crown of self-interest

In the dim, flickering torchlight of his chambers, Zaros sat at his desk, a spread of maps, ancient texts, and arcane artifacts surrounding him. The shadows danced on the stone walls, casting long, eerie shapes that moved like living things as if echoing the power that pulsed from the great sorcerer’s presence. He studied the world before him—the lands, the seas, the borders of continents, and the paths of ancient civilizations that had risen and crumbled long before his time.

Verathen, the city he now controlled, was a mere stepping stone. He had bent the Council of Elders to his will, crushed any opposition to his command of its arcane resources, and ensured that no whisper of rebellion would reach his ears. But he knew well enough that Verathen was just the beginning. His ambitions stretched far beyond the city's walls, to the very edges of the known world—and beyond.

If his goals were to be realized—if he was to ascend beyond the mortal plane and claim dominion over life and death—he needed to know the wider world in its entirety. Every continent, every dimension, every force of magic must be laid bare before him, bent and twisted to serve his will. His eyes burned with the intensity of that thought, a hunger that simmered just below the surface, as endless and dark as the void.

Tonight, he summoned Rielin, his trusted lieutenant, for more than just counsel. Her knowledge was invaluable, yes—her travels had taken her far beyond the familiar lands, into places Zaros had only begun to imagine. But it was more than that. There was something between them, a tension, a dangerous edge to their relationship that Zaros had never explored fully. Until now.

The heavy oak door creaked open, and Rielin stepped inside, her dark leather armor accentuating the curves of her body as she moved with the fluid grace of a predator. Her gaze was steady as she bowed slightly, though her eyes flicked up to meet his for just a moment, a spark of something dangerous flashing between them.

"My lord," she said, her voice low and smooth, with a hint of something unspoken, "you summoned me."

Zaros didn’t lift his gaze from the map spread out before him, though he was keenly aware of her presence, of the way the air in the room seemed to shift with her arrival. "Yes," he replied, his tone measured but carrying a weight of command, "I have need of your knowledge. The world beyond Verathen... its secrets."

She stepped closer, her boots soft on the stone floor, until she stood at the edge of the desk. Her fingers brushed the edge of one of the ancient texts, but her eyes never left his face. "The world is vast," she said softly, "and dangerous. But I have seen its hidden places, my lord. I have felt its pulse."

Zaros’s eyes flicked up to meet hers then, a spark of curiosity mingling with the dark power that always simmered within him. "And what of its pleasures?" he asked, his voice dropping a fraction, the air between them growing heavier with unsaid words.

Rielin’s lips curved into a faint smile, but there was nothing soft about it. "I have known those too," she replied, her voice a low purr. "In many lands, and in many forms."

For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick with the unspoken. Zaros stood, moving around the desk with a deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving hers. He could feel the tension crackling in the air, the pull between them like a current just beneath the surface, dangerous and irresistible.

When he stopped before her, he reached out, tracing a finger along her jawline, the touch feather-light but charged with intent. "I wonder," he murmured, his voice a dark whisper, "if I should claim this world, would you stand by my side?"

Her breath hitched slightly at his touch, but her gaze never wavered. "I would follow you anywhere," she replied, her voice equally low, "if you can prove that you are worthy to rule it."

A smile played on Zaros’s lips, cold and calculating. "I intend to prove it," he said, his hand sliding down to her throat, not in threat, but in possession, as if testing the boundaries of what lay between them.

She leaned into his touch, her own hand coming up to rest on his chest, fingers splayed against the dark fabric of his robes. "Then prove it," she whispered, her breath hot against his skin, her words a challenge as much as an invitation.

Zaros’s eyes darkened with something primal, something far more dangerous than mere desire. He pulled her to him, their bodies colliding with a force that spoke of all the power and ambition that lay within him. The kiss was fierce, almost brutal in its intensity, as if both were testing each other’s resolve, pushing the limits of control and surrender.

But Zaros, always the master of both, broke away first, leaving her breathless, the fire in her eyes matched only by the one burning in his own. "This is only the beginning," he said, his voice a dark promise.

Rielin smiled, her lips still swollen from the kiss. "Then let it begin, my lord."