Regent Revom was a man who had dedicated his life to the cause of the Order of the White Flame.

Anyone who knew his background would agree that he was a person who knew the Order well, and his name was respected in all circles of it.

In his years of experience, he saw hundreds of his friends transcend and rise with the Council of Five, where Tisvar welcomed them with open arms. He also hunted down and killed several dozen demons that populated Aeton. They tortured its inhabitants and brought unchained evil where they went.

He and many more were there saving humanity against Demons, Abominations, Aberrations, and Marked Ones. Revom fought all of those threats once, and he knew all too well, especially days ago in the city of Eastfront.

The old Regent was making his walk along what looked like the cliffs of Cherlets on the northernmost coast of the Kingdom of Kiszenia.

The Regent was sure that that cliff was from that place, or at least it was similar, for he had grown up not far from that place, in a settlement on the banks of the Dryd River, which flowed between the cliffs into the sea. But, of course, it was all speculation and assumptions on his part. It had been decades since he had last seen that place. Everything he saw around him was nothing more than an illusion, a product of the demesne of a wizard who summoned him.

The old man soon reached his destination, and to his surprise, he was not the only one summoned.

At the edge of the highest cliff, a table made of the same pristine white cliff limestone stood along with several stone seats from which the guests sat.

Eight chairs surrounded the table, three on each side and one at each head. In place, seven men awaited their arrival, all adorned with the symbols and garb of the Order.

The Order of the White Flame was created eight hundred years ago. Its first objective had been to defend the Empire of Mordia, but over the years, its crusade extended to safeguarding humanity.

To the left of the table, wearing their black plate armor with gold details, were members of the Order of the Fist of Tivris, the Order's armed wing. They, figures of high rank, looked at each other curious to be there. The Black Flame, as they were sometimes called, did not like to be taken by surprise.

"Will someone tell us what the hell we're doing here?" one of them asked, slamming his fist on the table. The impact of his gauntlet against the stone table was heard by everyone.

The man wore a cloak over his right shoulder in red, with a golden brooch with the symbol of the Fist of Tivris, god of Justice. The impulsive man was a Master Inquisitor of the Order.

"I beg your patience, Master Gardar." said one of the men in front of him, on the right side of the table.

The men who wore delicate but unprotected garments belonged to the Order of the Eye of Cyonar, the Order's intelligence group. The Blue Eye, as they were called in honor of the symbol, they wore on their gloves and clothing brooch, symbolized the all-seeing eye of Cyonar, the father of Vision and Magic.

At first, Revom hadn't noticed a woman at the table. The woman was dressing in a masculine manner. However, she still retained her femininity despite wearing pants and a ruffled shirt.

The girl added, "It is true, Master Gardar, be patient. Soon, you will be able to return to your business with the Gyoros People of Adwar."

"What do you mean by that?" said Gardar with gritted teeth. He watched her with his gray eyes that seemed to stab her as if they were a forged sword.

The woman, with long brown hair, returned her look with indifference.

Disinterestedly, she replied, "I'm just telling you what our sources have mentioned to us about you, 'the assassin of the steppes.'"

"Look, you whore of the-"

"Master Gardar," exclaimed the man seated at the head concerned. "That's no way to address a member of the order, least of all, a lady."

"A lady," Gardar added with contempt and almost whispered, "dressing as she does, she might just be effeminate..."

"Regent Revom Gran," exclaimed the one at the head of the table.

The Regent walked with his worn grayish wooden cane to the table.

"Cardinal Candac," Revom greeted his superior with a slight bow.

Cardinal Candac, and Regent Revom, belonged to the original branch and the one they commonly all went by, the Order of the White Flame, also known as the Circle of Tisvar.

They were part of the founding branch and were recognized by their white robes and the flaming eye on their tabards. Frugality was something that characterized them, a trait that allowed people to accept them.

While Revom was a Regent, one man and spiritual leader of the Order who was in charge of a handful of apprentices and priests, Cardinal Candac controlled all those groups of an entire kingdom. Sometimes, The Cardinals had under their power several Kingdoms at once.

"Well, why are we here?" asked Gardar once again. That man with square face, black hair, and white sideburns was known for his lack of patience off and on the battlefield.

Suddenly, a voice echoed throughout that dimension; the owner of the demesne was making his presence known to them.

"I called all of you," said the rumble of a voice. The dark clouds in the distance off that coast burst into lightning.

Revom watched those stormy clouds in the distance until he sensed a presence at his side. The old man with the graying beard and tanned complexion turned his look to see that Martyr of Tisvar, a Marked One in the service of the gods again.

"Martyr Axlind," the Cardinal greeted the host, "You honor us with your presence."

The Martyr was just as Revom had seen him days before; there was no visible feature from head to toe. He was covered entirely in black leather armor with a hooded cloak and a mask covering his face. The crystals where his eyes should be were dark so that no one would know if he was watching them.

"I'm so sorry to take your time or rest, gentlemen. You too," apologized the man, resting his hand on the back of Revom's chair. "I apologize to you as well, Lady Myra."

"You don't need to apologize, my lord," the woman soon replied with a soft smile.

Then, the Martyr turned to Revom, "Regent Revom, as far as I know, you have not yet departed for the Hilree border. Is that true?"

"It is," the old man confirmed, unhesitating and aware of having disobeyed an order.

At the other end of the table, Candac frowned upon hearing this, "I thought I had made myself clear, Revom..."

"There was business to attend to at Eastfront, Cardinal," Revom explained.

Martyr Axlind turned away from Revom and walked around the left side of the table.

"Please, Regent," sighed the Cardinal in annoyance, "If this is about the prison matter-"

"It is about a concern with abominations," vehemently interrupted Revom to his boss.

The table fell silent at the Regent's attitude in stealing the word from his superior.

"Continue, please," Martyr Axlind requested politely, gesturing with his gloved hand for him to proceed.

Revom looked at the Martyr and then at his superior, "Two or three nights ago, abominations struck part of the city of Eastfront and its environs."

"Really?" the Martyr asked, intrigued.

The rest of the table remained silent.

"That's right," confirmed Revom. "My men had to fight dream wraiths. They fought at least seven of them all night and the next day and went out looking for them on the farms near the cities. Finally, they caught him in time, the last of them, just when it was going to eat an entire family."

"They are heroes!" exclaimed one of the members of the Rivris Fist proudly, a young man with hair pulled back in a ponytail and a sharp face.

"They were heroes," Revom added. "Three of them died, unable to figure out how to fight the creature. Only one of them, a boy from Baeria, knew how to confront it; the boy took it to the barn and set it burning, for fire is a great weakness of those monsters."

"I am sorry to hear that, Regent," said the Martyr, ending where Cardinal Candac was sitting.

"Those creatures are not native to this part of the continent; someone brought them here."

"That's true," added Myra, a member of the Order of the Blue Eye.

"Do you know who it was?" asked Revom.

"Yes," confirmed the girl, who soon turned to the Cardinal. "The creatures were moved from a Baeria village by Order of Cardinal Candac, as one of his advisors suggested.

Revom, dumbfounded, turned his gaze to Candac. "What, is that true?"

Candac turned his eye to the girl, frowning at that traitorous act. Still, he was handling himself with impunity.

The Martyr asked, "Lady Myra, did the wraiths accomplish their task?"

"No. But they were close,"

"'Close'?" asked Axlind. "Close is not fulfilling their task."

"Apparently, the Cardinal's wizard advisors underestimated the target," Myra explained, "The three targets: Ronan of Vilna and two marked children."

"It's just collateral, sir..." explained one of the Blue Eye members, close to Candac.

Revom burst out, "Collateral!?"

Candac tried to calm his inferior, "Regent Gran, please-"

"In one week, I lost over a dozen men!" Revom exclaimed furiously, slamming his hand on the stone table. "Honorable men who fought for our cause and died fulfilling our edicts!"

"And they will be revered as heroes," Candac added.

"They were young men who died for a necessity coming from you!" remarked Revom to his superior, "Shame on you!"

The Cardinal rose from his seat; that graying man would not stand for someone beneath him talking to him like that.

"I will not tolerate that-!"

Martyr Axlind grabbed the Cardinal by his shoulder, and the man abruptly fell silent.

"We are very sorry for the loss of those men. Are we not, Cardinal Candac?"

A heavy pressure grew in the Cardinal's chest, who felt how the Martyr's black-gloved covered hand was as heavy as a mountain and burned like a red-hot ember. The man winced and slowly sat back down.

"Yes, I am sorry, Regent Revom," exclaimed the Cardinal. "It was a mistake, and I take the blame for my advisors..."

Revom, an elder and veteran of the Order, was not to be outdone.

"Apologies do not bring men back from the grave, nor do they restore to the innocent what they lost..."

"If I may," Myra raised her hand. "We could assign a portion of the Order's wealth in Mizuna to restore the lost buildings and support the victims."

"A noble gesture to support the families," the Martyr indicated.

Candac, however, opposed it with only a glance.

"An empty and manipulative gesture," exclaimed Garnar in front of the small-complexioned girl.

"But effective, Master Garnar," Axlind added. "It shall be done as mentioned. What do you think, Cardinal?"

The man was silent for a few moments, but in the end, he agreed.

"For the sake of those families..."

Axlind patted the man's back and leaned close to his ear, "The council members will know of your noble gesture."

"What will happen to the marked ones?" asked Revom. "They're still out there."

"That's right..." exclaimed Axlind; then, he asked the table members, "Any suggestions?"

Another of the Blue Eye members raised his hand, a man in his forties with a weathered face and an eyepatch that hid the absence of one eye.

"If I may," he began in a hoarse, worn voice, "I think, for this one time, we could fight fire with fire."

Everyone remained silent.

"From what we count, at least four Marked Ones of Efren are in Mizuna. If we go to them with a good price..."

"You're disgusting for devising that," the last of the Rivris Fist members sneered.

the Blue Eye member looked at that Rivris Fist Master and then at Cardinal Candac, "It's better than losing more men or trying out weird ideas that a drunken advisor suggested,"

"The four of you must eliminate Ronan of Vilna and the children. The mere existence of the children is a danger."

"I think it is obvious that it is, Martyr," Revom added. "But it sounds like there's something else behind them..."

Axlind saw Revom and soon walked toward him at a silent pace.

"Ronan of Vilna has a huge interest in them," Axlind indicated. "He is the head of a group of archaeologists who are after all mysteries of the Marked Ones. I have suspicions that these children have something he wants: an answer to a big question."

"So, we'll kill those kids, and him too?" asked Revom.

"Indeed," Axlind confirmed, "Do you have any objection to that?"

Revom remained silent, tasting his answer, though finally, he just sighed and said, "No, none."

"Well, in that case, you, Cardinal Candac, and a couple others are free to go," Axlindo stood, sweeping his gaze over the people in the place. "You may go. You are free..."

Almost as if in the blink of an eye, Revom had traveled thousands of miles, the Regent's mind returned to his body, leaving the inheritance of that marked one.

"Regent Gran," one of the young priests guarding the Regent in his room exclaimed in alarm. "Are you all right?"

The duo of priests saw how the Regent had knelt on the floor and, after closing his eyes, shuddered violently. All that had happened in a couple of seconds.

Revom gasped in exhaustion and looked at his wards, grabbing the arm of the one who was closest to him to pull himself up.

"Yes, I'm fine," the man confirmed as if that didn't ease the boys' worries.