Ashes of the Elite

I stare at Cain, the blood draining from my face. "Is... is this normal?" I ask, voice tight with panic. "The King himself getting involved in something like this?"

Cain just shrugs, twirling the sealed letter midair with a flick of his fingers. "No. No, it's not."

My stomach sinks.

He continues, voice calm, almost bored. "Typically, when an Elite steps out of line, kills civilians, loses control, or breaks a law etc. they're hunted down by other Elites we have special groups formed exactly for that. Rogue Elites can't be held by normal humans obviously. Even without using their mark, they're just... too strong, too fast."

That much I already knew. It's why so many soldiers and normal townsfolk flinch when we walk past them.

"But," Cain adds, glancing at me, "since I was there to secure you, a hunt isn't necessary."

I nod slowly, my mind racing. "Right, that makes sense. But still why would the King want to see me for this?"

Cain cracks his neck with a pop and a groan, like this whole thing is giving him a migraine too. "Because you're a three mark bearer," he says plainly. "And that makes you interesting. Dangerous. A tool. A threat. Take your pick." He stretches his legs out. "The politics in Lusa have probably made it impossible for him to summon you outright at least not until you did something loud. Which, congratulations, you have." "I'm sure you are at least somewhat aware that not everyone is exactly pleased by what your existence represents."

I grimace, rubbing my temples. "Yeah... I had a chat with that old man Lark."

Cain raises an eyebrow at my tone but lets it slide shaking his head.

"Anyway," he continues, "Count Ashland probably dumped all his remaining Merits into pushing your rampage through the proper channels right to the Imperial Council. I'm sure he's hoping the King will kill you outright."