Fynn thought he had anticipated all possible reactions to his news of the Singenheim assassins. Disbelief, awe, grudging respect, and maybe, in his wildest musings, his master acknowledging his superior intelligence gathering skills. However, he certainly hadn't foreseen Sentor's actual response.

During the telling, Sentor’s expression had changed like the sky before a storm, he had gone from light and relaxed, to grim and deadly serious.

Leaning forward with intensity the soothsayer asked. "Are you certain there is nothing else you have missed out?"

Fynn had managed to keep the source of the news secret, as he had promised, however it didn't take much figuring and it was clear that both Sentor and Jonan knew.

"Y..Yes, I am sure, that was everything," stammered Fynn, completely unnerved by the soothsayer's demeanor.

He had believed he knew his master's moods pretty well after their time together, but just now his expression was simply frightening and Fynn was once again reminded that this was no ordinary person. Though he had seen little actual proof, at this moment he could imagine his master matching the reputation of the revered and renown wielders.

“What could it all mean Han?” Jonan asked tentatively, clearly also affected by the soothsayer’s mood.

Sentor’s voice was as grim as his expression when he responded. “Most of what people have heard about the Singenheim is merely based on rumors, hearsay, and outright fantasy. The truth, however, is far worse than anything anybody can make up. Understanding the Singenheim and their significance is only truly possible if you at least have a basic grasp of the Heavenly empire’s political structure. Once you do, you will begin to get an inkling of the gravity of Fynn’s news. “

He pulled out his pocket watch then said. “I won’t go into it now as it’s a little late. I think it would be best if we leave for Norfelk city early tomorrow. Let’s turn in for the night, there will be plenty of time for us to discuss this topic further on the journey tomorrow.”

Fynn and Jonan groaned simultaneously but, given the soothsayer's mood, made no further protests, nor did they feel inclined to remind the soothsayer about the reward.

True to his word, they were up well before sunrise. There was no time, even, for their usual exercise routine, or breakfast much to Fynn’s disgust, and he was certain the urgency had something to do with his news about the Singenheim.

A few miles out of Brownsteds village, they eventually stopped for a quick morning tea break beneath a small birch. The road had been far steeper than at any prior stage of their journey, and Fyn was keen to ensure the mare experienced no undue stress so had chosen to walk thus far. The scenery was slowly changing too, with more and more trees dotting the landscape on either side of the road

As Fynn and Jonan prepared a small fire, the soothsayer rummaged around in the back of the wagon and on his way back began to juggle whatever it was he had retrieved. This caught their attention.

Fynn quickly realised the soothsayer was throwing knives, first one flew into the air before, with deft fingers, another was flicked up, then another and another. He continued this until a total of twelve knives were neatly spinning through the air from one palm to the other as he casually walked forward. Fynn gawped, he had seen performers juggle balls and wooden pins but never seen it done with knives, nor with such nonchalance.

Suddenly, the soothsayer’s hand motions changed and, as the knives landed first on his right palm then his on his left, he flicked them, almost lazily, towards the birch. One after the other, they thudded into the bark forming a neat straight row, perfectly spaced.

Both boys gawped, first at the knives then back at the soothsayer.

He winked at them. “Double-edged steel throwing knives, good quality, and perfectly balanced. Made by Davorian weapon smiths, some of the best you will find anywhere. They are your reward for yesterday’s task. I’ve decided you both did exceptionally well, so you are going to have to decide between yourselves who gets them.”

Both boys looked at each other and grinned.

“Fifty-fifty?” Jonan suggested.

“fifty-fifty.” Fynn affirmed happily.

“Not like that,” Sentor interrupted with a sly smile. “Through sparring. For every win, you get a knife,” he finished by flashing his own evil grin.

Fynn groaned, Jonan kept grinning.

“Go on, what are you waiting for? Go grab your swords I’ll finish making the tea.”

A while later, on the road again, Jonan strolled along contentedly holding two of the Davorian throwing knives. He occasionally, gingerly, attempted to throw them up in the air as he had seen the soothsayer do, which mostly ended with him having to pick them off the ground, but he was happy and improving quickly.

Fynn could only watch enviously. They had managed just the two bouts in that break, and now that there was a clear incentive to win, Fynn witnessed Jonan finally not holding back. Although it had been a rout, he quickly realised that this was how he liked it. He smiled to himself. There were still ten knives to be won and he was determined to get a few of them.

His mind turned to the topic of the Singenheim. All morning he had been chomping at the bit to find out more. He could hold it in no longer. “Master, please could you tell us more about the Singenheim?”

The soothsayer considered this a moment then turned to look at Jonan. “I suppose I could, but before I say anything further, there is something we must address. Jonan, there are certain things in this world that, when learned, are better kept to oneself, and certainly for most people the less known, the better. Fynn, as my apprentice, is under my protection and strict instruction. You however have no obligation to do as I say, but you learned something yesterday that will almost certainly lead to your death should you repeat it carelessly. Do you understand what I am trying to say?”

Jonan gulped and nodded. “Yes Han, I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

Still addressing him, Sentor continued. “Good. Also, as part of my apprentice’s training, I need to educate him, to the best of my ability, about current affairs, politics, and the ways of the known world. This may also touch on sensitive and little known topics that are also best not repeated casually.”

Upon hearing those words Fynn felt a thrill of excitement, tinged with a healthy dose of fear.

“You seem like a level-headed, intelligent young man so I would welcome you to listen in on these lessons, however in the same breath, urge you to be careful who you repeat the information too. “

“Yes Han.” Jonan affirmed, bowing his head gratefully.

Now that was out of the way, the soothsayer took them both in before saying.

“In order to understand how and why the Singenheim operate, you first need to have an overview of the heavenly empire’s political landscape and a general insight into its inner workings. To begin with, do you know how the empire retains control of its lands, people, and kingdoms?”

It was clearly a rhetorical question but both boys shook their head blandly.

“Broadly speaking and in simple terms, some empires, such as the Karthian Empire, use sheer overwhelming force and cruelty, which cultivates a culture of fear and self-preservation. Using a mixed system of slavery, indentured servitude, and mandatory military service they enforce a hierarchical society where everybody is far too preoccupied with improving their lot in life to think about their kingdom’s freedom. Others, such as the Holy Gh’aat Empire, exploit their common culture and more importantly religious beliefs to fuel a sense of togetherness and single-minded purpose, they indoctrinate and absorb any conquered lands through aggressive religious integration. “

Fynn’s knowledge of the other empires was limited but the ruthless reputation of the Karthian’s had reached even him. He moved closer to his master enraptured.

“In our Heavenly empire’s case, however, the emperor adopted a policy that controls both through sheer power and might but also, ironically, by giving a semblance of free will, providing each kingdom and their nobles privileged platforms to have a say in the direction and purpose of the empire. Indeed, this approach has been so successful it resulted in the mighty kingdom of Farath and in turn its close ally Haumeth eventually joining the empire of their own volition, though admittedly not before a brief, difficult and very bloody war. Doing so was also certainly a far more appealing option than risking falling to the Karthians who probably wouldn’t have been satisfied until both the Farath and Haumeth king’s heads were delivered to their emperor on the end of one of their famous Sath spears and their populaces were completely and thoroughly cowed. Or perhaps worse, falling to the Gh’aat who no doubt would have been keen to ensure that the almost equally fanatically religious Farath realise the error of their ways and acknowledged the Gh’aat gods as the only true gods.”

He said the last with a wry chuckle as if speaking from a position of first-hand experience. The more he talked, the more he fell into his familiar storytelling mannerisms that Fynn now knew so well.

“So how does it work? Well, within the Heavenly Empire’s political structure, there exists an ingenious system which ensures that each kingdom’s individual ambitions are kept in check both by pitting them against each other in a controlled environment and by also enabling them to, unwittingly, weaken themselves from within.”

“How could the kingdoms weaken themselves and how does that help the empire?” Fynn asked with a frown.

“Good question,” the soothsayer responded nodding approvingly. “While the kingdoms are strictly forbidden to go to war with each other, the empire generally has no problem with internal strife, just as long as it stays within each individual kingdom’s borders. It sees this as a natural and essential process of every kingdom’s evolution. Therefore, it is quite common for there to be ferocious and bloody civil wars between factions and nobles from the same kingdom, usually over succession or border disputes, with some even leading to coups and the overthrow of kings. Too busy fighting internally, they are also less inclined to have the will and motivation to defy the empire. At the same time, it really doesn’t affect the strength and integrity of the empire’s overall structure.”

Fynn exclaimed in wonder at this. Both he and, by the looks of it, Jonan were mesmerised by all they heard. It was clear that they knew far less about the world about them than they could have possibly imagined.

“If things threaten to spill out of control, it is usually relatively simple to resolve and the white banner’s presence in each kingdom are for just such occasions, they are the empires stamp of authority and can subtly support one side or the other to obtain an outcome it finds favourable.”

He cleared his throat and looked meaningfully at the two boys. “Now I want to explain how the political interactions between the kingdoms are played out and how this ultimately, again, also feeds right into the emperor’s hands. You have probably deduced that many kingdoms have, before they were part of the empire, had century-long histories of bad blood, feuds, and wars amongst themselves and this simply doesn’t wash away now that they are part of the same empire. Instead, they explore new ways within the existing system to continue their rivalries. Luckily for them, this is where the emperor steps in to help.”

The boys laughed at that.

“To settle their differences, he has provided for them, two of the most toxic, dangerous and horrifying political theatres you could possibly imagine. These being the platforms I mentioned earlier which let them have a say in the running of the empire. Those in the know, though, would say he has provided them ropes with which to hang themselves. The first of these is the Heavenly Council of Kingdoms, more commonly known as the outer council, and the second more powerful one is the Imperial Council of the Heavenly empire also known as the inner council. Have you heard of either of these?”

Fynn hadn’t but Jonan nodded.

“I only heard from my father that Lord Tabor of Norfelk’s younger brother is involved in the outer council. But I don’t really know how or what he does there.” Jonan admitted.

The soothsayer nodded. “Okay good, that’s a start. In that case, let’s begin with the outer council. Each kingdom’s major noble houses that meet exceedingly strict criteria are allowed to have one representative in the outer council. There are currently three hundred and fifty-seven major noble houses in the entire empire that meet these requirements. Just thirteen of whom are from the Arean kingdom, with one, as you just mentioned, being House Tabor of Norfelk,” he looked at Jonan. “Lord Alerot Tabor’s younger brother, councillor Fillip Tabor, is his house’s representative in the outer council. It is a position of immense power and responsibility, but also one of the most dangerous. They administer the general affairs of the empire, debate and vote on all manner of things, from trade deals, routes, allocation of resources, pass laws that affect the kingdom's policies, the list goes on and generally, they bicker about pretty much everything.”

Again Jonan and Fynn laughed. Fynn could hardly believe how interested he was in all he was hearing.

“But far more dark and underhanded dealings take place behind the scenes in the outer council than anybody could possibly imagine. It is located in the Imperial capital Kastoth.”

“Kastoth.” Jonan involuntarily interjected breathlessly.

Fynn could empathise. The stories he’d heard about the Imperial capital lent it an almost mystical aura. It was said to be so large that it could take two full days of walking to reach one end from the other. Of this city, he knew probably more than he did about his own kingdom’s capital, Renfort. Kastoth was located downstream of the great ganzu river which also happened to be the official border between the heavenly empire's oldest two kingdoms, Synthz and Wysensia. At some point, the great ganzu river, which was supposedly so wide one could barely see the opposite bank from the other, forked, and the two flows, known respectively as west and east ganzu river, still mighty in their own right, went on to spill into the Davor strait. The land between the two, essentially an island, was, perhaps rather practically, called Ganzu Island. A once bitterly disputed territory and fought over for centuries by Synthz and Wystensia, it eventually became the chosen location for the imperial capital, Kastoth city. Now, it was seen as a symbol of unity, the pride of the empire, and a visible display of its power and magnificence.

The soothsayer was still talking so Fynn focused.

“Let’s talk about the inner council now. This is arguably where the true powers of the empire are found. It is an advisory body to the emperor himself and comprises of just five representatives from each kingdom, known as supreme councillors. These are perhaps some of the most influential positions in the empire, the representatives of whom are personally selected by each kingdom’s ruler, which in Arean’s case would of course be king Peres. How each ruler decides their representatives is up to them, however they typically select one from their own House or faction, three from their most loyal or powerful noble families, usually as a way of ensuring fealty and support, and lastly a military strategist or general. Within the inner council, topics of great importance to the empire are brought up, debated, and voted on before being submitted to the emperor for the final stamp of approval. These topics range from the empire's foreign policy, defense and expansion strategies, and many other such critical issues. Because the inner council must report directly to the emperor, it is located and operates within the emperor’s own ascension palace, at the foot of Mount Kai on the south shore of blue casteth lake, the primary source of the great ganzu river. The supreme councillor position is such a lofty rank, that those who know would easily place them, ironically, above the ones who put them there in the first place, their own kingdom’s ruler.”

“So you might now be wondering, how exactly these two political bodies, which on the face of it seem to be giving the kingdoms a great deal of influence and say in the running of the empire, ultimately end up enabling the emperor to better retain control? Well, that’s actually easy when you think about it. In the outer council, for example, in order for a law to be passed, a treaty, trade deal or mining rights to be ratified, basically for absolutely anything to successfully go through, it needs to have the majority on board when it comes down to the vote. So what, inevitably, ends up happening is that factions form, alliances for mutual gain if you will, and you only need to know your history to give you a relatively accurate indication of which kingdom’s councilors would choose to ally with whom. Let me give you an example.”

He paused in thought, then said. “Perhaps it's best to use kingdom’s you might be more familiar with, so let’s take your kingdom of Arean and the kingdom of Solten to the east, they have had a long and bloody history, of which I am sure you have some knowledge?” he raised his brows questioningly at the boys.

They both nodded.

“Now although part of the same empire, the animosity, and rivalry between them are as strong as ever, so it is a given that they would choose to ally themselves to opposing kingdoms. Do either of you know or can guess who they might be?”

Fynn shook his head but Jonan thought hard before suggesting. “Synthz and Wystensia?”

“Good, well done Jonan. Synthz and Wystensia, the two founding kingdoms of the empire, who along with Farath are ranked as the most powerful kingdoms of the heavenly empire. These two nations have in fact had a far longer bloody history of rivalry than Arean and Solten. Today Arean is considered to be politically allied to Synthz, and Solten with Wystensia and they pretty much have been since they joined the empire.”

Jonan flashed a rare grin, clearly pleased with his guess, then cursed as he nearly sliced his palm open trying to juggle one of his knives.

Sentor continued. “These political alliances and divisions have an enormous impact. Whenever there is a vote of critical importance to Synthz, you can be reasonably sure that most Arean councillors will back it and Solten’s won’t. Needless to say, there will always be exceptions, but this generally tends to be the case. The battle for votes, as you can imagine, is fierce and on many occasions spills out onto the streets of Kastoth where the politically astute public hangs on every word going on within the halls of power. The stakes are high and you can be sure that there are absolutely no limits to what the kingdoms, the councillors, and other stakeholders will do to ensure they get the votes they need. Bribery, blackmail, threats, extortion, assassinations, you name it, all is fair game so long as they get the required results.”

“What about the inner council?” Fynn asked curiously.

“The inner council, at first glance, appears to be more dignified, given that they are right under the nose of the emperor, but it is, in actual fact, far, far worse. Because each kingdom has just five representatives in the council, regardless of their respective power rankings, this gives them an equal say in any vote or debate. The most politically powerful people in the empire are these supreme councillors and the scramble to control them and therefore any vote in the inner council is staggering. The stakes are of a very different nature and obviously much higher. As such the methods used are subtler, cleverer, and far more deadly, usually leaving behind far-reaching consequences that can shake the foundations of entire kingdoms. Ultimately, the two councils divide more than they unite, while simultaneously creating a strange co-dependency that seemingly can’t be broken, thus holding the empire firmly together in the emperor’s hands.”

The soothsayer took a moment to take a sip of water from his waterskin, then looked meaningfully at the boys.

“Now that you have a general understanding of the empire’s political system, albeit perhaps an overly simplified one, we can begin to talk about what you really want to know.

“The Singenheim.” Jonan and Fynn said simultaneously.

Fynn found it all quite hard to grasp, but he thought he got the general gist of where the soothsayer was heading with all this and he now had an inkling. Perhaps, now that they couldn’t go to war with each other, the councillors and kingdoms used the Singenheim to assassinate their political opponents. He suggested as much to his master.

“I thought you might think that, and you are not too far off,” Sentor responded with a wry smile. “But when it comes to the Singenhiem, things aren’t ever quite that straightforward. The first thing you need to understand is that there are hundreds of other assassin groups in the empire, in fact, each kingdom is known to have their own assassin guild which tries to regulate them. Some of the groups and clans go under different guises, posing as reputable organisations, merchant groups, and the like, but the bottom line is their trade is in assassinations. At least half a dozen of these clans from across the empire are classed as blue reapers, the highest level an assassin group can obtain from the guilds. Do you know what this means?”

Both boys shook their heads.

“It means that these assassin clans have at least one member, typically the leader, at wielder level. A good example of one such clan is the silent ravens based in the whallis kingdom whose infamous, mute, leader Darg is classed as a wielder. I am sure you have heard of him?”

Jonan nodded an awestruck look on his face. Fynn was a little more composed knowing what he already did but the significance of this didn’t pass him by.

“Blue reaper assassin clans are immensely powerful and are capable of targeting powerful noble families therefore commanding the highest fees due to the difficulty level of the missions they undertake. Generally speaking, these assassin groups are the ones most likely to be used by the kingdoms leaders, the wealthiest noble families, and of course, by extension, this includes the councillors and their backers. When the stakes are high enough, which they often are in politics, sometimes, it seems, the most effective method is to eliminate the obstacle. To get their way, to secure vital trade routes and rights, to obtain mining licenses and many other such things, the councils, the kingdoms, and their nobles swim in a sea of blood.”

There was silence as the boys took in what they were hearing.

“So the Singenheim are a blue reaper level assassin group?” Fynn asked tentatively, a little confused.

Sentor didn’t answer straight away. He had a distant look, troubled once again. Finally, with voice heavy, he said. “No, there isn’t even a class to define the Singenheim assassins. They play in a league of their own. I don’t know if anyone truly knows the depths of their power, but it is believed that every single one of their official assassins is wielder class and there are known to be at least five,” he raised a hand, cutting out the inevitable interjections before continuing. “As if that isn’t enough, there are credible rumours that say their leader is the only man to have crossed blades with the emperor himself and lived to talk about it, not just that, it is said he had the better of the encounter.”

“What?” Jonan burst in incredulously. “That’s…. that’s impossible, the emperor is the most powerful warrior in history. How….” He trailed off defeated.

“Like I said it’s a rumour, admittedly credible and one I believe is most likely true, but I suppose only the emperor himself knows whether there is any truth to it. What is without any doubt though, is that the Singenheim are a force to be reckoned with. The level of petty bickering between individual kingdoms and their squabbles in the outer council doesn’t interest them, not in the slightest. No, they are in the business of shaking empires. They involve themselves only in the highest level of politics, the highest stakes for the highest prizes.”

“What… what do you mean?” Fynn breathed.

Jonan looked afraid to say anything, lest the soothsayer decided to stop talking.

“The most powerful kingdoms in the empire, Synthz, Wystensia and now certainly Farath, go round and round in circles trying to outdo each other in the race for the most influence and power within the empire. Though they have most certainly realised it, they also seem to be unable to stop, in case they find themselves outmaneuvered and seriously disadvantaged. However, even the emperor's exceptional plan to keep them preoccupied within the two councils can only go so far. The issue of his succession is becoming increasingly urgent and as such is foremost on these kingdom’s agenda, it focuses their attention and drives them relentlessly on in the mad quest for power. The ultimate prize. The leaders and the most powerful families within these three kingdoms are the only ones I can think of who could possibly dare much less afford the services of the Singenheim and shoulder the risks that come with it. To involve them could only be a result of an exceptionally serious threat to one of these kingdoms ultimate ambitions.”

He let that hang in the air.

Fynn was struggling to process it all. It felt like everything he had known or thought he knew, about his kingdom and the empire, in general, was a complete lie. Just weeks earlier he had believed that king Peres and the noble families of Arean, with their armies, hundreds of thousands strong, were the very definition of splendor and power, having great influence in the running of the Empire. He had looked up to them and could only dream of such power. However, this illusion was thoroughly shattered now, ever since he had met the soothsayer really. He was beginning to realise that every single noble house in the Arean kingdom, including the king’s, was merely a pawn in a far greater game.

He could now also see that this was the point the soothsayer had been trying to get them to understand. That the very fact the Singenheim, whom the most powerful of all of Arean could never dream of using, were here in Norfelk was an indication of something huge, beyond anything they could comprehend and was something which the soothsayer believed could possibly influence the very future of the entire empire. For some reason, this scared him. But why, he asked himself, of all places in the heavenly empire, would they be here? He followed that thought by asking it of the soothsayer.

“That is precisely the question. Your guess is as good as mine. No doubt, if there is something to be found out though, it will be in Norfelk City.” Was the short response.

Clearly, the storytelling was over.

The two boys fell silent, each clearly content to mull over everything they'd learned. Jonan looked as worried as Fynn felt and a small nagging itch he couldn’t put his finger on began to build within the younger boy’s mind.

Fortunately for him, his young inquisitive mind was soon able to turn to other things. The road continued to get steeper, the air cooler and the scenery more interesting as they travelled through the day. The increasing variety and size of trees they saw were what fascinated him the most, and every time he saw an interesting one he couldn’t help but point it out. The soothsayer shared his enthusiasm and had seemingly inexhaustible knowledge of each variety.

Jonan however, who clearly hadn’t been able to shrug off the earlier conversation quite so easily, after yet another one of Fynn’s enthusiastic proclamations about a tree, sighed in frustration and quipped. “If you love it so much, why don’t you go hug it?” Then, not so subtly, increased his pace to get out of earshot of Fynn and the soothsayer.

It was already dusk when, with weary limbs, they finally crested a particularly steep section and were brought to a sudden standstill at the sight that met them. A few miles below them, tucked cozily at the foot of the Felk ranges which loomed beyond in the distance, lay Felk lake, the pride and joy of Norfelk. Fynn gasped and even Jonan seemed mildly impressed.

“It’s incredible.” Fynn breathed.

What little remained of the dying evening light was reflecting serenely off the gentle ripples of the lake’s water. The view was finished, somewhat majestically, by the sight of Norfelk city, which stood on the west shore. From their current vantage point, it looked like something out of a fairy story, the flickering lights emanating from the city’s buildings also danced off the lake's surface.

Fynn believed he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. He simply wanted to stand there for as long as possible taking it all in.

“Come along Fynn,” his master called out, already moving again. “It’s all downhill from here, we should make it to the city in an hour. Tonight we will sleep in proper beds.”

This got Fynn moving.