Sunlight filtered through the crystalline canopy, bathing the chamber in a gentle, golden hue. The soft sound of leaves brushing against the wind-chimes set a tranquil rhythm, as if nature itself held its breath for the conversation that was unfolding.
Shuna had just departed, leaving behind a perfectly arranged tray of honeyed rice cakes, crystalline fruit slices, and fine leaf-brewed tea accompanied by Nyvaris' signature floral sake. The aroma mingled with the faint lavender-sandalwood scent always present in Varvatos' hall.
Just as they sat, soft footsteps echoed through the chamber. It was Shuna, dressed in her delicate white and rose-pink kimono. Her presence, as graceful as ever, brought with it a gentle aroma of herbs and fresh-baked sweetness.
"Tea, some honeyed rice cakes, and the forest dew sake you enjoy, Lord Varvatos," she said warmly, bowing with practiced elegance.
"Thank you, Shuna," Varvatos replied, his voice like silk over steel.
Gazel gave her a polite nod. "You always bring peace with you, Lady Shuna."
Shuna smiled softly before excusing herself, leaving the three of them in quiet comfort.
Varvatos reached for his cup, swirled the green-tinted sake once, and took a calm sip. "Now then," he said, his tone shifting just slightly, "this big news you mentioned, Gazel. I assume it wasn't just an excuse to drink my better wine?"
Gazel chuckled and leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. "No, not this time. The news concerns Rudra."
Velzard, who had just brought her cup to her lips, paused mid-sip and raised a single silver brow.
"Oho…" she mused, setting her cup down gently. "So, the Golden Emperor finally decided to make a move."
"He did," Gazel confirmed, his tone growing more serious but still conversational. "He came to Dwargon.Sat across from me at the table, looked me in the eyes, and said he wants to meet you."
Varvatos was mid-sip, but paused, eyes narrowing just slightly above his cup. He lowered it without a word and glanced between the two. His voice, calm and measured, followed after a moment of silence:
"…And what does Rudra want from me?"
Velzard rested her chin in her hand, elbow on the armrest, the faintest smirk forming on her lips. "That's the question, isn't it?"
She exhaled softly and said, "Normally, Rudra doesn't ask. He conquers. He sends armies, he overwhelms, or he simply forces what he wants into motion. But if he's going through all this… if he came personally to ask for a meeting…"
She trailed off and looked to Varvatos directly. "Then perhaps it's worth considering."
Gazel added, "He made no demands. Only a request. Said he would respect the boundaries and your will."
Gazel continued. "I also told him, if you do agree, only he and Velgrynd will be allowed to enter Nyvaris. Your barrier wouldn't allow anyone else through anyway."
Varvatos sat in silence for a moment. His expression was unreadable, but his fingers lightly tapped the side of his cup. The atmosphere in the room shifted—quiet, thoughtful, heavy with the gravity of decision.
"…He's never been interested in diplomacy before from what velzard told me," Varvatos said finally, almost to himself.
"But people change," Velzard replied gently, her tone without judgment. "And if he's trying, even if just once, shouldn't we at least hear what he has to say?"
Varvatos closed his eyes.
A breeze passed softly through the room, stirring the silk drapes that framed the open windows.
After a long, contemplative pause, he opened his eyes again—steady, resolute.
"Very well," he said at last, his voice calm but firm. "I shall meet with Rudra."
Gazel's brows lifted slightly, not in surprise, but in acknowledgment of the weight of those words.
"I will allow him and Velgrynd to enter Nyvaris."
Velzard smiled lightly, giving Varvatos a small nod of approval. "Then let's see what this Golden Emperor truly wants."
Gazel leaned back with a short sigh of relief, his heavy armor creaking slightly. "I'll return to Dwargon first thing in the morning. He'll be pleased to hear this."
Varvatos gave a short nod. "Tell him I will meet him here. On neutral ground. But the moment he acts out of line… he'll regret it."
Velzard smirked. "That's the Varvatos I know."
Laughter, light and genuine, rippled through the chamber as the tension finally began to lift. The three raised their cups quietly, as if sealing the decision with the soft clink of glass and the scent of cherry wine on the air.
The meeting was set.
The tension that had briefly lingered after talk of Rudra's request dissolved like mist under sunlight. Laughter gradually returned to the room.
"So," Gazel leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eye, "the real mystery isn't that you built a city here—it's how you convinced both Veldora and Velzard to live in it with you."
Velzard snorted softly, sipping her drink. "He didn't convince anyone. I chose to stay here because it's entertaining. That, and I don't have to listen to the politics of the western nations. And Veldora? Well it was fate lets say."
Gazel chuckled, Still, when I heard someone had built a city in the Jura Forest, I thought it was nonsense. Everyone in the Cardinal World knows Jura is Veldora's domain. You don't walk in there unless you've got a death wish—or a deal with a dragon."
Varvatos gave a faint smile. "I didn't ask permission. I simply made a place that could not be ignored."
Velzard raised her glass. "And now it's the strongest neutral force in the continent. Nyvaris has changed the game, whether the world realizes it or not."
Gazel nodded slowly, staring into his wine. "You know… even after all this time, I still don't know where you came from. You just appeared. A name no one had heard before… with power that silenced even the most arrogant of kings."
"Does it matter where I came from?" Varvatos asked calmly.
"Not to me," Gazel said with a grin. "But it does make you an excellent conversation topic in court meetings."
They all laughed at that, and for a time, they let the weight of politics and power rest on the fringes of their minds.
Eventually, the hour grew late.
The soft clinks of empty glasses and the faint scent of rich woodsmoke lingered in the air. The trio sat comfortably beneath the golden-laced canopy of the hall, warmth from a quiet hearth flickering behind them. Outside, the mystical trees of Nyvaris swayed in the silver moonlight.
Gazel leaned back in his chair, releasing a content sigh. "This place never gets old," he murmured. "Peaceful, yet unsettling… as if the land itself is alive."
"It is alive," Velzard replied, stretching slightly. "You should spend more time here. The land responds to him." She inclined her head toward Varvatos, who sat silently, fingers interlaced beneath his chin.
Then, Varvatos broke the quiet. "When you return to Dwargon, tell Rudra… I'll open the portal directly beside his throne."
Gazel blinked. "Wait… what?"
"I said," Varvatos repeated with calm finality, "the portal will open beside his throne. In his hall. Let him see for himself what I'm capable of… before we speak."
For a moment, all Gazel could do was stare.
Velzard raised an eyebrow but gave a slow, amused smile. "That'll rattle him."
Gazel leaned forward. "You can open a gate inside the Holy Imperial Palace without ever stepping foot in it?"
Varvatos looked at him with an unreadable gaze. "Gazel, the palace is not beyond my reach. Nor is any place, really."
The words weren't arrogant. They were a simple statement of fact.
Gazel exhaled through his nose, half-stunned, half-intrigued. "That'll certainly make an impression."
"It should," Varvatos said. "If Rudra truly wants this meeting, let him understand what kind of being he's dealing with… before he says the first word."
With a shared look and a final round of drinks, their night came to an end—an evening of laughter, strange tension, and powerful decisions.
The Next Morning – Dwargon, Gazel's Private Hall
The sun rose over the mountain citadel, painting its peaks in molten gold. Gazel stood on his balcony, wind ruffling his cloak, a mixture of disbelief and anticipation on his face.
He activated the communication crystal again, the hum of magic pulsing gently as he reached out.
"Rudra."
The connection sparked.
"I'm here. Speak." came Rudra's steady voice.
Gazel folded his arms. "I have your answer. Varvatos has agreed to meet you."
A pause.
"Good," Rudra said calmly.
But Gazel smirked. "You didn't let me finish. He said he'll open a portal… directly beside your throne."
"…What?" Rudra's voice shifted, just slightly, with surprise.
"I said, Varvatos will open a portal beside your throne in the Imperial Hall. No fanfare. No messengers. One moment there's empty space—next moment, a door to Nyvaris appears."
There was silence.
Then, Velgrynd's voice joined the call, uncharacteristically serious. "He can do that?"
"Yes," Gazel answered. "Effortlessly, I might add."
In the throne room, Rudra stood from his seat, his brows furrowed with a mixture of awe and wariness. Around him, his generals stirred uneasily, exchanging glances.
"He's never been here," muttered one. "How can he open a portal into the throne chamber?"
"He doesn't need to be here," Velgrynd said quietly, arms crossed. "If he said he will, he will. You all better take this meeting very seriously."
Rudra said nothing for a few seconds. Then he let out a low exhale, his tone now edged with reverence.
"…So this is Varvatos."
Gazel's voice echoed once more through the crystal. "Prepare yourself, Rudra. The portal opens tomorrow at noon."
With the message delivered, the connection faded.
In the heart of the Holy Empire, silence filled the throne room. Even Rudra, the ever-confident emperor, found himself adjusting the collar of his coat.
"Velgrynd," he said finally, his voice low. "Let's make sure we're ready."
Velgrynd smiled faintly, fire in her eyes. "It's not every day someone like him comes knocking."