Interlude: Marcus

The last couple of weeks had been stressful for Marcus. After the first messenger arrived, four more followed quickly after.

One from Boltron claimed this boy—just an orphan, had provoked the Tempest Dragon, causing it to destroy its own temple, and precipitate a landslide that inflicted immense damage on the city, and that Felix Boltron was seeking to have the boy held to justice.

What utter nonsense.

Marcus had hoped to start from neutral, but every message pushed that hope further away. The one he held in his shaking hands right now sealed the deal.

Not only did this boy—barely a year younger than his own son, already keep the company of a shadow cat said to have fought a dragon and won, he also had been seen by hundreds in the company of an unknown dragon that had apparently come from the heart of the Dark Forest.

But now… now the boy had a visit from the phoenix.

This report came from his most trusted guard. Marcus knew Liam wouldn’t add exaggeration, yet by his note, the boy not only stood in the same room as the phoenix, he was completely unaffected by its aura as she tested him—even when Liam himself was brought to his knees.

How was that possible?

Marcus read on, and the unbelievable news didn’t end there. Lord Emanuel Falcone had attempted to enslave Trevor using a debt, something that particular lord had reportedly utilised on nearly half his staff.

All of Marcus’s plans to provide the boy with gifts were shattered. He wasn’t starting from a neutral position at all—he was starting with someone jaded from the beginning.

Marcus continued, and the note only grew worse. It said that the boy had made a donation to the Temple of Fate. That in itself was not uncommon. The gods were real, but they didn’t interfere in mortal affairs. It was beneath them.

Or it should have been.

The donation had been taken—and answered. Not only for Trevor, but for his fire elemental companion too. Liam and the temple now believed he had been personally blessed by the goddess, although the temple couldn’t say what that meant. There were no known records of its happening before.

Marcus set the note down. This was the fourth time he’d read it, and every time it hit him like the first.

What could he do to navigate this situation?

He couldn’t have someone in the kingdom far better aligned to the phoenix than he was and be at odds with them. The boy would have a stronger claim to the throne than even he did.

And there was no chance of having this boy removed. With all his companions, and the reports from Grey Rock where he fell ill, any attempt on his life would be catastrophic for the kingdom—if they survived it at all.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” Marcus called.

Gerald entered, holding a scroll, a frown on his face.

“Your Majesty, I have a message here. However, I think it’s important to tell you this arrived far later than it should have.” Gerald handed over the letter.

Marcus took it and began to unroll it. His hands shook as anger crashed over him.

The letter described how Victor had run into the group on the road and been informed of a very serious crime. The report was a detailed account of his findings, including years of murder, torture, starvation, and abuse at the hands of the generals.

“And the boy was involved in this?” Marcus asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty. The two guards for the merchant are from the latest recruits and survivors, with one of their number being a casualty,” Gerald responded coldly.

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“And what of Oliver’s reports?” Marcus asked, glaring.

“They have been weekly, and have mentioned no issues—commenting that we have been making progress,” Gerald said.

“Investigate him immediately, but quietly. If he finds out and tries to flee, kill him, along with anyone else who is with him. We must discover everyone involved.”

“As you say, Your Majesty.” Gerald bowed. “What of the boy? He is on his way here now.”

Marcus let out a deep sigh. “We need to be more forward. I will meet him outside the city.”

The shock on Gerald’s face said it all.

“Your Majesty, that is not safe.” Gerald tried to protest. “You’re the king. He will surely come to you. He owes it to you—you paid for the orphanage!”

“Gerald, you’re no fool. You’ve read those reports. Claiming I had anything to do with that shithole orphanage and how poorly it was run will only ensure he despises me,” Marcus snapped.

“But tradition, Your Majesty—” Gerald began.

“No, Gerald. This must be done. If you’re concerned, pull some guards for protection, but we need to make a good impression on this boy. That’s not optional. And I suspect that being honest might be the best move.” Marcus ran his fingers through his hair.

“While we’re at it, I want an investigation into all my overseers. It seems corruption is rife, and I have been far too lenient for far too long. It’s time we cleaned this mess up.”