The Returned Prince

The interrogation chamber beneath the palace was a grim and shadowed place, designed to break even the most steadfast of minds. Its stone walls absorbed the screams of traitors, dissenters, and spies, leaving only silence to accompany the dim glow of lanterns.

Marlowe Haldrin sat bound to a sturdy chair, his expression one of restrained defiance. His dark eyes followed my every move as I entered, Elara and Kieran flanking me.

"Comfortable?" I asked, letting my voice drip with mock politeness as I approached.

"I've had worse," he said, smirking. "You'll find I'm not so easily intimidated, Prince."

Kieran leaned casually against the wall, his dagger spinning lazily in his hand. "Good. I like it when they don't break right away. Makes the game more fun."

Elara shot him a look but said nothing. She carried a small ledger filled with names and reports, evidence we had gathered during our search of the warehouse. It was the first tool in what I knew would be a long and careful session.

"Marlowe," I began, pulling up a chair to sit directly in front of him. "You're a smart man, so I won't waste your time. You're part of a conspiracy to destabilize the empire. We have the stolen supplies, the mercenaries, and your own admission of loyalty to this so-called 'new order.' The only question is whether you want to cooperate—or face a far less pleasant fate."

He sneered. "Spare me the righteous speech. You think this empire is worth saving? It's rotted to its core. Erynthe sees it. Others see it. You're just clinging to a dying legacy."

"Elara," I said, ignoring his defiance. "What do we know about his ties to Erynthe?"

She stepped forward, flipping through the ledger. "Marlowe Haldrin's disappearance coincides with several large financial transactions from Erynthe's estate. These funds were funneled through Jethro Dain's trading company, which we believe was a front for hiring mercenaries. Additionally, Haldrin was seen in the eastern provinces just weeks before the supply caravans were ambushed."

Kieran smirked. "That's enough evidence to hang you twice over, Marlowe. But Aurelian here is feeling generous today."

I leaned forward, letting the edge of my blade rest lightly against his arm. "Here's how this works, Haldrin. You tell me everything you know about Erynthe's plans—names, locations, strategies—and I'll ensure you get a fair trial. Refuse, and you'll leave this room in pieces. Your call."

His smirk faltered, but only for a moment. "You don't scare me, Prince. Do your worst."

It took hours, but the cracks began to show. With each passing moment, Marlowe's bravado chipped away under the weight of evidence, pressure, and Kieran's unnervingly cheerful threats. By the time the lantern's oil began to wane, he was slumped in his chair, sweat beading on his brow.

"Erynthe isn't the mastermind," he finally said, his voice hoarse.

I tensed. "Explain."

"He's ambitious, yes, but he's not smart enough to orchestrate something like this alone. There's someone above him—someone pulling the strings. I've never met them, but Erynthe speaks of them like they're a god. They're the ones funding this rebellion."

I exchanged a glance with Elara. A shadowy figure behind Erynthe's schemes? It was a complication I hadn't anticipated.

"Names," I demanded. "If not Erynthe, then who?"

Marlowe hesitated, his eyes darting between me and Kieran. "I don't know their name, but there's a symbol. A serpent coiled around a sword. It's their mark, and it's been appearing all over the eastern provinces—on letters, flags, even tattoos. That's all I know."

The Serpent. The image conjured memories from my past life, fragments of warnings and whispers I had dismissed as paranoia. If this symbol was tied to Erynthe's backers, then this conspiracy reached far beyond the empire's borders.

"Where can we find Erynthe?" I asked, my voice steady despite the unease growing within me.

Marlowe let out a bitter laugh. "You think he's just sitting around waiting for you? By now, he'll have fortified his estate. He knows you're coming, and he won't go down without a fight."

When we left the chamber, Kieran let out a low whistle. "A coiled serpent pulling the strings? Sounds dramatic. I love it."

I ignored his sarcasm, turning to Elara. "Contact Duke Raventhal. We need to plan an assault on Erynthe's estate. If he's dug in, we'll need more than just our small force to bring him down."

She nodded, already making mental notes. "And the symbol? Should I investigate it further?"

"Yes," I said firmly. "Focus on trade routes and mercenary networks. If this serpent has agents, they're moving supplies and people through the empire. Find them."

Elara's lips pressed into a thin line. "Understood."

As she left, Kieran fell into step beside me. "You think this serpent is real, or just some story Erynthe cooked up to scare his enemies?"

"It's real," I said without hesitation. "I've seen the symbol before, though I didn't understand its significance then. If it's resurfacing now, it means something—something dangerous."

He grinned. "Good. I was starting to get bored with petty lords and mercenaries. This sounds much more interesting."

I didn't share his enthusiasm. The serpent represented more than just another obstacle; it was a harbinger of the chaos I had been reborn to prevent.

The pieces were falling into place, but the picture they painted was far more troubling than I had anticipated. As the night deepened, I resolved to face the storm ahead with unyielding determination.

Erynthe's time was running out. And whoever stood behind him would soon know that Prince Aurelian was not a pawn to be played.