Violet’s tent was submerged in semi-darkness. A single candle, the one standing on the camp table, was guttering out, casting long, trembling shadows across the canvas walls. Somewhere beyond the camp, night birds cried out, and the wind rustled through the gorge, stirring thoughts of what lay ahead.
Violet sat motionless, staring at the dark ruby lying before her. She was waiting. She knew he would contact her. He couldn’t not contact her. Not after what she had seen.
The crystal flared to life exactly at midnight.
A crimson light flooded the tent, and in the center of the table, a trembling image took shape. Emperor Cassius V sat upon his throne, his face calm, yet in his eyes burned the very fire Violet knew all too well — the fire of obsession.
“Report,” his voice sounded quiet, yet it carried the hardness of steel.
Violet straightened. Her own face remained impassive, but inside everything was boiling.
“I saw her,” she said. “I spoke with her.”
“And?”
“She… isn’t what I thought she would be.”
Cassius tilted his head. The gesture was barely noticeable, but Violet caught it. She always caught his gestures.
“She’s calm,” Violet continued. “She isn’t playing. She isn’t putting on a show. She removed her mask in front of me.”
Something flickered in the Emperor’s crimson eyes — something Violet couldn’t quite decipher. Interest? Jealousy?
“And?” he repeated.
“She’s… ordinary,” Violet’s voice trembled, and she hated herself for it. “Tired. Distant. She said she only wanted to protect the people she cares about. That she never wanted any of this.”
Cassius remained silent. His face was unreadable.
“She called me ‘the best ones’,” Violet said with a bitter smirk. “Like a tool. Like an object that can simply be sent. She doesn’t even know who I am. To her, I’m just another envoy of the Empire.”
“She knows more than she should,” Cassius said quietly. “Kaelan reported — she called him by name. By his title. Before he even introduced himself. She knows things she has no right to know.”
Violet froze.
“Do you think she can read minds?”
“I think,” Cassius rose from his throne, and his figure in the crimson light seemed enormous, “that she is not human. And not a mage. She is something else. And until we understand exactly what, every step we take is a step into darkness.”
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He stepped closer to the crystal, and his face loomed larger.
“You spoke with her. What did you feel?”
Violet clenched her fists. She wanted to lie. To say she had felt superiority, confidence, coldness. But she couldn’t. Not to him.
“She looked at me,” Violet breathed out. “Calmly. Without challenge. Without fear. Without… anything I expected. And in her eyes there was nothing. No superiority, no contempt. Only weariness.”
Cassius stayed silent.
“She isn’t afraid of me,” Violet’s voice trembled. “She doesn’t hate me. She doesn’t see me as a rival. To her… I’m no one. Just another person who showed up with maps.”
She lifted her gaze, and bitter resentment shimmered in her violet eyes.
“I prepared for war. And she didn’t even notice.”
Cassius looked at her, and there was no mockery in his eyes — only understanding.
“You’re jealous,” he said.
“Yes,” she didn’t deny it. “I am jealous. Of her calm. Of her strength. Of the fact that she can simply be herself without having to prove her greatness to anyone. And of the way you look at her figure.”
“I look at her figure because she is a threat,” Cassius’s voice grew harsher. “Because I need to understand exactly who I’m dealing with. Because if I make a mistake — the Empire will fall.”
“And that’s why you called her ‘beautiful’?” Violet smirked. “She appeals to you, doesn’t she? Admit it.”
Cassius fell silent.
“I called her beautiful,” he said at last, “because it is the truth. But you know, Violet? When I look at you right now — at you, who came to this filthy camp, who met her face to face and didn’t break, who sits here and tells me the truth even though you could have lied… I see something far more valuable.”
He straightened.
“She is a riddle. You are reality. She is a threat. You are a pillar. And if I ever have to choose between a riddle and a pillar…”
“What?” Violet breathed.
Cassius smiled. For the first time in a long while. Not coldly, not calculatingly — but the way people smile when they speak the truth.
“I choose the one who came here despite her fear. Not of her. Of the unknown.”
Violet stared at him, her heart hammering somewhere in her throat.
“Is that why you sent me here?” she whispered. “Not because of the horde?”
“I sent you so you would see her,” Cassius said. “And understand. She is not a goddess. She is not a legend. She is a mirror. In which everyone sees what they want to see. Randel sees salvation in her. You see a rival. And I…”
He paused.
“And you?” Violet asked.
“I see in her what I wish I could see in myself,” he said. “Calm. Acceptance. The ability to look at a world that is falling apart and not break.”
He stepped back from the crystal, and his face became unreadable once more.
“But that does not mean I am ready to bow to her. I am the Emperor. And my duty is to protect the Empire. Even from gods. Even from legends. Even from myself.”
He looked at Violet, and in his eyes burned the very fire she both loved and feared so deeply.
“Your task is not to destroy her. Not to defeat her. Your task is to learn. To understand. And to bring me answers. And when the horde is broken, when the danger has passed… then we will decide what to do with the Keeper.”
“And what if she turns out to be real?” Violet asked quietly. “What if she really is an ancient being who remembers Axsia? What if she is stronger than all of us?”
Cassius looked at her, and there was no fear in his eyes.
“Then we will find a way to live with it,” he said. “Or we will die trying. But right now, Violet, right now we have the horde. And we have her. Use her. Learn from her. And come back. Alive.”
The crystal went dark.
Violet remained sitting in the darkness, feeling tears slide down her cheeks. She didn’t know whether she was crying from relief. Or because, for the first time in seven years, she had heard from Cassius exactly what she had always wanted to hear.
Not “you are the best.” Not “the Empire needs you.” But simply — “come back alive.”
Somewhere in the camp, night birds cried out. The wind rustled through the gorge. And Violet sat in the darkness and allowed herself to cry. For the first time in a very long time.