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“You knew the territory as Alokya, but the city that belonged to the Asura family is no more. After the end of the Reapers’ War, the Eternal Sovereign was gracious enough to let those loyal to the Asura’s rebuild elsewhere. The remaining Alokyian people upheld our loyalty to your father and to your worship while you slumbered.”

Alokya was gone? The thought was quickly overtaken by another word spoken by the feeble man.

“He convinced an entire city I am worthy of worship? Why?”

“Y-Yes. To honor your immortality after the Wraith corrupted your body with its presence.”

“That’s what he’s been telling everyone? I never—”

Croll swallowed a lump in his frail throat, looking up at him with a questioning gaze.

Draven scowled. He needed to keep control of his temper. Spouting off his grievances to a stranger who worked for Valen wasn’t going to solve anything. He glanced toward the doorway. “The lights. That was you?”

“It was, sir. These men attacked me and shut off all the power. When I awoke, I found you gone.”

“Are you alone?”

“There is only me, sir.”

Draven turned his attention back to him, and Croll folded deeper into his bow. The dramatic gestures of respect were more than even he, Valen’s righteous first child, was accustomed to. Kyer may not have been so forthcoming with what he knew, but this man may be if he leaned into the role.

“Then I have you to blame for that faction of heathens desecrating my place of sanctuary.” Bile rose up his throat. He sounded like Valen.

Croll jerked up straight, skin paling. “No, my Lord!”

“You didn’t know them?”

“No. I only let them in because their leader bore the mark of the Swarm.”

Failen’s military. All members were given a brand on the back of their right hand. That was something that hadn’t changed. “But this man carried a blue soul.”

“Souls are no longer so relegated to the section of the continent their Imordials reside. It is not uncommon to see an Allay’s shade in the ranks. In fact, Dawn souls are often preferred over those touched by the dark gods’ energy.”

“Were you expecting a visit from them?”

“No. But occasionally they come to make sure I am doing my duties diligently…” Croll brought a finger to his chin thoughtfully but stayed quiet.

Draven furrowed his brows. “If you know something, tell me.”

“Oh, y-yes sir. It’s possible these people were from Zaitrerin. Their alliance with Rimore has grown stronger over the years, and the Gnaw has been retaliating against our recent expansions. Perhaps breaking into your Coffer and releasing you is an extension of those actions, though I am at a loss for a motive…”

Interesting. Kyer being part of an opposing faction made sense, but like Croll, Draven hadn’t a clue what they gained from releasing him. Even if he was weak, how was this man so sure he wouldn’t run back to Valen with his tail between his legs when he regained his strength? He had no reason to trust him.

But he knew details about his betrayal. That Draven never took the Wraith. How was that possible when he himself couldn’t remember the entirety of that night? When Valen worked so hard to cover it up?

He noticed the sudden silence in the room. Croll’s speculation trailed off, and he was now looking at Draven like he was someone else. Like he was no longer afraid of how he may punish him, and more like he had no idea where his loyalties lay.

“I too am at a loss,” Draven said, dropping the harsh inflection in his voice to gauge exactly where Croll’s thoughts may be. “Did you inform my father of what happened?”

“I’m ashamed to say I did not, my Lord. I was afraid I’d be punished for my failures…” He rubbed the back of his head, averting his gaze. “I feel you should know I no longer serve the Eternal Sovereign directly. Not since his daughter, Brialis, inherited the throne.”

Draven took a step back in disbelief. He didn’t want to think about everything that could’ve happened in the last three centuries, but hearing it now was enough to break that blockade. “I have more siblings?”

“Only Brialis,” Croll said. “She was born almost one hundred and fifty years ago. She took up the position as Empress about thirty years ago when His Highness fell ill.”

Even with the Serpent’s energy aiding him, Draven’s body grew heavier with the revelations. He placed a steadying hand on the closest console. That would make Valen damn near four hundred years old now. “He’s still alive?”

Croll’s mouth dropped open as if Draven said something blasphemous. Remembering who he was speaking to, he fixed his face. “The Empress has assured he is on his way to recovery.”