No amount of forewarning could have prepared me for what I felt as we passed through the gates of Veritas. The moment our little procession crossed the threshold, it hit me like a physical blow—a surge of energy so intense I nearly fell from my saddle.

  "Steady there, my lord," Willem said, moving his horse closer to mine. "Looking a bit pale, if you don't mind me saying."

  Pale was an understatement.

  My skin prickled as though I'd ridden through a thunderstorm, and the silver ring on my finger had grown so hot it nearly burned.

  Beneath us—beneath the cobblestones and sewers and foundations of the city itself—I could sense currents of power flowing like underground rivers, converging and diverging in patterns that no physical map could capture.

  "It's the city," I managed, gripping my reins tighter. "There's something... beneath it."

  Sister Morgana's voice drifted from the carriage window. "The capital sits atop the largest convergence of energy pathways in the kingdom. Ninety-six percent of major cities develop at such junctions, though most inhabitants remain unaware of the true reason."

  "The palace," I murmured, my eyes drawn to the distant towers rising from the center of the city. Even from here, I could sense it—a massive node where countless currents intersected, pulsing with energy that made my teeth ache. "It's built directly over the largest convergence point."

  "Not by accident," Sister Hekate added. "Kings of old knew what thy blood now perceives. Power recognizes power, whether mortal or mystical."

  Captain Dureforge studied me with narrowed eyes. "You can actually see these energy paths?"

  "Not see exactly," I tried to explain. "More like... feel. The way you can sense a fire in a dark room without actually seeing the flames."

  She nodded slowly. "My hand resonates with certain places in the city. Never knew why."

  "Because it's attuned to the currents," Sister Circe piped up, bouncing excitedly in her seat. "Whoever made it used materials that dance with the energy flows! Very clever craftsmanship!"

  The gate guard cleared his throat loudly, reminding us we were blocking the entrance. "Papers and purpose," he demanded, clearly bored with our conversation.

  "Lord Magius Greywers, Knight-Protector of the Southern Marches," I replied, handing over my documentation with a hand that still trembled slightly. "Summoned to court."

  He verified my papers with the cursory attention of someone who'd performed the same task a thousand times that day. "Quarters have been arranged at the Gilded Lance in the eastern quarter. Court summons indicates your presence is expected tomorrow afternoon."

  We proceeded into the city proper, navigating streets that grew more crowded the deeper we ventured. Every intersection, every bridge, every public square sparked new sensations as we crossed unseen pathways.

  I found myself unconsciously guiding my horse along routes that aligned with these currents, drawn to follow them as naturally as water flows downhill.

  "You're feeling the paths, aren't you?" Captain Dureforge observed quietly. "You keep adjusting our route."

  I hadn't even realized I was doing it. "They're everywhere. Stronger in some places than others."

  "Your sensitivity increases with proximity to major convergences," Morgana explained. "The dampening ring can only moderate the input, not eliminate it entirely."

  "It's like learning to hear," Circe added helpfully. "At first everything's just noise, but then you start picking out individual sounds and voices! Soon you'll be dancing along the currents like they're familiar tunes!"

  I wasn't sure I wanted to "dance" anywhere, given how the pathways made my head swim. But I had to admit there was something almost musical about the way they pulsed and flowed beneath the city—rhythms and harmonies I was only beginning to comprehend.

  Willem, practical as ever, broke through my abstraction. "The Gilded Lance first, my lord? Or do we have other business to attend?"

  I shook my head, trying to focus on mundane matters. "The Lance first. We need to establish our presence before—"

  "Before your appointment," interrupted a voice from the crowd.

  A slender figure detached itself from the flow of pedestrians—a woman in a simple gray cloak that somehow deflected attention despite its plainness. Her face was youthful but her eyes held the weight of decades.

  "Lord Greywers," she said with a slight inclination of her head. "Your presence has been anticipated."

  Willem's hand moved to his sword, but Sister Hekate made a subtle gesture that stayed him.

  "Who are you?" I asked, though something about her resonated with the currents beneath us—as though she were somehow aligned with their flow.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  "A guide, sent by one who would meet with you." Her eyes flicked to the Sisters, then to Captain Dureforge, assessing and categorizing with unnerving speed. "Magistra Vale honors her obligations, Lord Greywers. Particularly those established through Administrator Thorne."

  My meeting with Magistra Helena Vale—the request I'd made when signing the expanded contract. In the chaos of our journey, I'd nearly forgotten.

  "When and where?" I asked.

  "Now, if circumstances permit." She glanced meaningfully at the setting sun. "The pathways flow most favorably at twilight."

  The Sisters exchanged glances, having one of their silent conversations. Finally, Morgana spoke. "The probability of genuine Covenant communication is ninety-two percent. The alternative residence coordinates match established protocols."

  "Alternative residence?" I asked.

  "The Twilight Covenant maintains several properties in the capital," the messenger explained. "Less conspicuous than our primary offices."

  Captain Dureforge frowned. "Splitting up seems unwise, given recent events."

  "The Captain raises a valid concern," I said. "We've had... encounters on our journey."

  The messenger nodded. "We are aware of the Phoenix interest in your case. Precautions have been implemented." She gestured to a narrow side street. "A more private route would be advisable."

  After a brief discussion, we decided to proceed cautiously. Captain Dureforge and Willem would continue to the Gilded Lance with sufficient luggage to maintain appearances. I would accompany the Sisters and our mysterious guide to meet Magistra Vale.

  "Be on your guard," Dureforge warned as we parted. "Court politics are deadlier than any battlefield."

  "Is that personal experience speaking, Captain?" I asked.

  She flexed her metal hand meaningfully. "Let's just say I didn't lose this fighting border raiders."

  With that ominous farewell, we followed our guide into the labyrinth of Veritas's back streets. She led us along a winding route that corresponded to no logical city planning but, I realized, perfectly followed the stronger energy currents beneath the cobblestones.

  "You're following the paths," I observed.

  She glanced back, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "You perceive them already? Impressive. Most take months to develop such awareness."

  "He's a quick study," Circe chirped proudly. "His bloodline patterns are the strongest I've seen in ages! Like looking at a piece of music written in blue light!"

  Our guide nodded, a flicker of what might have been envy crossing her face. "I can sense only the strongest currents, and even those as mere whispers. A distant echo of Ley Line Walker blood, diluted through generations. Just enough to serve as a guide, but nothing more."

  "Yet you navigate them confidently," I noted.

  "Years of practice and duty to the Covenant." She kept her eyes forward as we continued through increasingly narrow passages. "Those with even fragments of the gift are valued for what little we can contribute. Not all bloodlines maintain their strength through the generations as yours has, Lord Greywers."

  Her words added another layer to my understanding. Ley Line Walker bloodlines varied in power, some fading to mere traces while others—like mine, apparently—retained their potency despite generations of dormancy.

  It explained why the Phoenix Collective sought specific targets rather than simply anyone with the slightest sensitivity.

  We continued through increasingly narrow passages until we reached a modest townhouse tucked between larger buildings. Unlike the Twilight Covenant's headquarters, this structure bore no identifying marks—just a simple door with a black iron knocker.

  "Magistra Vale awaits within," our guide announced, producing a key from her sleeve. "The Sisters are expected as well."

  The interior of the townhouse defied its unremarkable exterior. Clean, well-lit corridors led to a central atrium where natural light filtered through cleverly positioned skylights. The furnishings were sparse but of obvious quality, and everywhere I looked I spotted subtle patterns inlaid in the woodwork and stone—patterns that resonated with the currents flowing beneath the building.

  Several people moved about the space with purpose—men and women in simple attire who nonetheless carried themselves with the confidence of professionals. They acknowledged the Sisters with respectful nods but regarded me with open curiosity.

  "Additional Covenant personnel," Morgana explained quietly. "Field agents, administrators, and specialized practitioners."

  "Lord Greywers," called a voice from across the atrium. "Welcome to Veritas."

  I turned to see an older woman approaching—tall and slender, with silver-streaked dark hair and mismatched eyes: one blue, one amber. She wore scholarly robes adorned with subtle symbols that seemed to shift when viewed directly.

  Something about her presence made the air feel thicker, as though reality itself bent slightly in her vicinity.

  "Magistra Helena Vale," Sister Hekate murmured, dipping into a formal curtsy that seemed at odds with her usual dignity.

  So this was the founder of the Twilight Covenant—the woman who had been monitoring my family's bloodline for generations, according to Administrator Thorne.

  I had expected someone more imposing, perhaps, but the quiet authority she projected was more unnerving than any grand gestures could have been.

  "Your journey proceeded largely as calculated," Vale said, her mismatched eyes studying me with unnerving intensity. "Though the military encounter was an unexpected variable."

  "Captain Dureforge has proven a valuable ally," I replied, matching her formal tone.

  "Indeed. Her presence adjusts certain probabilities in favorable directions." Vale gestured toward a side chamber. "Please, join me. There are matters we must discuss before your court appearance."

  The chamber she led us to appeared to be a study of sorts, though unlike any I'd seen before. Books and scrolls lined the walls, interspersed with strange instruments and specimens in glass containers. A large table dominated the center, its surface inlaid with a map of the kingdom—but one that showed glowing lines rather than roads or borders.

  "The current pathways," Vale explained, noting my interest. "As they currently flow beneath Veridian. The blue highlights represent the strongest currents, the gold the most depleted."

  I studied the map with newfound understanding. The capital sat at the center of a massive web of interconnected lines, with particularly strong convergences beneath the royal palace and, interestingly, the Phoenix Collective's headquarters.

  "Please, remove your shirt," Vale instructed without preamble. "I need to examine the pattern progression."

  I hesitated, glancing at the Sisters.

  Morgana nodded slightly. "Diagnostic necessity. Ninety-seven percent relevant to your condition."