Voidborne:The Soul sea chronicles

The morning in the camp was a haze of movement and muted conversations. Soldiers shuffled about their tasks, their faces weary and hardened. Eliot and Harlen stood near the center of the camp, waiting for the summons from Captain Alric Thorne. Harlen appeared tense, his hands clenching and unclenching, while Eliot's gaze was sharp, scanning the surroundings.

A servant approached them, bowing slightly. "The Captain is expecting you. Follow me."

They walked in silence, weaving through the camp until they reached a clearing where Alric was practicing sword forms. His movements were precise and fluid, each swing of the blade carrying an air of discipline and power . The servant stood at the edge of the clearing, hesitant to interrupt.

"Captain Thorne," the servant said, bowing deeply. "The men you summoned have arrived."

Alric paused mid-swing, his blade glinting in the dim light. He turned to face them, his sharp eyes sweeping over Eliot and Harlen. Without a word, he sheathed his sword and gestured toward the servant. "Bring them food. Let them eat before we speak."

The servant hurried off, leaving the two men standing before Alric. Harlen shifted uncomfortably under the captain's gaze, but Eliot met it head-on, his expression calm and unreadable.

Moments later, the servant returned with bowls of steaming stew and bread. Eliot and Harlen sat at a nearby bench, eating in silence. Harlen's appetite seemed dulled by the weight of the situation, but Eliot ate methodically, his mind clearly elsewhere.

When they were finished, the servant escorted them to Alric's quarters. The room was spartan but organized, with a desk cluttered with maps and reports. Alric sat behind the desk, his posture straight and imposing. He gestured for them to sit.

"I'll get straight to the point," Alric said, his tone sharp and businesslike. He turned his gaze to Harlen. "You're an awakened now. That makes you valuable to the Empire, to me, and to anyone with the ambition to rise. I want you to join me as one of my personal soldiers. I'll treat you with the respect and honor an awakened deserves."

Harlen blinked, clearly caught off guard by the suggestion. "Your… personal soldier? What about the Empire? What about him?" He gestured to Eliot. "He saved me. What happens to him?"

Alric leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "The Empire has its awakened, yes. Most are funneled directly into its ranks. But as a noble, I have the authority and the resources to build my own force of loyal soldiers. The Empire encourages it, provided we don't step out of line. You'd be under my protection, not theirs."

Harlen's brow furrowed as he processed the information. Before he could respond, Eliot interrupted, his voice steady and clear. "What are the conditions? If he joins you, what does he have to give up?"

The question hung in the air like a blade. Harlenturned to Eliot, his expression conflicted. He hadn't expected Eliot to speak up, especially not like this. For a moment, hope flickered in Harlen's eyes—hope that Eliot might demand something for his family's safety.

Alric's lips curled into a faint smirk, amused by Eliot's boldness. "You're not an awakened, nor someone with status, yet you speak as if you're negotiating."

Eliot met his gaze, unflinching. "That doesn't answer the question. Why not recruit one of the awakened already at this camp? Why him?"

Harlen stiffened at the question, realizing its implications. Eliot's tone wasn't accusatory, but the words struck a chord. Harlen had been hoping that Eliot would ask Alric to find his family, to offer some semblance of reassurance. But Eliot had gone straight to the heart of the matter—freedom.

Alric's smirk widened. "The awakened here are already tied to other captains, other ambitions. Harlen is unclaimed, fresh, and valuable. As for the conditions…" His smirk faded, replaced by a colder expression. "He'll have to disappear."

Harlen frowned. "Disappear?"

"You'll 'die' on the battlefield," Alric explained, his tone matter-of-fact. "Officially, you'll be listed as killed in action. Unofficially, you'll become one of my death soldiers. You'll serve me directly, away from the eyes of the Empire, loyal only to me."

Eliot leaned forward slightly, his voice casual but cutting. "So he'll lose his freedom. And if his family is alive, he'll have to act like they're dead."

The words struck a nerve. Harlen turned to Eliot, his eyes wide with shock. Alric, however, remained calm, his gaze unwavering. Eliot's face shifted slightly, a flicker of regret crossing his features not for the truth he had spoken, but for the unintended weight it carried.

Alric tilted his head, studying Eliot with a faint smile. "You're observant. But yes, you're right. That's exactly what it means."

Harlen's initial shock gave way to something darker,a deep resentment. He turned to Alric, his voice low and trembling. "You already knew about my family, didn't you?"

Alric's smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating expression. "I did."

Harlen's hands clenched into fists as he met Alric's gaze. "We didn't have a choice, did we?"

"No," Alric said bluntly, his voice devoid of any pretense. "You didn't. And you never will."

The room fell into a tense silence, the air thick with unspoken anger and resignation. Eliot watched the exchange, his own thoughts racing. He could feel the weight of Harlen's despair, the hopelessness of a man who had been trapped by forces far beyond his control.

After what felt like an eternity, Harlen spoke again, his voice quieter but no less intense. "If I do this, you'll leave my family alone?"

Alric nodded once. "They'll be safe, as long as you remain loyal."

Harlen closed his eyes, his shoulders sagging as the fight drained out of him. Eliot glanced at him, his chest tightening. He wanted to say something, to offer some kind of solace, but the words wouldn'tcome.

"You have until tomorrow to decide," Alric said, his tone final. "Now go. Rest while you can."

Eliot and Harlen stood, the weight of the conversation pressing down on them as they left the room. Neither spoke as they walked back to their corner of the camp. The world around them felt smaller, darker, as if the walls of the camp were closing in.

When they finally stopped, Harlen sank to the ground, his head in his hands. Eliot sat beside him, staring at the dirt beneath his feet.

"What are you going to do?" Eliot asked quietly.

Harlen didn't answer immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. "I don't know."

Eliot looked up at the gray sky above them, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He didn't have the answers Harlen needed, but they decided to to wait and see if the situation demands they will have to give up.but Eliot felt like he had a chance if he played his cards right,maybe they should try to join other captains but first they will have to differentiate between the captains.