The night sky by the river was dark, lit only by a sliver of moonlight filtering through the clouds.
Kairos stood near the now-empty old house, gazing at the faintly shimmering water in the distance. The wind carried the scent of damp earth and dry leaves, yet within him, something wilder stirred, waiting to be unleashed.
He knew his first step was taken. His allies were now bound by thin threads of hope and vengeance, but to keep them loyal, he had to play a greater role.
Not just a leader, but something more... majestic.
The next day, Kairos arranged a meeting in an old warehouse on the city's outskirts, a place hidden from Veridian's spies. The warehouse smelled of decaying wood and lamp oil, with stacks of old crates creaking when touched.
Sunlight filtered through cracks in the walls, creating bright lines that cut through the darkness.
Kairos arrived early, preparing maps and a few simple sketches of the Iron River Bridge. He deliberately chose this place—a cramped, dark space—to test his new allies' resolve.
Jaxon was the first to arrive, his steps heavy but steady, a short sword swaying gently at his hip. Then came Mira, carrying a roll of cloth filled with small tools and several knives hidden beneath her cloak.
Finnan arrived with hesitant steps, his eyes constantly scanning his surroundings as if afraid of being followed. Lastly, Count Ronan, in a luxurious robe he wore to camouflage any suspicion of himself, stepped in with a flat expression, yet his eyes thoroughly scrutinizing his surroundings.
Kairos stood in the center of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. He wore nothing flashy—just a simple, dark gray robe—yet there was something in his posture, in the gaze of his glowing blue eyes, that made the air feel heavier.
When everyone had gathered, he didn't speak immediately. He let silence envelop the room, allowing them to feel the weight of the moment they were about to face.
The silence he created was intentional, meant to command, to demand their attention without needing words.
"I'm glad you came," Kairos finally said, his voice low yet full of authority. "This is not just a meeting. This is the first step towards the justice you seek."
Jaxon crossed his arms, his eyebrows raised. "Your words are grand, Remus—man of the north, or whatever your name is. But I want to know, what makes you so sure we can win against Therion and the Veridian forces? Their convoys are heavily guarded."
Kairos smiled faintly, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. He stepped closer to Jaxon, close enough for the former soldier to feel the intense aura radiating from him.
"Have you ever wondered, Jaxon, why people willingly follow someone, even when the chances of winning are small? It's not because of the strength of swords, nor the number of troops. It's because of conviction, and I offer you that conviction."
Jaxon stared at him, wanting to argue, but there was something in Kairos's tone that choked his words in his throat. Mira, usually quick to speak as one of the market's gossip hubs, simply watched Kairos with eyes full of curiosity, as if trying to solve a riddle.
Finnan shifted his feet, looking uncomfortable, while Count Ronan remained silent, his hand playing with a ring on his finger, but his eyes never leaving Kairos.
"Let's get straight to the plan," Kairos continued, walking to the table and spreading out the map. "The Iron River Bridge is the convoy's only route. The terrain is narrow, surrounded by cliffs and dense forest—perfect for an ambush."
Without raising his head, he divided the tasks. "Jaxon, you and a few men you trust will lead the direct assault. Mira, I need traps. They can be small mines, smoke, anything that can create chaos."
He raised his head, looking at Finnan, who still seemed hesitant and fearful. "Finnan, you know every inch of the forest around the bridge; you'll guide us in and out undetected. And you, Ronan..."
Kairos turned to the nobleman, his eyes narrowing. "I need information. Who is leading the convoy? How many soldiers? And if possible, disrupt their plans from within."
Ronan nodded slowly, but there was hesitation on his face. "I can get that information. But if Therion's people get wind of this plan, my head will be the first displayed at the city gate."
"No one will know," Kairos said, his voice firm, almost like a command. "As long as you follow my plan, we will be one step ahead."
Mira raised her hand, her scarf slipping slightly to reveal a scar on her neck. "I can make traps, but I need materials—gunpowder, oil, and some tools. That's not cheap, and I don't have access to the black market here."
Kairos nodded, pulling a small pouch of gold coins from beneath his robe, which he had taken from some bandits outside the city before arriving. He tossed the pouch to Mira. "Use this. If it's not enough, let me know."
Mira caught the pouch, weighed it in her hand, then looked at Kairos with a mixed expression—awe and suspicion. "Where did you get all this? You said you weren't a noble, but ordinary people don't carry this much gold."
Kairos merely smiled, offering no answer. He knew such questions would arise, but he also knew that mystery was a weapon. The less they knew, the greater his influence over them.
He stepped back, letting the lantern light fall upon his face, highlighting his blue eyes that seemed to shine in the darkness. "You don't need to know who I am. You just need to know that I am on your side. And I will not let Therion and Veridian, under his rule, destroy what you hold."
There was something in the way he spoke, in his upright and confident posture, that made the room feel smaller. Finnan, usually nervous, suddenly grew quiet, his eyes locked on Kairos as if unable to look away.
Jaxon nodded slowly, his hands no longer crossed, but hanging at his sides, the stance of a soldier receiving orders. Mira also nodded, though her eyes were still full of questions.
And Ronan, the most skeptical among them, sighed softly, as if surrendering to an unspoken urge to trust this young man.
***
Over the next few days, Kairos led the preparations with an almost inhuman precision. He always seemed to know when to push, when to hold back.
Yet, beneath it all, Kairos felt his power begin to stir. He never revealed his draconic nature—no scales, no visible fire—but he knew his presence influenced them all.
There were moments when he looked into someone's eyes, and they would fall silent, as if sensing something great and majestic dwelling within him.
He clearly saw it in the way Finnan no longer fidgeted with his arms when speaking to him, in the way Mira began to obey his commands without much questioning, and in the way Ronan, the hardest to convince, began to look at him with a mixture of respect and fear.