1. Siderus

"Can't be late," I murmur to myself as I slip out of my room, adjusting my embroidered tunic that's fitted closely to my frame.

I stride purposefully through the tall stone corridors of my family"s ancestral manor, my booted footsteps echoing off the polished marble floors. As heir to our noble house, I have walked these hallowed halls since childhood, absorbing the lessons of history contained in every painting, statue, and carved emblem adorning the walls.

Down one side passage I go, passing a suit of armor so ancient its origins are lost to time. A left turn then brings me to a heavy wooden door bearing the insignia of my lineage - two crossed swords beneath a proud crown. Beyond lies my uncle"s study, where I have spent countless hours receiving instruction befitting my station.

As the only child, responsibility for both house and lands fell to me at a young age, after the tragic loss of my parents some twelve summers past. It was midsummer when they embarked upon a voyage up the rugged coast, only to meet their end when a sudden storm dashed their vessel against the treacherous shoreline. No bodies were ever recovered from the fierce surf.

With no remaining kin, guardianship passed to my mother"s brother, Duke Caspian. As my uncle and new lord, he became both my guardian and teacher, determined to shape me into a leader who would bring honor to our noble name.

Ever since, the weight of expectation has borne down upon me - here I stand today, on the threshold of cementing both my house"s future and my own through the tasks set before me.

I rap my knuckles upon the stout oak barrier, steeling myself as always for the tasks that await within, where my uncle no doubt has more lessons and commands to impart. The past cannot be rewritten, but the future is mine to guide - I enter at his bidding, resolute to prove my mettle once more.

I take a deep breath before knocking on the large wooden door that leads to my uncle Caspian"s office. Though he has raised me since I was a child, there is never any casualness between us. Uncle Caspian expects nothing but perfection from me as the heir to our line.

"Enter," comes his deep voice from within. I push open the heavy door and step into the spacious office. Uncle Caspian sits behind his ornate desk, going over paperwork as is his usual. His intense violet eyes flick up to meet mine. "Ah, Siderus. Have a seat."

I nod respectfully and sit opposite him. The office smells of wood polish and smoke from the fire crackling in the hearth. Portraits of our ancestors line the walls, their stern faces watching over us. I watch as my uncle organizes his papers, taking his time before addressing me.

"You know of the business deal years ago with Marquis Liaric that cost us considerable funds," he begins, his tone clipped. I nod silently. It is a tale I"ve heard many times from these very lips. "The terms were that we would provide raw magical materials to the Marquis"s apothecary shops on credit. They were to repay us within the season."

"However, when the time came for repayment, the Marquis claimed several shipments never arrived and refused to pay the full sum owed," my uncle continues, a sneer curling his lip at the remembered betrayal. "Despite our records proving the shipments were delivered as agreed. That filthy low-caste Marquis cheated a Slayer out of our rightful payment!"

He grits his teeth, magic flaring between his fists. A small detail filters through my mind as the silence stretches between us. I know that my uncle sent men to threaten the Marquis. I'm also pretty certain he's harmed some of the Marquis' family, and yet, the dark elf never yielded. Which is probably why my uncle is still scorned.

His fist slams down on the desk, making me jump. I nod sympathetically. "I have never forgotten the slight to our house, Uncle. A debt unpaid is a stain upon our honor." My agreement only seems to infuriate him more.

"Honor? That slimy Liaric knows nothing of honor! He lied through his pointed teeth just to line his pockets at our expense," Uncle Caspian snarls, beginning to pace the length of the richly carpeted floor. I say nothing, allowing him this venting. Better he releases his rage to me than taking it out on others.

"All these years and it still infuriates me! I've longed to wipe that smug smile from his face and put him in his place. To show all of Orthani what happens when you dare to cross a Slayer," he seethes, spinning to pin me with his intense gaze. "Which is why I have a task for you, Nephew. It is time we repaid Marquis Liaric for the debt that remains unpaid. With interest."

I nod thoughtfully as my uncle continues raging about the injustice of Marquis Liaric"s actions. His fury is frightening to behold, yet I understand it well - the insult to our house must not stand. As my uncle, ideas begin taking shape.

The Liaric lands lie just over the mountain passes, their estate cut off from much contact with outsiders. This isolation could work to our advantage. If someone were to gain entry into the manor under false pretenses, they may find weaknesses to exploit. But how to get a man inside unnoticed?

A thought comes to me then. I recall whispers at court of the Marquis keeping an alleged "sickly daughter" hidden away for her protection. But no daughter has ever been seen publicly. What secret is the Marquis hiding behind those walls? There is weakness to be found, I"m certain, if one only knew where to look.

As I consider methods for gaining access to the Marquis"s household, an idea forms that may please my uncle.

"Have you considered how the Liaric family never leaves their home," I begin. "It makes me wonder what is hidden behind those walls."

My uncle eyes me keenly. "Out with it, boy. What have you come up with?"

"It has been said the Marquis keeps a mysterious daughter locked away. But none have seen proof of her existence," I continue. "What purpose could he have in propagating such rumors? More importantly, what is he hiding?"

Uncle strokes his chin thoughtfully. "Yes, strange indeed. Go on..."

"I propose sending a man into their home under the pretense of wishing to court this supposed daughter. With flattery and gift bearing, he could infiltrate the estate and learn its inner workings." I watch for Uncle"s reaction.

A slow, wicked smile spreads on his lips. "A man inside their gates is an opportunity indeed. But how would we ensure he gains their trust without suspicion?"

"Have him claim distant lineage from a minor household, one they will trust" I reply. "Bent on restoring his family name, seeking an alliance. They will see the advantage in such a union, despite his low status."

Uncle nods in approval. "A clever scheme, Siderus. You have the right of it - there is weakness behind those walls, I feel it." Then, he shakes his head firmly. "But this is a mission that requires finesse. You will go yourself, Siderus."

I frown. "If I am recognized, the whole plan will fail before it begins. Let me choose our man well, one who can play the part."

"And what if your man lacks skill or nerve?" Uncle retorts. "We need a steady hand. As my heir, you are best suited."

And I know what he is thinking: he trusts very few people. He doesn't want to send someone else.

"With all respect, my presence at the Liaric estate could raise suspicions." I reply carefully. "They know my face, not only yours, from your past dealings. It may have been years, but I have no doubt that the Marquis will recognize me. Let me operate from the shadows."

Uncle slams a hand on the desk, making me flinch. "You question my judgment? I did not raise you to cower! This task needs to be handled by you, Nephew."

I swallow, holding my ground. "A lesser name may allay their guard. They will expect no threat from a minor house."

It's clear that the memories of Liaric"s tricks against my uncle stir my anger. "The Marquis must not think this a trivial matter!" Uncle snarls. "I want him to know what is coming for him!"

"It is too great a risk. Let me start with surveillance alone, so that I may learn their routine and weaknesses." I say through gritted teeth. "Then strike when the moment is ripe."

A sharp rap sounds at the heavy oaken door, interrupting us before I can answer. "Enter," Uncle calls, his earlier irritation only growing at the interruption.

The door swings open to reveal one of the household servants, a young elf. He dips into a low bow. "Forgive the interruption, my Lords, but I believe I have news that may interest you." My uncle for years has had his servants keeping tabs on the Marquis so this doesn't surprise me.

Uncle waves a hand for him to continue. "While tending my duties in the city, I overheard two ladies in gossip. It seems the Marquis Liaric is holding a masquerade ball this evening." He relays, glancing between us. "And it seems he invited nearly the whole city. It will be packed."

Uncle"s eyes gleam as they meet my own. "Is that so? How fortuitous."

I nod slowly, pieces falling into place. "A masquerade ball? Then identities can easily be concealed… Which means one could slip among their ranks without them realizing."

A wicked smile spreads on Uncle"s face. "It seems you have found your way in, Siderus."

A matching smirk spreads across my face. "How could I say no when it seems to be fate?"