."
Silence greeted my words. I walked toward the rocks, ready to defend myself if necessary.
A small electronic device glead in the moonlight—a recording device, set up to capture audio and video. But the person who planted it was gone, having slipped away during my brief conversation with Erson.
I crushed the device in my hand, but the damage was already done. Soone had evidence of my eting with Erson Hols—evidence that could be dangerous for both of us.
---
The next morning, I drove to the Celestial Apothecary Guild as promised. My mind was still processing the strange encounter with Erson and its abrupt conclusion.
Mariana Valerius waited for in her private study, a spacious room lined with ancient dical texts and rare herbs. Her ageless face betrayed nothing of her thoughts as I entered.
"You're late," she observed.
"I apologize." I handed her a sealed jade box. "The formula Ignazio requested. I've made so improvents since we last discussed it."
She accepted the box without opening it. "How was your eting with Erson Hols?"
I hesitated, weighing how much to share. "Brief. Interrupted."
Her eyebrows rose slightly. "Interrupted? By whom?"
"I'm not certain," I admitted. "Soone was recording us. Erson left imdiately when he realized."
Mariana's expression darkened. "This is troubling. Erson Hols doesn't make mistakes like eting in locations where he can be observed."
"Unless he wanted to be seen," I suggested. "With specifically."
"A possibility," she conceded. "But for what purpose?"
I shook my head. "He ntioned prophecies. Records about my father."
Mariana went very still. "Did he specify which prophecies?"
"No. He was deliberately vague."
She moved to a locked cabinet and withdrew a small scroll. "Jackson Harding asked to give you this if you ntioned prophecies. It seems his intuition was correct, as usual."
I accepted the scroll, surprised by its weight. "What is it?"
"I don't know," she replied honestly. "Jackson sealed it with an ancient technique. Only you can open it."
I studied the scroll's exterior. No markings, no clues to its contents.
"Where is Jackson now? I thought he would be here."
"He left at dawn," Mariana said. "Sothing about 'preparations being necessary.' He's always cryptic."
I carefully tucked the scroll into my inner pocket. "Thank you for this. And please thank Ignazio for his patience."
As I turned to leave, Mariana touched my arm lightly. "Liam, be careful with Erson Hols. He serves no master but himself, not even the Guild."
"I've noticed," I said dryly.
"And one more thing," she added, her voice dropping. "There's talk of internal conflict within the Guild. A man nad Bryson Gibbs has been challenging Erson's position for months. If soone was recording your eting..."
"It could have been Gibbs or one of his people," I finished for her.
She nodded grimly. "And you may have just beco a pawn in their power struggle."
---
anwhile, in a dimly lit room within the Veridia City Martial Guild, Bryson Gibbs watched footage on a large screen. His purple robes rustled as he leaned forward, a smile spreading across his face.
"Play it again," he instructed the nervous-looking man before him.
The footage restarted: Erson Hols and Liam Knight, eting secretly on Mount Qinvor, their conversation barely audible but their alliance undeniable.
"Erson Hols, you secretly made contact with Liam Knight," Bryson whispered, echoing his spy's excited words from the previous night. "You're done for."
The spy shifted uncomfortably. "Sir, I lost the recording device. Knight discovered it after Hols left."
"It doesn't matter," Bryson waved dismissively. "We have what we need. The Guild forbade any unsanctioned contact with Liam Knight, yet Erson defied that order." His smile widened. "This is the proof I've been waiting for."
He stood abruptly. "Prepare the evidence for presentation to the Council. By this ti tomorrow, I'll be wearing gold robes instead of purple, and Erson Hols will be explaining himself to the Elders."
The spy bowed and hurried out, leaving Bryson alone with the frozen image of Liam and Erson deep in conversation.
"Two birds with one stone," he mused. "Erson's career and the Knight problem, both solved at once."
He reached for his communication device, preparing to set his plan in motion. Little did he know that the power struggles of the Martial Guild were about to collide with forces far beyond his comprehension—forces that had been awakening since the mont a jade pendant had activated in the hands of an orphan nad Liam Knight.
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