Chapter 10: Wings of the First Dawn
The Gilded Dominion never noticed the moment it was breached.
Five agents, Dark Elven shadows in flesh slipped past wards, patrols, and mercenary sentries without the Dominion ever realizing it had been breached.
They did not wear armor or carry visible weapons. Their blades were thought and silence, their passage masked by generations of perfected techniques in Dark and Psychic Magic.
These were not common spies. They were Synod trained specialists, each a master of mind walking, memory extraction, and psionic veiling. Their kind had toppled nobles, stolen bloodlines, and erased threats before the Circle of Arbiters ever convened to notice.
They moved like ghosts.
Not a single trace of their presence was left behind as they drifted from shadow to shadow across the upper tiers of the Dominion’s political and mercenary echelons.
They spoke to no one.
Instead, they read.
They walked past guards and brushed their minds with veiled whispers. They stood beside mercenaries and watched flickers of remembered deaths, contracts paid in silence, coins handed to a man with cold eyes and colder words.
Three days.
That was all it took.