The dinner table at Raven’s Nest was cloaked in a silence so thick it might’ve been woven from shadows. The only sounds brave enough to puncture it were the delicate clinks of cutlery and the gentle rustle of silk robes and sleeves. Corvin, seated like an unmoved mountain at the head of the grand obsidian table, he was not just dining, he was reading. Not from books, but from minds. He quietly probed the thoughts of Magus Thaelys Silvernight of the Umbral Synod and Magus Kelorien Hearthleaf of the Aurelian Dominion. Every surface smile, every carefully chosen word, was peeled away to expose ambitions, fears, and private goals.
As he finished his meal, Corvin placed his fork and knife together on his plate at the five o’clock angle, the universal sign of completion. It was a subtle gesture, straight from the etiquette drills of Sandhurst’s mess halls, an irony he often reflected on. What Verthalis hailed as elegant nobility was, in fact, military formality from another life. Flawless posture, minimal movement, signals embedded in action: all hallmarks of aristocracy here, and yet, mere protocol where he came from.
Noticing his gesture, the rest of the table mirrored him. The envoys laid down their utensils in the same manner, prompting the well trained maids to step forward, gliding in complete silence to begin clearing the plates. Corvin took a final, measured sip from his goblet, then raised his eyes. His gaze cut across the table like a drawn blade.
"I’m listening," he said with a calm finality that demanded honesty.
Magus Thaelys rose first. She moved with precision, her robes flowing as if obeying ritual. Her demeanor had changed completely from their first meeting, now layered with reverence and political polish.
"Your Grace," she said, her voice velvet over steel. She bowed slightly deeper than required, an acknowledgment of the shift in power dynamics. "I extend my deepest apologies. Had I known of your true station, my earlier manner would have reflected due deference. Fortunately, our lovely Magistra," she nodded toward Valyne with a smile so sharp it might cut steel "helped illuminate matters, perhaps more boldly than she intended."
Valyne winced. Her entire posture screamed regret, her cheeks burning redder than fine wine. She began to open her mouth, but a subtle shake of Thaelys’ head silenced her.
Thaelys pressed on. "You are elven by blood and origin. And through this sacred bond, you are part of us. As a Planarch and high ranking member of the Umbral Synod, the Obsidian Gate formally invites you to register under our banner for the forthcoming Planar Invasion."
She paused, her next words delivered with intentional grace. "Should you have any requests, military, arcane, or personal, the Synod stands ready to accommodate. I, of course, remain available should you wish to explore the finer points... in a more private setting."
Her gaze slid to Kelorien with all the warmth of frostbite before she sat, her hands folded demurely.
Kelorien rose next. Unlike Thaelys, her bow was stiff, rooted in diplomatic precision rather than courtly elegance.
"Duke Blackmoor, Planarch... Words struggle to capture the rarity and honor of this encounter."
He glanced toward Thaelys, his tone growing firmer. "The Aurelian Dominion also extends its invitation. We understand your station and position as a member of the Umbral Synod, and we respect it. But we would be honored beyond measure should you choose to stand with us during the coming trials."
She hesitated, then added, "All that we possess, resources, relics and lore could be made available to you. And the Dominion would be willing to open discussions on expanded access to the Grove Libraries and Relic Vaults."
Corvin remained silent for a time, watching both with a look that could be mistaken for amusement or calculation. Then, in a low voice, he said:
"Very well. Private meetings. Tomorrow afternoon. Separately."
He stood, giving neither of them another glance, and left the hall. The maids bowed as he passed, the heavy doors closing behind him with the soft finality of a sealed pact.
As if finally released from a tension spell, Kelorien turned to Valyne with a smirk tugging at her lips. "Thank you, Magistra. That revelation served the Dominion most favorably."
Valyne, still pale and mortified, looked as though she’d prefer to disintegrate into mist. Her thoughts raced with the weight of her mistake, the political consequences echoing louder with every breath.
Only Kaelyn, Thaelys, and Valyne remained at the table, aside from the impassive maids lining the walls.
Thaelys turned to Valyne, her voice syrupy and sharp. "You will come to my chambers in half an hour. We have... things to address."
Valyne nodded meekly, shoulders sagging under the weight of her own blunder. She didn’t just ruin a dinner. She had, in the span of a few excited breaths, potentially altered the entire alignment of Thalasien’s power in the upcoming invasion.
It wasn’t just the worst dinner of her life, it was one for the history books.
Valyne walked toward Thaelys’ chambers as if being led to the gallows. Her pace was slow, dread pressing down on her shoulders like a physical weight. In her mind, she was a traitor. No one had told her so, but she had already declared herself guilty. The moment she raised her hand and blurted out Corvin’s rank before the envoys, she’d condemned herself.
She knocked once. The door opened silently, and a maid stepped out without a word. Valyne entered. Thaelys Silvernight sat poised in an armchair like a judge awaiting sentencing. No seat was offered. Valyne remained standing, eyes lowered.
"Since when have you known of Corvin Blackmoor’s Archmagus status?" Thaelys asked coldly.
Valyne answered at once, her voice trembling. "Since he was in my class at Umbraxis Arcanum. I assumed the Triarchy knew already... He was a mercenary, but I thought his ties to Synod were official."
"Why didn’t you inform anyone?" Thaelys followed, her tone clipped.
"Because... I thought I was the one uninformed," Valyne whispered. "Not the other way around."
Thaelys studied her for a long moment. Then came the final blow: "Did you expose his ascension to Planarch level in front of the Aurelian diplomat on purpose?"
Valyne’s eyes widened in horror. "No!" she cried, tears brimming instantly. "Never! I would rather slit my own throat than betray the Dark Mother."
Thaelys’ gaze softened slightly. "Do you know why I’ve taken no action against you, Magistra?"
Valyne shook her head, barely able to speak.
"Because you are still alive," Thaelys said, folding her hands. Her tone carried a warmth that only made the dread worse.
"Do you remember the oath you took upon joining Umbraxis Arcanum?"
Valyne closed her eyes, recalling her fifteen year old self, kneeling and speaking the sacred vow: Under no circumstance will I betray the Umbral Synod. Under no circumstance will I act against the interests of the Obsidian Gate.
She opened her eyes, sharp turquoise meeting Thaelys’. "Yes. Yes, I remember."
"That oath would have severed your soul from your body had your actions been rooted in betrayal," Thaelys said gently. "But what you did was born of emotion, not malice. Still, you exposed a Planarch of the Synod."
She rose then, slow and composed. "Do you know why Archmagus Vaelorin assigned you this task, Valyne?"
Valyne shook her head again.
"Because you are the only person at the Arcanum whom our newest Planarch tolerated. He never engaged with instructors execpt to quench his thirst for knowledge. Never spoke unless required. But in your class, he did so. He debated. He listened. He engaged."
Thaelys paced slowly, her voice shifting from cold reprimand to measured revelation. "Perhaps it’s your beauty, undeniably the most radiant I’ve seen in centuries or your intellect, your curiosity, your purity, your mind, your flaws. Or something entirely different. But you are the anomaly in his pattern."
Valyne stood frozen, her breath caught in her chest.
"The same Raven who left the Obsidian Gate, who stood against the Triarchy. The same Raven who razed Holy Verrenate, killed the Pontiff, and crushed a kingdom. He tolerates you."
Valyne nodded mutely.
"That tolerance is not an opportunity to abuse," Thaelys warned. "It is a gift. Use it wisely. We don’t want you to spy. We are not that stupid! Even our best Shadows cannot hide from him. What we do want is presence. You will be our presence beside him. You will be his bridge to us."
She waved a hand. "You may go."
Valyne turned, heart thudding. Outside the room, she leaned against the wall, trembling. Everything felt heavier now. Her feet carried her slowly back toward her chambers.
As she walked, Thaelys’ words echoed in her ears. Even our best Shadows cannot hide from him. Then she remembered what Sir Shadow had told her back on the ship: Be careful with your thoughts, Magistra. We may find them amusing. He may not.
How foolish she had been.
She reached her room in a daze, shut the door, and pressed her back against it. Her breath came shallow. Her hands trembled.
Then, as if damming a flood, she shouted: "YES!"
She startled even herself.
"Yes. I like him," she admitted into the silence. "I like the way he walks, the way he talks. The way he looks at me like I’m his prey. The way I want to be caught. His power doesn’t frighten me, never did, it draws me."
She paced the room, voice rising. "Dark Mother help me... I want him to look at me the way he did that day in the throne room. Like I was a puzzle he wanted to solve. Or consume."
A knock on the door made her jump. She composed herself as quickly as she could, wiping her face.
"The master calls for you," the woman said simply, her expression unreadable.
Valyne swallowed hard and nodded. Time to face the Raven.
Valyne followed the maid through the winding corridors of Raven’s Nest, her heart pounding harder with each step. The shadows flickered on the stone walls, torchlight dancing like silent witnesses to her dread. When they reached the massive oak door carved with arcane runes, the maid knocked softly before pushing it open. "Master," she announced with a respectful bow, "I’ve brought the magistra as ordered."
Corvin stood by the window, moonlight streaming over his towering frame. He looked down upon the moon bathed farmlands like a quiet god surveying his domain. Without turning, he gave a curt nod. The maid bowed again and slipped out, the door closing with a muted thud behind her.
Valyne hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should move or speak. The silence in the room felt heavier than stone. Eventually, she stepped forward and cleared her throat. Her voice, though soft, carried the weight of shame and guilt.
"I... I don’t know how to properly address you now that you’ve ascended to Planarch. I wasn’t aware that the Obsidian Gate didn’t know of your Archmagus rank. I’m sorry... for exposing your ascension. I didn’t mean to. It just... the aether around you, it was overwhelmingly beautiful. Even Archmagus Vaelorin and Rector Vaelis... the only other Archmagus’ i’ve seen.. their presence doesn’t compare. I should have known, but I didn’t think.."
Her words faltered, the shame and confusion catching in her throat. Corvin turned to face her at last, silent and still. His gaze swept over her with intensity, studying every feature.
She was exquisite. Her height just over 1.6 meters, her silver blonde hair cascading like molten starlight down to her lower back. Her proportions were impossibly perfect, every curve, every angle harmonized with ethereal elegance. Her cherub like face, framed by her hair, housed large turquoise eyes that shimmered with emotion. Her lips, full and cherry pink, were parted in nervous anticipation, while her swan like neck exposed the delicate flutter of her pulse.
He let out a long breath. "There’s no need for titles. Just keep your madness in check."
The flash of defiance in her eyes was instant, sharp, and gone just as quickly as she reined it in. Her cheeks flushed, the shade rising as her hands balled into fists at her sides.
Corvin smirked, enjoying the show. "Should I read your thoughts ’again’, or will you tell me your old and new orders like a good little kitten?"
Valyne inhaled deeply, her face a portrait of conflicted pride and obedience. Then, with forced calm, she recounted everything: her meeting with Archmagus Vaelorin, the journey to Goldhaven, the Synod’s directives, and the exchange with Magus Thaelys. As she spoke, Corvin slowly began to pace around her, a predator circling its prize. His movements were languid, deliberate, his presence crackling with barely restrained power.
By the time she finished, he had come full circle and stood behind her. He leaned in, his breath brushing the tip of her sensitive ear, and whispered with velvet steel, "Good."
A visible shudder ran through her body, her ears flushing pink again. Her breathing hitched.
"You’ll remain close," Corvin murmured, stepping around to face her. "Tomorrow, your space magic lessons resume. You will come alone."
She nodded meekly, lips parted, her voice caught in her throat.
"You may go," he said, stepping back toward the hearth.
She turned, her hand reaching for the doorknob when his voice echoed again, a playful undertone curling beneath the command.
"Oh... and Valyne? Don’t forget the dress code. I expect you to keep your promise. I’m persistent enough to make sure you do."
She froze mid motion. Her shoulders trembled, torn between fury and mortification, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reply. With as much dignity as she could summon, she opened the door and exited in silence.
Corvin chuckled as he reclined onto the velvet sofa, arms spreading along its backrest.
"That girl," he muttered with genuine amusement, "is a radiant headache sent straight from the gods. A blessing, in the middle of this world of fire and ash."