Betrayal

Renjiro stood in a desolate, shadowy expanse. The air was heavy with a mist that veiled everything around him in shadows. The sky churned with ominous red lightning, each strike illuminating the barren ground beneath his feet. He turned slowly, searching for any sign of familiarity, but all he found was emptiness.

Then, a sudden force pulled him forward. The world twisted, bending as though he were being sucked into a vortex. Renjiro staggered, falling to his knees. When the spinning stopped, he found himself in a different place—still lonely, but with a strange, chilling presence that made his heart race.

In the distance, a figure emerged from the mist. The being had slick black hair that shimmered even in the dull light, chains flowing from his body and clinking softly as he moved. His crimson eyes glowed like embers, cutting through the haze to lock onto Renjiro’s soul.

Renjiro tried to stand, but his body refused to obey. As the figure moved closer, he remained on his knees, frozen in place. A deafening silence filled the air, louder than any noise.

The figure tilted his head, his expression unreadable. Then, as if the air cracked under pressure, everything shattered into darkness.

Renjiro gasped, bolting upright in his bed. His chest heaved as his heart pounded against his ribs. Sweat dripped down his face as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Renjiro?” Emi’s voice broke through his panic. She sat at the edge of his bed, her face etched with concern. “Are you okay?”

Renjiro blinked, trying to ground himself. “Yeah… I… I had a weird dream,” he murmured, rubbing his temples.

“What kind of dream?” Emi pressed gently.

Renjiro hesitated, the details already fading like smoke. “I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. There was this… figure. He felt… wrong. He was watching me, but not just watching—more than that.”

Emi frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s probably just the stress. You’ve had a rough time.”

“Maybe,” Renjiro muttered, though the unease lingering in his chest told him otherwise.

Before Emi could respond, the door to their room burst open. Taro stumbled inside, pale and panting, sweat glistening on his face.

“Taro?” Emi stood quickly, moving toward him. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Taro waved her off, struggling to catch his breath. “The… the Crimson Dynasty,” he managed between gasps. “They were here.”

Renjiro’s eyes widened. “What?”

Taro nodded frantically. “I saw them— he looked like a noble. He came with Crimson soldiers. He’s trying to make a deal with the council.”

“What kind of deal?” Emi asked, her voice urgent.

“To turn you in,” Taro said, pointing at Renjiro. “They want the Yellow Clan to join forces with the Red Clan to destroy the Blue Clan. And Zaryth offered them land, resources, everything. They just have to hand you over.”

Renjiro’s heart sank. “They’re offering an alliance… for me?”

Emi grabbed his arm. “We can’t stay here. If the Yellow Clan even considers their offer, we’re finished. We need to leave. Now.”

Renjiro nodded, determination flashing in his eyes. “Let’s get the others.”

The three of them quickly gathered their things and slipped out of the room, moving with quiet urgency.

Meanwhile, at the council chamber, Dreyva, the Supreme Councillor, paced before the table of councilors. They exchanged heated words, their voices growing louder with each passing moment.

“This proposal is absurd,” Dreyva said sharply, slamming her hands on the table. “Joining the Red Clan? Destroying the Blue Clan? Have we all lost our minds?”

Tavik leaned back in his chair, his broad shoulders and calm demeanor a stark contrast to Dreyva’s fiery passion. “You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment,” he said. “The Red Clan’s offer is an opportunity—a chance to secure resources, land, and prosperity for the Solaris Empire. Imagine what we could achieve.”

Dreyva shot him a glare. “At what cost? Do you honestly believe Zaryth or Theron will honor their promises? They are conquerors, Tavik—manipulators who will bleed us dry the moment it suits them.”

“They’ve offered peace,” Tavik countered, his voice rising. “Theron may be ruthless, but he’s pragmatic. He has no reason to break a deal that benefits us both.”

Dreyva stepped closer, her tone venomous. “And what happens when his ambitions grow beyond the Blue Clan? When he decides the Solaris Empire is a threat? Will you trade away your soul for a few scraps of land and resources?”

Tavik stood, his gaze hardening. “You speak of threats that may never come. I speak of ensuring our survival. Are you so blind as to risk the future of our people for your misplaced sense of loyalty?”

Dreyva’s fists clenched. She turned to the rest of the council, her voice ringing with authority. “I am Supreme Councillor, and I have the final say. Betraying the Blue Clan is wrong. I won’t trade our integrity for the hollow promises of tyrants.”

The room fell into a tense silence. Then, Tavik straightened his expression.

“You may not agree with us, Dreyva,” he said, his tone eerily calm, “but the council has decided. This is for the betterment of our people.”

Dreyva’s brow furrowed. “The council has no authority to override my decree.”

She turned toward the guards stationed near the chamber doors. “You two, follow me. I will personally ensure the safety of the recruits.”

Dreyva’s sharp gaze turned to Tavik, her voice slicing through the tense air. “You are not the Supreme Councillor, Tavik. You do not make the decisions here. Know your place.”

Tavik’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, though he quickly masked his irritation with a calm façade. He folded his hands behind his back, his gaze cool and calculating. “Of course, Councillor. I merely offer my perspective, as always.”

Dreyva’s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer before she turned to the guards stationed near the chamber’s entrance. “You two, head to the recruits’ quarters. Ensure they are where they should be. Report back immediately.”

“Yes, Councillor,” the guards said in unison, bowing slightly before exiting the room.

Tavik remained silent as Dreyva returned her attention to the council. He stood slightly apart from the others, his expression carefully neutral, but his fingers twitched ever so slightly at his side—a subtle betrayal of the bitterness simmering within him.

Minutes later, the chamber doors burst open, and the guards re-entered, their expressions urgent. One of them stepped forward, saluting.

 “Supreme Councillor, the recruits are gone. Their quarters are empty.”

 “Gone?”

 “It appears they slipped away undetected.”

“Alert the soldiers. Lock down the Horizon Centre and the surrounding sectors. I want them found immediately.”

“Yes, Councillor,” the guard replied, saluting once more before exiting with haste.

The other guards and council members dispersed as well, each moving to carry out her orders.

As the room cleared, Tavik stepped toward Commander Ryvok, lowering his voice. “Commander, a word.”

Ryvok paused, glancing at the councilors leaving the chamber before turning to Tavik. “What is it, sir?”

 “When your men find the recruits, bring them to me personally. No one else needs to know.”

Ryvok hesitated,  “Councillor Dreyva ordered that they be brought back to her.”

“Yes, but Dreyva doesn’t understand what’s at stake. These recruits could prove… valuable. Especially the boy.”

Ryvok’s expression faltered, “And what exactly do you plan to do with them?”

“Only what is necessary to ensure the safety and prosperity of the Solaris Empire,” Tavik said smoothly. His gaze hardened, and his tone grew firmer. “You are a soldier, Ryvok. Follow orders.”

 “Understood.”

He turned sharply, summoning his troops and barking orders to search every corner of the Horizon Centre. But as he moved away, his mind churned with unease.

Tavik watched him go, his composed demeanor concealing the growing satisfaction within him. His plans were already falling into place.