Bonds of the Fallen
Chapter 8

“You’re looking remarkably well, my friend,” Einar remarked as he collapsed into a plush chair across from Val’s desk. “We burned the body of the Draugr you dispatched last night.”

Val quirked an eyebrow as he rose and moved to the chair across from his friend. “You seem to forget that aging is not within my realm of possibilities. And thank you for dealing with the Draugr’s second death.”

A chuckle escaped from Einar as he relaxed into the chair. “Your recent presence in the lower levels of the embassy has been noted, particularly in the company of that delightful human I saw you laughing with in the courtyard last night.”

A sigh left Val’s lips. “Einar, I need you to comb through the registrations. If a boy named Rorick is listed anywhere, bring those records directly to me.”

Einar’s brow lifted. “You’ve never taken a personal interest in the registrations before.”

Val shot his friend a wry smile. “As you noted, I am indeed in good spirits. Now, did you come here to discuss my social activities?”

Einar’s demeanor shifted as he leaned forward, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “There’s been a surge in activity from the followers of the New God. They’ve been increasingly visible in the city, and I’m worried that their presence might spark violence.”

A calculating glint entered Val’s eyes. “We will move the registrations to the festival site now that it is ready. I want you to increase the Harii’s presence and maintain a unit at the embassy.”

Einar nodded, the lines of his face hardening. “We’ve also shut down the Dark Market, offering legitimate vendor stalls at the festival. They can continue their trade there after we depart. And your new quarters are ready. Everything is coming together.”

Val stood, stretching out his hand to Einar. “Thank you, my friend.” As Einar took his hand, Val pulled him to his feet, clapping him on the back. “There’s one more thing we need to address—the matter of my successor. This year will be my last festival.” He smiled.

Einar’s eyes widened. “Your last? What are you scheming?”

Val did not answer, instead turning to look out the window once more.

“There’s one more thing.” Einar continued, “The Harii are becoming restless with their caretaker roles. They want a more active part in Vampir affairs.”

Val’s brow furrowed in consternation. “What exactly are they proposing?”

“They’re demanding a voice in the council, a say in the decisions that impact our people.”

Val leaned back, his mind working over this new piece of information. “While I understand their restlessness, we must always put the needs of our people first. I have a short list of Harii that may be suitable for a spot on the council.”

Einar nodded, his expression thoughtful. “A sensible approach. We must tread carefully, Val. The dynamics within the council are delicate, and introducing the Harii could shift the balance in unforeseen ways.”

“The council will need to adapt, as we all do. The Harii have been defenders of our realm, and their desire to contribute more actively is admirable and necessary. We must evolve, or we risk stagnation.”

Einar’s gaze lingered on Val, the unspoken words hanging between them like threads waiting to weave into the fabric of their reality. “Change is the only constant, my friend. We will discuss your selections and your successor for the festival.”

A firm nod from Val sealed their conversation. The distant hum of life below served as a reminder of the world that pulsed beyond their walls—a world teeming with stories, with lives intersecting and parting like threads in the grand design of the Norns. And somewhere within that endless intertwining, the future of the realms lay waiting, ready to be shaped by the hands of those bold enough to guide it.