1576 Aware
"I'm aware."
The voice didn't seem particularly imposing. It was the sort of voice you could easily forget-not particularly masculine or feminine, forgettable in its presence, though soft in its delivery. It wasn't quite lazy, but it erred on the side of it nonetheless.
The youth that sat on the throne was equally as forgettable. In fact, looking at his face, a single blink could seemingly wipe it from your memory.
Hard to grasp, ethereal, almost ghost-like.
And that was precisely how this young man was known.
Ghost.
If one wasn't speaking to him with esteem and reverence, this was the name they used. But what was shocking about all of this was that while a Thryskai with wings bowed to this young man... The young man himself didn't have a pair of wings at all.
He was no Demi-God. He was a Mortal Thryskai.
The Thryskai remained kneeling with his head low. Without the express word of the youth on the throne ahead, he didn't seem to have the courage in his heart to raise his own gaze.
"It's alright," the youth eventually said, allowing the Thryskai Demi-God to relax just the slightest bit. "Earth has already played out its purpose. With the death of the Myrrakhael, a path toward Demi-Godhood has been opened. Maybe it's simply time for my Purvon Clan to step into this role."
The lazy, languid speech of the youth made it sound as though he could have done this long ago but was biding his time for something more.
"This was Sylas Grimblade's doing, correct?"
The tension of the Thryskai returned. "Yes, my King."
"The one you mentioned had the smell of the Rat on him?"
"Yes, my King."
"Mm. Anyone who can survive the schemes of that cancer is worth some extra attention. You were right to flag him. Unfortunately, he seems clever enough to have avoided the obvious pitfalls, and his skills are not small. If the Professors were a more cohesive unit, this would have never happened."
The youth shook his head-or rather, barely did. He had his chin leaning on a palm that was propped up by an elbow on the throne's armrest. As though he wasn't comfortable enough, he had swung a single leg over the other armrest as he stared out into the distance, his face still hard to spot through a malaise of foggy Will.
Of course, he was correct. The Professors were an unpredictable group. But they were also amongst the few that the youth had no choice but to respect intellectually speaking.
Anyone who could become a Professor had great intelligence. The problem was that they had severe underlying character flaws as well. The few able to overcome this were the truly fearsome ones among them.
But such people were so rare that they had no choice but to take in anyone with the faintest chance and sieve through the rest until they were left with gold.
The youth's options decades ago weren't as expansive as they were now. If he had the choice, he wouldn't have taken such gambles on a variable like this. Now he had an annoying enemy like Sylas to be wary of.
"List the Grimblade as a top-priority target."
The pupils of the Thryskai constricted into pinholes.
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