Next day Ivendir marched along the corridor to meet with a few disliked figures. His serious but also relaxed face expressed no emotions. Despite being a few minutes late, his pace was steady and unhurried. His eyes gazed impassively into the distance. A dark blue tunic shrouded his body, giving him a lighter appearance. His silken hair heaved behind him, reflecting the beams of setting sun. He chose small but sophisticated garnish–an intricate golden necklace and a ring with blue opal. It was enough to show his wealth but also he didn't look like a fashion victim.

  Thelrim followed the king. He had an elaborate robe too, but he resigned from trinkets. He never liked too many bells and whistles, except his four earrings. His brown tunic with a creamy belt exposed his massive silhouette, and his bald head gave him the appearance of a roughly hewn sculpture.

  Fewer and fewer meters divided Ivendir from the narrow gates but he felt no fear. The more he thought about Brymir, the less anxiety remained in him. He decided this will be the day when he gets rid of those primitive emotions and builds a new image of himself.

  Whenever an intrusive suspicion creept into his mind, he took a slow, deep breath and clenched his fists for a moment. He nipped them in the bud just like he silenced his three unexpected enemies.

  The gates drew back, revealing a long, empty table with ornately decorated chairs. Only two of them were taken. A bald, blue-skinned Kehrian sat next to a Nelphian. Just like many Moryans, the Kehrian didn't care too much about his appearance. He wore a simple maroon shirt, but the golden rings in his long ears had to express his wealth. He was propping his head on his fist, lazily following Ivendir with his big, amber eyes.

  The Nelphian straddled on the chair because his knees bent in the opposite direction, similarly to a bird's limbs. He held his hands folded, and his black nails resembled obsidian shards. Tiny blue speckles adorned his pale green skin, especially on his head and shoulders. The hood of his vest covered his elongated forehead to hide the colour-changing smudge, which displayed his real emotions. The large, deep violet eyes of the Nelphian opened wider when Ivendir crossed the doorstep.

  The Kehrian stretched his arms with a disgusting crack and began, "Well, well, well, our friend proposes us a meeting first?"

  With one rapid move Ivendir drew a chair aside. "Yes, I do," he said and sat sprawled, resting his chin on his knuckles.

  Thelrim crossed his arms and stood next to the door, leaning against the wall.

  "I'm paying my last instalment and we're parting ways," added Ivendir.

  He tapped his LiqWatch and the screen brightened up. The Kehrian and the Nelphian glanced at each other with slight, scornful smiles.

  "Wait a minute." The Kehrian lifted his hand. "You're paying the instalment, right?"

  "Right," said Ivendir, still staring at the screen and searching for a bank.

  "How about the interests?"

  Ivendir raised his eyebrow and looked at the Kehrian. "Take what I'm giving you and go back where you came from." He bent over his device again. "To your Morya and your sly lord."

  The Nelphian rested his hands on the edge of the table and barged in, "Come on. We helped you become the king and eliminate a few of your rivals, all we want is a little tip..."

  "Take that." Ivendir hit the screen with his finger, ignoring the Nelphian's comment.

  He sensed he had control over something for the first time. He didn't remember ever having so much confidence. His former allies lost one of their weapons–the fear. The feeling of power sobered up his tarnished mind like a bucket of cold water dampens a dry, growing plant. Now, when he displaced all doubt, he began to consider himself the real king of Helvetto. The blue crystal in his sword meant nothing until he got rid of the anxiety. From his point of view, the previous version of himself was nothing more than a cowardly peasant.

  He smiled as the money transfer ended and looked up.

  The Nelphian narrowed his eyes, uncovering his third, semi-transparent eyelid. "Please, don't play with us," he said with a pretended politeness. "Look, you are quite weak right now." He waited for the answer, quietly tapping his nails on the table. When Ivendir still didn't pay attention to him, he added, "Crisis approaches your kingdom, many citizens don't sympathise with you, and your army was never big enough." He raised the corners of his narrow mouth. "...and all your Vardir Commanders abandoned you."

  The Kehrian nodded with an exaggerated seriousness. "They aren't the only ones who will betray you."

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Ivendir slightly pursed his lips. This cutting remark acted on him as a little, annoying insect. It gently nudged his confidence, reminding him about his current situation. He was less safe than he thought during this surge of bravery. He reprimanded himself for his lack of vigilance. Resting on his laurels could kill him as effectively as bombs and bullets.

  Ivendir leant towards the Moryans, resting his elbow against the table. "It's my kingdom," he said in a soft voice, "your reign here is over. I paid, as we agreed." He moved away and settled down, crossing his arms. "Now you can take your payment and leave."

  The Kehrian sighed. His victim wasn't aware of the gravity of this situation. Ivendir was their tethered bird which just began to peck and scream. The Kehrian didn't worry too much about it. They could silence the rebellious king whenever they wanted to. Despite this, he thought that giving an honest warning would be a fair thing to do.

  He pointed at the sky. "We can leave and come back here at any moment," he muttered, slowly shaking his head, "but then our intent won't be that peaceful."

  Ivendir clenched his fist under the table. Moisture appeared on his palms but he felt a stinging chill all over his back.

  Come on, he thought. You can do that. You can't hide forever. This is your world.

  He tensed and relaxed his fingers. His hands still trembled but after a few deep, unhurried breaths, his heart beat evenly and placidly. Once again he quelled the fright and anxiety. This constant clash with his own concerns drained a large share of his energy, leaving his muscles worn out and sore.

  You have to be better than Brymir.

  He smiled, looking at the Moryans with pity. "I'm not afraid of you," he said meekly, "or any other Moryans."

  The Kehrian raised the corner of his mouth. "Not yet." He pushed the chair away in stride and stood up. "That's fine. You can play the brave one, just don't be surprised when some..." A malicious spark flickered in his eyes. "...accident happens to you."

  The Nelphian leapt from the chair. As he stood straight, he towered over the Kehrian and the Celestian. "You, on Helvetto and anywhere else, think we're primitive invaders but we're smarter than that." He approached the Kehrian, crooking back and forth like a bird. "Our revenge doesn't always end with bombs and fire."

  They approached the door at leisure, ignoring Thelrim and his suspicious gaze.

  "Watch your back," muttered the Kehrian, glancing at the king. "Or your sky. We may hurt you silently or burn this place to the ground with a flourish."

  Ivendir turned towards them and spread his arms in a theatrically helpless gesture. "Look at me," he murmured with a dramatic tone. "I'm so afraid."

  Before the Kehrian turned behind the doorway, he added in passing, "You will be."

  Ivendir rolled his eyes. The adrenaline in his veins didn't let him take that seriously yet.

  A day later Ivendir gazed through the window at the sunset. He managed to simmer down after the confab with the Moryans. He knew he walked on thin ice, and his former allies will stop at nothing to get even. Despite this, he was sure he did the right thing. In his view, wringing the neck of this parasite will do more good than letting it prey on his own resources.

  He repeated these thoughts all the time but a little tinge of anxiety still roamed around his mind. As he gazed at the sunset, the concern and unrest quietened down like a volcano–the surface became hard and smooth but the inner layer raged and sought its vent.

  As the sun began to dip below the horizon, the vibrant hues of orange, pink, and purple lit up the sky. The long shadows of mountains and hills spread across the landscape, engulfing the forests and meadows in gentle darkness. Only the city in the valley cast a golden afterglow. A few ships drifted across the sky, mimicking lively stars.

  One of them caught Ivendir's attention. A smaller, barely visible dot seemed to fall from the ship. It sped towards the suburbs almost at a right angle. Ivendir narrowed his eyes. Those violent manoeuvres above the inhabited areas were illegal. It made him wonder where the services are and why they didn't stop this vehicle.

  The next thing he saw made him hunch and recoil. A small but bright explosion glowed among the buildings. Ivendir narrowed his eyes and craned his neck, still hunching behind the curtains. Thirty seconds later, when the white flare turned into an orange afterglow of fire, Ivendir's LiqWatch beeped.

  "Rapid Response, do you read me?" he asked, still gazing at the display of all shades of orange. "What happened?"

  Only then he began to feel how fear gradually captures his body. His fist shivered and his palm became wet. His tensed ears moved when he sensed an imagined presence behind his back.

  "Your Highness?" the voice spoke up. "Did something happen to you?"

  "No," snarled the king. "What was that?"

  A few cracking noises resounded in the communicator but the chief outshouted them, "A tiny warhead fell on an empty storage." Another buzz interrupted this answer. "We... couldn't trace it. There was a short interval in our readings..."

  "The Moryans, right?" growled Ivendir as wrath and dread overwhelmed him. "Only they could block our signals."

  "We don't know yet. We will inform you on an ongoing basis."

  Ivendir nodded and the call ended. He sat down on the edge of his bed, nervously turning his LiqWatch around his wrist. The spite surging in his veins made his hands tremble. The Moryans laughed right in his face.

  Before wrath overwhelmed him, a spark of fear scorched his heart. The Moryans were just an exhausting, but also harmless parasite until now. After this attack, they became a real threat.

  Ivendir's heart speeds up. His sight rushed from one corner of his chamber to another. He tried to concentrate on his next move but his thoughts persistently wandered towards the incoming atrocities of Moryans. Every blow of the wind from outside felt to him like a sinister breath on his neck. He began to assume that they may already be here.

  With his eyes open wide, he jumped to his feet. He looked around. His chamber was still empty. His obsession of checking the lockers manifested itself with a gimlet ache in his stomach. He took a step forward to approach the nearest locker, but at that moment his LiqWatch beeped once again.

  Ivendir froze. He moved his ears to make sure that it's not his imagination. Lifting his quivering hand, he tapped the screen. As he understood what was written in the message, a freezing, devastating shock drilled through skin, flesh and bone.

  The next one will be... bigger.

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