Castin's breathing finally began to steady, his heartbeat returning to a rhythm he could almost recognize as normal. The throne room was a mess, littered with splintered furniture, shattered glass, and shell casings. Roe's lifeless eyes stared blankly from beneath the bloodstained desk, his reign permanently ended, his ambition reduced to nothing but an empty stare.
Matias stood quietly beside him, shoulders sagging slightly, the weight of Edgar's death clearly pressing heavily on his mind. His gaze was distant, filled with both exhaustion and grief. Lorne lingered near the throne, the strange collar still gripped in his hand, its eerie blue glow casting shadows across his body.
Garret finally broke the silence, his voice roughened from smoke and gunfire. "We need to secure the rest of the compound, sweep for survivors or holdouts. Can't afford any surprises when we're carrying our prisoner back."
Castin nodded quietly, glancing toward the bound and gagged Rixis, slumped resentfully against Roe's toppled throne. "Garret's right. Lorne, Vance, stay with Rixis. Garret, Matias, come with me, we'll secure Roe's chambers and whatever he left behind."
Lorne gave a sharp nod, gently pushing the wounded Vance into a seat before tightening his grip on Rixis's restraints. "We'll hold the line."
Castin glanced once more at Matias, noting the lines etched deeply into his friend's features. It dawned on Castin that it was nearly second nature to discern the emotions behind a Rats face now. Matias caught his look, sighing softly. "I'm fine, Castin. Let's just get this over with."
The trio moved cautiously toward the door behind Roe's desk, Matias taking point. Garret moved silently behind, his massive frame surprisingly graceful in the shadowed corridors. Castin followed close, rifle aimed low, eyes sharp.
Roe's chambers were quiet, suffused in a strange, oppressive stillness. Papers scattered across a large wooden table, candles flickering weakly in pools of wax, casting shifting shadows onto walls lined with shelves. Books, scrolls, and notebooks filled every available space, the madness of his person mimicked in his own room.
"This asshole lived just as crazy as he acted," Castin let out a sigh before continuing "Well I guess this is a good a place as any, let's start here." He ordered softly, nodding toward the desk. Matias moved immediately, pulling open drawers, flipping quickly through scattered notes. Castin began examining the shelves, carefully removing documents and books, thumbing through pages and pocketing those that seemed relevant.
Garret stood guard at the entrance, his ears constantly twitching, alert to any sign of approach. His posture was tense, but his breathing steady, eyes sharp and patient.
"Got something," Matias murmured, voice hushed. He held up a weathered leather journal, its cover scuffed and stained from frequent handling. Castin approached quickly, leaning over Matias's shoulder as he flipped through pages filled with Roe's messy, frantic handwriting.
Roe's ramblings filled the pages, increasingly desperate in tone. Most of it was incoherent rage, arrogance and the occasional threat of death towards whoever his flavor of the week hate crush was, but occasionally, clarity broke through.
"The girls powers seem to be coming back sooner and sooner, I'm gunna have to start burning through what's in her collar quicker than I thought, hope ol Niko don't mind me skimming off the top."
Castin exchanged a grim glance with Matias, who clenched his jaw tightly.
Another passage stood out, recent and hastily scrawled:
"The "Nikodemon" contacted me again. Wants more of the sedative shipped to an undisclosed location, outside Rat City this time. He knows I hate it up there, god damn lunatic, gotta send a smooth skin I haven't killed yet. Must be something big. Maybe that plan a his is almost put together."
Castin drew a slow breath, heart tightening uncomfortably in his chest. "Nikodemus…" he murmured quietly, eyes narrowing.
Garret shifted slightly at the doorway, his voice low and cautious. "Did I hear you right? Nikodemus is involved in this mess? Thought the bastard was dead."
Castin nodded slowly, closing Roe's diary and tucking it securely into his vest. "Yeah, the King had all but confirmed it for Matias and I. Nikodemus was up to something outside the city, something Roe was feeding, Apparently topside"
Matias moved silently around the table, carefully packing vials of the blue liquid into a secure case, his paws shaking slightly. "We'll bring this back. Maybe someone can make something of it, might help."
"It might," Castin agreed quietly, noticing the deep exhaustion and grief Matias was trying to mask. He laid a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Matias sighed heavily, shutting the case with a click. "No Castin. But I will be, once we get this stuff to someone who can use it."
Castin squeezed Matias's shoulder once more, silently promising support. "Alright. Garret, let's secure the rest of this and get moving."
The trio quickly swept Roe's chambers, gathering every piece of evidence that seemed significant. Documents, letters, schematics, everything was packed and ready. Castin paused at one shelf, noticing a familiar-looking pendant, carved delicately from dark wood, lying discarded amid the clutter.
He reached out slowly, carefully lifting the necklace. It belonged to Edgar, he'd seen it dozens of times. It featured a carving he had recognized from the bakery he remembered Edgar's words "Eli used to do that, left little marks like that wherever he went" His throat tightened painfully, the realization heavy and raw. "Edgar deserved better," he murmured softly before he showed Matias "We've got to make sure this gets to Elizabeth."
Matias's eyes filled again, grief tempered with determination. "We'll make sure he gets it."
Garret nodded gravely. "Damn right we will."
They returned quietly to the throne room, finding Lorne and Vance still secure. Lorne stood immediately, eyeing their haul with cautious optimism. "You get everything we need?"
"Looks that way," Castin confirmed quietly.
Vance raised his brow quizzically "Anything interesting?"
"Yeah actually," Castin started "Looks like Nikodemus was planning to haul a shipment of that blue shit to the surface."
Vance stiffened "No shit?" He said in disbelief.
Castin nodded "Rixis still secure?"
Vance gave a weak chuckle from his chair, clutching his wounded shoulder. "Yeah, he ain't going nowhere."
Rixis glared hatefully, clearly hoping for a chance at revenge for his arm but knowing it wouldn't come.
"Let's move," Castin ordered firmly. "I want everyone back home safe, the sooner this is all a memory the better."
The trip back through the compound felt like it took no time in comparison to entering it, Roe's remaining gang having fled, been captured, or scattered. They walked carefully but quickly, burdened by their wounded comrade, prisoner, and the knowledge they carried.
Soon the familiar destruction of the ruined quarter met them, all of them were familiar with the crooked structures and yet the place still seemed to steal their words and swilling their thoughts.
Eventually, the lantern-lit tunnels guided their return. "You smell that?" Garret said sniffing the air before answering himself. "Yeah, smells like that roasted meat cart down the way from the rusted fang." Vance responded poking Garret large belly "Aww ya hungry big guy?" Talking comically to Garrets stomach then saying "After we're done here let's grab something to bite."
Matias jumped in "Hey eyes forward, we're coming up on the palace." Castins focus shifted towards the two familiar guards that were walking to meet them halfway, helping secure Rixis and Vance for the remainder of the journey to the palace doors.
By the time they reached the palace, the exhaustion pressed heavily upon them. The consequence of both the battles they've waged and the secrets they've learned. But their arrival brought relief, weary sighs escaping them as the familiar, guarded walls welcomed them home as they made their way to a debriefing.
"Hey Matias, this place ever get less…" Castin gestured vaguely at nothing in particular. Matias stopped to look at a tapestry adorning the main hall "No, honestly," A look of sadness washed of Matias though Castin couldn't exactly tell why "It never does."
The Rat King awaited them in the war room, expression grim yet deeply relieved as they entered. He nodded solemnly to each, eyes lingering compassionately on Matias.
"Report," he instructed quietly.
"Roe is dead. When we arrived, he'd apparently been dead for a short time. Naomi escaped, and Edgar…" Castin's voice caught briefly. "Edgar didn't make it. We recovered his body."
Castin stepped forward, placing Roe's diary, Edgar's necklace, and a single vial of the blue liquid onto the table before him. After a brief pause, he carefully picked up the necklace again. "I want to be the one to tell her."
The Rat King closed his eyes just long enough for Castin to nearly ask if he was alright, sorrow visibly shadowing his expression. "You have my blessing, Castin."
"We secured a prisoner, Rixis. He tried to fill the void Roe left behind," Castin continued. "He's yours to question."
The Rat King nodded slowly, considering all they'd told him. After a moment, his eyes sharpened thoughtfully. "Roe was already dead when you arrived? Do we know how he died?"
Castin hesitated slightly, glancing briefly at Matias before answering. "Naomi killed him. He was stabbed, twice, with his own dagger. From everything we gathered, Roe severely underestimated her. She must have escaped shortly after."
The Rat King's expression shifted subtly, a flicker of surprise and perhaps pride passing across his features. "I see," he murmured softly. "Then it seems Naomi is even more capable than we'd realized."
"She had to be," Matias added quietly. "With what Roe did to her, she didn't have much choice."
The Rat King exhaled slowly, nodding in agreement. "Indeed. And now the path forward is ours to decide. Let's hope we're ready for what comes next." His eyes fell on the vial on the table "And this? Is this what has been trafficked in our city?"
"Yes my King, the sedative Roe used on Naomi," Matias replied quietly. "We had hoped some good could come of it, we figured it was better off researched than destroyed."
The Rat King regarded the vial thoughtfully, hope flickering briefly in his gaze. "My scientists will begin work immediately."
Garret stepped forward, placing his paws on the table. "There's more, sir. Roe's notes implicate Nikodemus, he's planning something big, something outside Rat City."
The Rat King's eyes narrowed, a troubled darkness settling in his expression. "Then our fight is far from over."
Castin nodded quietly, knowing the truth of those words deep within him. They had won this battle, but the war was just beginning.
Matias shifted quietly beside him, clearly anxious to see Talia. Castin laid a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder once more, nodding toward the infirmary. "Go. She needs you."
Matias gave a quiet, grateful nod, slipping silently from the room.
Castin watched him leave, exhaustion pressing on him heavier than before. Yet even now, beneath the weight of grief and loss, the tiniest flicker of hope remained, a familiar quiet voice whispering of healing and of better days to come. "You're doing great honey." Castin closed his eyes basking in the fabricated memory of Lillian's voice. If he was honest with himself sometimes he swore he forgot the specifics of how she sounded, the details eroded with time.
The Rat King's voice broke through his daydream. "Rest, Castin. You've all earned it."
Castin nodded, the simple promise of sleep suddenly more appealing than ever before. But as he turned away, he found his eyes drifting back to Roe's diary, to the name scrawled urgently within its pages.
Nikodemus.
A name that held answers to questions he barely understood yet knew he would have to face soon.
The war was just beginning but at least, tonight, they'd won their first real victory.
The halls of the palace felt strangely muted as Matias made his way toward the infirmary, each footstep heavier than the last. His pulse quickened, an anxious flutter beating in time with the quiet murmurs of passing servants. He hardly noticed their stares or the gentle nods of respect; all his thoughts centered on a single figure lying somewhere within the infirmary's quiet refuge.
He paused briefly at the doorway, bracing one paw against the carved wooden frame. The soft glow of lantern light spilled into the corridor, pooling at his feet. Matias drew a steadying breath, heart tightening uncomfortably in his chest.
Inside, the infirmary was calm, quiet voices mingling gently with the scent of herbs and antiseptics. At the far end of the room, curtains partially concealed one of the beds. Matias recognized the medic beside it as the woman tending to Talia earlier. She caught sight of him, offering a reassuring smile.
"She's been asking for you," the medic said softly, stepping aside and holding the curtain open.
Matias nodded gratefully, his mouth suddenly dry, throat tight. Carefully, he moved past the curtain into the dimly lit space beyond.
Talia lay quietly on the bed, eyes closed, her chest rising and falling slowly. Her leg was carefully bandaged, the wound beneath hidden but clearly severe. The sight of her there, so still, so vulnerable, tightened something painfully inside him. He swallowed hard, emotion rising sharply as he took a hesitant step forward.
"Talia," he whispered softly, voice shaking with tenderness he hadn't fully realized he possessed.
Her eyes fluttered open at his voice, confusion quickly replaced by warmth and relief. A weak but genuine smile touched her lips, lighting her weary features in a way that made Matias's breath catch painfully.
"Matias," she breathed quietly, reaching weakly toward him. He immediately stepped forward, grasping her paw gently between both of his own.
"How do you feel?" Matias murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "They treating you okay?"
She chuckled softly, her voice still rough from exhaustion. "They keep trying to put me to sleep, but you know I never did listen very well."
Matias smiled faintly, thumb brushing gently over the soft fur on her paw. He hesitated briefly, eyes drifting down toward the bandage covering her thigh. Talia saw the concern in his expression, squeezing his paw gently.
"It looks worse than it is," she reassured softly, attempting another smile. "Just hurts like hell, but the medic says I'll be up again before you know it."
He nodded quietly, trying to smile back. The silence stretched gently between them, fragile yet comforting. Matias cleared his throat quietly, gaze lifting again to meet her eyes.
"Talia, I was—" he began softly, but she gently interrupted, her eyes serious yet gentle.
"Don't," she whispered softly. "Whatever apology you think you owe me, it can wait."
He hesitated, swallowing hard. "No, it can't." He leaned closer, his voice low and raw with sincerity. "When I saw you hurt, Talia, I was terrified. I realized just how much I'd wasted, every second I let slip by without telling you."
Talia squeezed his paw firmly, her voice trembling softly. "Matias—"
"I love you," he said suddenly, clearly, the words falling from his lips without hesitation. They hung gently in the air between them, vulnerable yet powerful.
Talia blinked, eyes wide with surprise, her breath caught softly as tears blurred her vision. She reached up slowly, her free paw cupping his face gently, fingers brushing tenderly across his fur.
"You always were stubborn," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You couldn't have waited until I wasn't stuck in bed, half sedated?"
He laughed quietly, the tension in his chest finally easing. "No, apparently not."
She smiled softly, tears slipping freely now, her paw gently guiding him closer until his forehead rested gently against hers. The warmth of their quiet connection filled something deep within Matias, a hollow ache he'd carried too long.
"I love you too Matias, stick around this time please." Talia whispered fiercely, eyes searching his. "I mean it, Matias. I'm not losing you twice."
Matias closed his eyes briefly, absorbing her words, the soft heat of her touch grounding him in the moment. When he opened them again, his gaze was steady, certain, filled with unspoken promises.
"You won't," he whispered firmly. "Never again."
They stayed like that, silent and connected, until Talia's breathing gradually evened out again, exhaustion reclaiming her gently. Matias carefully ran his paw the fur near her face, watching as sleep carried her away. For a long moment, he simply stood there, taking in the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the soft peace in her expression. Until a fierce sense of determination blossomed in his chest, solidifying into resolve.
Turning swiftly, Matias moved toward the infirmary doors, his stride purposeful. His heart pounded not with fear but with a clarity he hadn't felt in years. Each step echoed his newfound certainty.
He had to speak with the Rat King.
The corridors blurred past him as he moved, the weight he'd carried now transformed into fiery determination. He reached the war room quickly, slowing only briefly at the entrance as the guards stepped aside, recognizing the urgency in his eyes. The doors parted to reveal the Rat King alone, studying a large map spread out before him, features illuminated by lantern glow.
"Your Majesty," Matias began firmly, voice edged with barely-contained emotion. "I need a word."
The Rat King glanced up, his expression patient but curious. He nodded silently, waiting.
"Talia nearly died tonight," Matias started, voice shaking slightly, anger and fear mingling openly in his tone. "She nearly died because she was placed in harm's way, running reconnaissance, alone in enemy territory."
The Rat King watched silently, expression unreadable.
"Under no circumstances should Talia be out there again," Matias continued passionately. "Not in gangs, not alone. Not running blind in the shadows. I can't lose her again. She belongs at my side."
The Rat King said nothing, merely studying Matias with quiet intensity as Matias took a shaky breath, realizing the depth of emotion he'd allowed to spill forth. But he didn't regret a word. He stood straight, unwavering beneath the King's scrutiny.
For a moment, silence lingered heavily between them. Finally, the Rat King stood, gently gesturing toward the far end of the room. "Matias, follow me."
Matias hesitated slightly, confusion shadowing his face as the Rat King moved toward a polished wooden table near a side alcove. The king sat down comfortably, reaching for two finely crafted glasses and an ornate bottle of amber liquid, carefully pouring a measure into each glass.
Matias remained rigid, uncertain. "Your Majesty?"
"Matias, sit down," the Rat King instructed softly, sliding one glass toward him.
Slowly, Matias took a seat, posture stiff, nerves tingling with uncertainty. The Rat King sipped his drink thoughtfully, eyes focused carefully on the rat across from him.
"Let me ask you something," he began slowly, setting his glass down. "Do you think me a fool, Matias?"
Matias stiffened sharply, ears flattening briefly in concern. "No, my king," he answered immediately. "Absolutely not."
The Rat King's expression softened considerably, his voice gentle. "Matias, I'm here as your friend Call me by my name." He reached across the table, placing a comforting paw gently atop Matias's trembling one. "No need to be so formal."
Matias froze, eyes widening in genuine surprise. It had been so long since he'd uttered the Rat King's true name, the intimacy of the gesture unsettling yet profoundly reassuring.
"I… Merrik," Matias murmured quietly, testing the name on his tongue for the first time in years, the tension in his shoulders easing slowly. "No, I don't think you're a fool."
Merrik smiled faintly, eyes filled with quiet warmth. "Good." He leaned back slightly, taking another slow sip of his drink before continuing, his gaze distant and thoughtful. "Do you know why I had both you and Talia working the same case? Why I specifically suggested you visit The Rusted Fang the night you returned from tailing Naomi?"
Matias's brow furrowed, confusion evident in his gaze. "No," he admitted quietly. "I—I thought it was coincidence. Just fortunate timing."
Merrik chuckled softly, shaking his head gently. "Matias, you haven't been yourself since you and Talia separated. Night after night, watching you follow Naomi… seeing you slip further into shadows, I knew I had to act. I couldn't afford to lose you, my friend."
The realization struck Matias like lightning, fur rising along his neck, a wave of stunned comprehension washing over him. He stared openly at Merrik, speechless.
Merrik smiled softly, nodding. "Yes, Matias. Of course Talia can join you. In truth, that was always my plan."
A quiet but comfortable silence settled between them, a warmth filling the space where tension had hung moments before. Merrik stood first, gently stretching as he rose from the table. Matias followed, feeling lighter than he had in years. As Merrik turned to walk back toward the war room's central map, Matias hesitated for just a moment, his gaze catching on the half-full glass he'd left behind.
On impulse, Matias quickly reached down, seized the glass, and drained the amber liquid in a single swift gulp. Merrik paused mid-step, eyebrows raised in mild astonishment.
"You know, Greymire," Merrik remarked dryly, though a gentle humor danced in his eyes, "that was not cheap."
Matias surprised him further by suddenly stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Merrik in a heartfelt embrace. Merrik stiffened briefly in surprise, then relaxed, patting Matias affectionately on the back.
"I know," Matias replied warmly. Then, with playful irreverence, he added, "Redmantle."
Merrik chuckled, returning the embrace firmly, his own voice amused as he continued, "You can expect that to come out of your pay."
They stepped apart, eyes meeting briefly before they both broke into laughter, the sound filling the chamber with a rare and welcome joy. For that brief moment, they weren't a king and his captain, they were simply Merrik and Matias, two friends rediscovering a bond they'd feared lost.